Chapter 9

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Chapter 9: The Cultivators of the Hidden Valley

Fengyun Wuji tread closely at the heels of Zhao Wuji, his mien unperturbed as he ventured into the murky depths of the cavern. The cave, contrary to expectations, was shallow yet its walls were as smooth as glass, and the ground beneath was pristine, a stark contrast to the squalor he’d envisioned. In truth, the lair was remarkably spotless.

With each measured step, the visage of the cave’s master materialized before Fengyun Wuji. A mane of long hair was fastened atop his head with an elongated pin, his visage etched with the tales of eons past. His form, wrapped in an ample grey robe that had faded to the hue of ash, was slender, almost frail, with even his crossed legs obscured beneath the garment’s pallid folds.

Suspended above the master’s crown, at the zenith of the cavern, was an orb of jade, plump as a goose egg, radiating a gentle luminescence. Fengyun Wuji recognized this artifact from his world before ascension—a bead that repelled dust and dirt.

The interior was devoid of any other object save for a solitary, protruding stone upon which the master sat, a testament to the ascetic lifestyle of a cultivator. Simplicity reigned supreme, with an ethos of minimalism that spared no extravagance.

“Make yourself comfortable,” the master intoned, his hand emerging momentarily from the voluminous sleeves to gesture towards an open patch of ground beside him. The appendage swiftly receded into the garment’s depths, yet in that fleeting glimpse, Fengyun Wuji noted a stark incongruity—the hand was smooth and translucent, akin to crystal chiseled, with an opalescent gleam that rivaled the delicacy of a maiden’s fingers.

At the master’s behest, Zhao Wuji flicked his robe and seated himself cross-legged beside the master, casting a glance at Fengyun Wuji that spoke volumes—’follow suit.’

With a hesitant glance at the barren, unyielding earth, Fengyun Wuji, after a moment’s contemplation, emulated Zhao Wuji’s posture.

“I’ve heard you’re newly ascended?” The cave master’s eyes snapped open, his gaze as piercing as a supernova, momentarily turning the cavern as bright as day.

“Indeed, that is so.”

The master scrutinized Fengyun Wuji with an odd mixture of curiosity and appraisal. Though the scrutiny was benign, it was disconcerting. The master eventually shifted his gaze, releasing a protracted sigh, “How many years has it been? Time is a fickle concept within these confines. The news of ascension is a rare whisper these days… Yet, rarity is preferable to absence.”

“Diligence is key. I perceive a promising aptitude within you. The path of martial cultivation bears no resemblance to the shortcuts available in your former realm. In this harsh world, survival hinges on unwavering discipline… The term ‘harsh’ may be alien to you now, but time spent here will illuminate its meaning. This place is graced with a formation that amplifies spiritual energy, making your cultivation efforts more fruitful. Consider making a temporary home here.” With these words, the master, known as Demon-Slayer Hand, reseated his eyes in slumber, delving back into his meditative trance, plunging the cavern into a deeper shade of gloom.

“Gratitude to the elder!” Zhao Wuji, no stranger to this place, expressed his thanks, then turned to Fengyun Wuji, “Elder Demon-Slayer Hand is always thus, lost in his cultivation whenever the opportunity arises. That he deigned to open his eyes today is a rare honor… Truth be told, not only is Elder Demon-Slayer Hand this way, but so are many others. In time, you will come to understand that the mastery of the adept is built upon the bricks of many years.”

With these words, Zhao Wuji placed his hands upon his knees, closed his eyes, and began his cultivation, a faint mist seeping from his form to coil around him.

Throughout their interaction, Fengyun Wuji had only exchanged a single phrase, two words, with the Demon-Slayer Hand, who then ignored him. This left Fengyun Wuji feeling somewhat bewildered and uneasy. Observing Zhao Wuji’s meditative state, with naught else to do, Fengyun Wuji too, found himself seated in contemplation.

Indeed, as the master had stated, the spiritual energy here was extraordinarily abundant, richer even than that surrounding the Holy Palace. The elemental forces of the cosmos, tangible as liquid, flowed into his body through every pore, transmuting into streams of vibrant energy, a sensation of sheer exhilaration. Gradually, Fengyun Wuji too was drawn into the currents of cultivation, reaching depths of meditative absorption.

Time passed in a blur, and as Fengyun Wuji stirred from his trance, on the cusp of consciousness, a familiar voice echoed outside the cave, bellowing, “Zhao Wuji, you whelp, and that witless lad, show yourselves! Hmph, I know you’ve nowhere to run and must be holed up in this Hidden Valley. I warn you, surrender the Xuanming Formula’s first volume, or face relentless turmoil. No matter where you hide, I will hunt you down. Emerge, emerge! I am aware you two are concealed herein, don’t delude yourselves with thoughts of evasion… Curses, thinking you can elude me by simply hiding. If you refuse to emerge, I shall enter and search myself.”

At this, Fengyun Wuji jolted awake, recognizing the voice as none other than You Wuxie’s. Clearly, You Wuxie had an intimate understanding of Zhao Wuji and had pursued them with ease to this very location.

He turned, intending to rouse Zhao Wuji, only to find him already alert, his eyes open.

“Hush! You Wuxie is bluffing. This valley is riddled with caves, and no matter how formidable You Wuxie’s martial prowess, he would not dare to act recklessly here. Should he dare to cause a disturbance, there are those who will subdue him,” whispered Zhao Wuji, who had awakened at some point, perceiving Fengyun Wuji’s urge to confront the situation and staying his hand.

Indeed, a thunderous roar erupted from outside the cave, “Who dares to intrude upon my sanctuary!” It was evident that the master of the cave You Wuxie had barged into was roused from his slumber, his voice brimming with rage.

“Humph. Old codger, have you seen any newcomers to the valley? One of them dressed in a white scholar’s robe, no more than forty years of age, yet with the visage of a youthful lad? Tell me, and I shall take my leave. Otherwise, you’ll suffer the consequences!” You Wuxie was clearly not to be trifled with, his voice resonating throughout the Hidden Valley.

“Nonsense! I have been immersed in my cultivation, detached from the outside world,” the cave master retorted, incensed.

“You insinuate I’m a fool? While it’s true that during cultivation one might close off their senses, that’s only for those with great powers. You cultivators, when you practice, don’t you always leave a sliver of consciousness to sense the surroundings? How could you be unaware of the movements throughout the valley? You cursed old man, take my strike!”

“Dare you! This is…” The voice was abruptly cut off. After an infinitesimal pause, a deafening peal of thunder exploded within the valley, followed by a torrent of force that burst from outside the cave, crashing in like a tidal wave, striking Fengyun Wuji with immense impact.

Fengyun Wuji grunted, his entire body lifted by an overwhelming force, slamming into the wall, pinned as if nailed there, his internal organs wracked with pain, a streak of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

It was merely the wind from a clash of blows that had injured Fengyun Wuji’s viscera. Zhao Wuji, in comparison, fared much better, his face pale but otherwise unscathed. The cave master, seemingly oblivious to the commotion, remained unperturbed, not even a ripple in his grey, wrinkled garments from the tumultuous energy.

“Is this the disparity between us?” The profound sense of defeat compounded Fengyun Wuji’s injuries, causing him to cough up a mouthful of blood before slumping to the ground, spent.

…