On the table lay a roasted fish—caught from the nearby stream—along with some spirit fruits. The wine, brewed by the two of them in bamboo vessels, was mediocre; to a master brewer of spirit wine, it would have been a waste of resources. But the two had made it purely for pleasure.
After a few rounds, neither bothered to suppress their intoxication, and they grew quite merry. Inevitably, they spoke more freely.
Wang Yanfeng lifted his bamboo cup, eyes half-lidded, and said, "You and I—uncle and nephew—both value our lives, but when the time comes, we must fight."
In fact, the two had already scouted the Ningyuan Fruit site according to Lan Mu's description. It was an emerald pool they called the Jade Pond. Upon careful inspection, they had spied the second-order demon fish sleeping at the bottom. In addition to that guardian fish, smaller aquatic demons—its brood—swam about as its food supply.
That demon fish proved even stronger than Lan Mu had claimed, at the very peak of mid-rank. Yet demon beasts grow slowly, and this fish needed the right opportunity to advance to high-rank.
That opportunity was the Ningyuan Fruit. Wang Hao and Wang Yanfeng had planted the Ningyuan Tree in the center of the Jade Pond. About three meters tall—like a tomato plant—it already bore three ripe red Ningyuan Fruits, matured in under three years.
In that moment they realized the fish was surely waiting for the fruits to ripen, so it could devour them and ascend to high-rank second-order itself.
If that happened, they'd have even less chance to harvest a fruit. Ningyuan Trees only fruit every fifty years. If the fish ate them first, what would the two do? Wang Hao had his farm; Wang Yanfeng did not. No wonder he was anxious.
Wang Hao could not reveal his farm's secret. If Yanfeng lost motivation, Wang Hao would be unable to obtain the Ningyuan seeds—an unacceptable outcome.
"We still have time," Wang Hao reassured him. "It's not too late to wait a little longer before acting. And besides, we still have the Golden-Eyed Duck."
The Duck was their trump card, though it showed no signs of advancing yet. If it could rise before the fruits ripened, it could fly out for reinforcements, securing the tree for us—and perhaps even earning each of us a Foundation-Establishing Pill. Wang Hao could also grab the seeds. But it was best not to set expectations too high and risk further disappointment.
Sending the Duck off alone was far too risky. The Broken-Yuan Mountains teemed with demon beasts. If the Duck left the valley, it would be in danger—and attract attention. Then the two would lose their final ace. Keeping the Duck close was their only guarantee of escape in a few years.
After eating and drinking, Wang Yanfeng bid farewell and retired into seclusion. Wang Hao himself went down to the stream. Having just emerged from his own reclusion, he wanted to relax. With little else to do in the vale, he decided to fish in the stream for a diversion.
The vale ran generally north–south, receiving sunlight only briefly at midday. One day Wang Hao lay napping by the stream, rod at his side, when he heard a distant cry.
Startled awake, he looked around but saw no movement. "Eighth Uncle is in seclusion, and that voice wasn't his," he thought. "Could someone have come here?"
He raised his eyes and saw a dark shape moving along the valley's skyline. "Someone really is here," he murmured, weighing the risks. "If they discover me, who knows if it will be lucky or unlucky."
In such an isolated vale, encounters naturally bred conflict and pillaging. Moreover, from the newcomer's pace, it did not appear they had fallen here by accident. Likely they were a Foundation-Establishing cultivator.
His fears were confirmed. The figure spotted him and plunged straight toward him. As she drew nearer, Wang Hao discerned a woman in red, veiled in silk, fluttering downward.
"No, she doesn't move like a Foundation-Establisher," Wang Hao's eyes widened at her awkward descent. Even wounded, such a cultivator would not wobble so wildly.
Sure enough, when she neared, about thirty meters above him, her strength gave out and she plunged headlong.
"To rescue or not to rescue, that is the question!" The problem was, before he could decide, the woman took the initiative. He saw her slam her palms, unleashing spells.
"Damn, no hard feelings, no grudges—and she attacks first…" Wang Hao dodged, realizing she wasn't striking at him but casting spells to slow her fall.
But it did little good. In the blink of an eye, she crashed with a splash into the shallow stream.
Wang Hao winced at the sight. The water was under two meters deep; at that speed, she would have slammed the bottom.
As predicted, blood stained the water, and after a time, her body floated lifelessly.
He waited a moment more; she did not move. Finally he said, "Miss, I'm coming to save you. If you're conscious, please don't resist!" After a pause, he cast a hauling spell to drag her to shore.
The woman lay on the bank, her head tilted. Wang Hao moved closer and recognized—Li Derong.
He was so startled he was speechless. "What a coincidence!" Yet, considering both clans bordered Qingniu Market and often explored the Broken-Yuan Mountains, an encounter wasn't impossible—but to fall into the same valley… must it be fate? Gazing at Li Derong's pale but still beautiful face, Wang Hao couldn't help but reflect.
Having fought side by side before, he couldn't ignore her plight. He tried to rouse her—no response—so he carried her to his cabin, laid her on the bed, and used fire magic to dry her clothes.
Only then did he notice cuts on her arm and abdomen. Had she been conscious, he could have channeled qi to staunch the bleeding. In her state, without dressings, she might bleed out.
"As long as my intentions are pure, worldly formalities matter less," Wang Hao chided himself. He tore clean cloth into bandages, applied salve to her wounds, and gave her some healing pills. "Miss Li, that's all I can do! Rest well!" He slipped out of the cabin swiftly; if she awoke to find him there, things would get awkward.
Li Derong awoke two days later, at midday. Realizing she lay in an unfamiliar cabin, she was at once surprised and relieved. She was alive—but where was she, and who had saved her? She vaguely recalled seeing someone before she fell, but hadn't paid attention in her panic.
Examining her clothes for signs of violence, she found none—and that reassured her. Whoever had saved her must be honorable. She prepared to express her gratitude.
But as she sat up and removed a bandage, she frowned lightly—then noticed the dressings. She vaguely remembered the rescuer was a man, and that he had handled her wounds…
Having exceptional talent and always dedicated, Li Derong was the Li clan's number one Qi-Refiner at twenty, and had reached the ninth level by twenty-seven. Normally, not only younger peers but even her own generation respected her deeply; few dared approach her. Now, a man had touched her…