Chapter Eight: The Welcome Banquet, a Masterpiece Astonishes the World

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As the sun dipped toward the western horizon, its fading light gently bathed the sect’s courtyard. Upon the stone table lay an array of exquisite spiritual delicacies, their enticing sheen and subtle aura captivating the senses. Lin Feng stood quietly nearby, a gentle smile gracing his face as he awaited the return of his senior disciples.

Soon, several figures hurried from afar, led by Senior Sister Li Xiaoxia. Her graceful form and delicate features were complemented by a light blue dress fluttering in the breeze. Though they had endured numerous hardships, excitement and joy shone brightly in her eyes. Behind her followed eight fellow disciples, their laughter and youthful energy filling the air.

“Junior Brother Lin, what delicious treats have you prepared?” boomed Zhao Meng, his burly frame drawing attention. At eighteen years old, he was at the seventh level of the Qi Refining Stage, endowed with four spiritual roots, his straightforward nature matched by his hearty laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, the aroma reached me from afar—I’m starving,” chimed in the lively Zhou Linger, bouncing on her toes. She was sixteen, the same age as Lin Feng, at the sixth level of Qi Refining with four spiritual roots. Her twin ponytails and sparkling eyes made her look like a lively little deer.

Gathered around the stone table, Lin Feng smiled warmly. “Senior brothers and sisters, you ventured deep into the vast mountain range, braving perilous trials. I specially prepared this spread of spiritual cuisine to welcome you back and help you wash away the dust of travel.”

Li Xiaoxia nodded with a smile. “Lin Feng, you’re thoughtful indeed. This journey was truly arduous.”

After several rounds of wine, spirits rose high, and the group began sharing thrilling tales from the mountains.

“The beast tide that attacked was terrifying—packs of demonic beasts surged like a tidal wave. We nearly couldn’t hold them off,” said the composed Song Yichen. At twenty, he stood at the fifth level of Qi Refining, with four spiritual roots, his sharp brows and bright eyes revealing lingering fear.

“Luckily, two elders from the sect arrived just in time. They were formidable, dispatching true spirit-level beasts with ease, enabling our escape,” added Su Yao, her gentle voice calming. Nineteen years old and at the fourth level of Qi Refining with four spiritual roots, she sat closely beside Song Yichen.

“But our harvest was abundant too. We gathered many spirit herbs and even the core pearls of true Qi-level beasts,” proudly said fifteen-year-old Zhang Yuxuan, shaking the storage pouch in his hand. He was at the fourth level of Qi Refining with four spiritual roots.

Li Xiaoxia also laughed and produced a box. “I collected key auxiliary materials for forging Foundation Establishment pills—spirit-grade blue spirit herbs and blue spirit fruits. This mission was truly a success.”

The group expressed admiration and congratulations, eyes shining with envy.

Several cups of exquisite wine later, Lin Feng suddenly recalled the famous Maotai liquor from Guizhou in the Dragon Kingdom of Earth, and a wave of homesickness welled up within him. He walked to a nearby desk, dipped a brush into ink, and composed a poem titled “Aspiring to the Clouds.”

No one supports me in my lofty quest,
Yet I tread the snow to the mountain’s crest.
If fate denies such fortune’s grace,
Alone I’ll ascend Kunlun’s space.

The mortal world gifts me a three-foot sword,
Long gazing at the lean horse, a lifetime endured.
The crowd perceives but fleeting dawn,
Alone I see all beings’ pause and yawn.

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The sea ends where heaven forms the shore,
Upon the peak I stand as the ultimate core.
If once again the eastern hills rise,
The roc will soar ninety thousand miles in the skies.

Entering the mortal dream feels real,
Awakening clears the heart’s ordeal.
Once enlightenment reveals the true self,
Past chains dissolve like smoke on the shelf.

The heavenly gate opens with cypress charm,
Light laughter asks the immortal’s calm.

The brush danced like dragons and snakes,
The calligraphy free and spirited,
Each character seemingly infused with his insights and yearnings toward this cultivation world. Ambitions and grandeur flowed through the lines like a mighty river rushing onward.

All eyes were drawn instantly, the previously noisy courtyard falling silent. Li Xiaoxia gazed at the poem, feeling an inexplicable surge of power, as though the poem’s imagery resonated deeply within her.

She murmured repeatedly, “Entering the mortal dream feels real, awakening clears the heart’s ordeal. Once enlightenment reveals the true self, past chains dissolve like smoke on the shelf.”

Having long been stuck at the ninth level of Qi Refining, she suddenly felt her spiritual energy surge wildly, racing toward the perfect completion of the tenth level.

Other senior disciples also became immersed in the poem’s infinite realm, their spiritual energies fluctuating strongly, many showing signs of breakthrough.

Sensing the strange spiritual shifts, Lin Feng quickly cautioned, “Senior sister, please lead everyone back to their rooms. The spiritual fluctuations here are too intense.”

Only then did Li Xiaoxia snap back to reality, urging everyone to return to their chambers.

The courtyard was left with only Lin Feng. He looked at the “Aspiring to the Clouds” poem with a helpless shake of his head, a wry smile on his lips. “I never imagined a sudden whim would stir up such a commotion—my apologies.”

Unknown to him, while fully engrossed in writing, he had inadvertently imprinted a trace of the Eternal Spring Technique’s essence onto the paper. Combined with this grand poem from an ancient Earth predecessor, the effect was astonishing.

This sudden surge of spiritual energy attracted the attention of Jiang Yan, the front desk manager of the Easy Treasure Inn. Realizing the disturbance came from Lin Feng’s private room, she quickly dismissed nearby staff and approached.

Since the other senior disciples had all gone into seclusion, only Lin Feng remained, with the freshly penned “Aspiring to the Clouds” in front of him.

Seeing Jiang Yan, Lin Feng offered an embarrassed smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“No problem,” Jiang Yan replied slowly, “I’ve sent the other staff away. The noise was a bit much.”

Her tone carried a subtle warning, reminding Lin Feng to be careful in this mixed company, where trouble could easily find its way.

Lin Feng nodded gratefully, about to put away the calligraphy when Jiang Yan caught sight of the poem. Amazed by the beautiful script and profound verses, she asked incredulously, “Did you write this?”

He nodded affirmatively.

Jiang Yan’s eyebrows knit together shyly as she asked, “May I make a copy? I don’t want to take it, just trace it.”

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Lin Feng felt a favorable impression toward Jiang Yan. Thanks to her handling, no one else had noticed the earlier commotion. He agreed to her request.

“Sure, we’ll give it to you when we check out.” Jiang Yan’s cheeks flushed, and she whispered, “Thank you.”

Lin Feng carefully packed away the calligraphy and returned to his room, leaving Jiang Yan deep in thought.

Back in his chamber, Lin Feng sat on the bed, reflecting on the earlier scene with some concern. He understood the complexities of the cultivation world. His inadvertent act had stirred such a powerful spiritual fluctuation; if discovered by those with ill intent, it could spell trouble.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yan lingered outside the room, unable to calm her mind. Lin Feng’s “Aspiring to the Clouds” and his unique aura deeply captivated her.

Having served as manager of the Easy Treasure Inn for years, she was only in her early twenties. She had encountered countless cultivators but rarely one like Lin Feng.

After a while, she quietly left, deciding to watch Lin Feng and his companions closely—partly to prevent further disturbances, partly to satisfy her own curiosity about this mysterious youth.

Meanwhile, Li Xiaoxia returned to her room and quickly seated herself cross-legged, beginning to circulate her cultivation technique to regulate the chaotic spiritual energy within.

At first, the energy stormed like a wild horse through her meridians, causing unbearable pain. But with resolute willpower, she steadied her mind, grasping the crucial breakthrough moment inspired by the “Aspiring to the Clouds” poem, integrating its insight into her energy flow.

Gradually, the spiritual energy softened, flowing along prescribed meridian pathways, growing stronger with each cycle. Sweat beaded on Li Xiaoxia’s brow, her clothes soaked through, teeth clenched tightly. Yet her gaze became more resolute, her breath calmer.

Suddenly, a faint rumble echoed within her body, as if a barrier shattered. A surge of more potent spiritual energy flooded her frame. She had successfully broken through to the late Qi Refining Stage’s grand completion!

Overflowing magical power coursed through her, her dantian’s true Qi liquefied completely. After traversing several great cycles, she slowly opened her eyes, shining with joy and excitement. Yet amidst this triumph, Lin Feng’s image involuntarily surfaced in her mind.

Recalling his usual gentle demeanor, attentiveness, and the subtle unique aura he exuded, Li Xiaoxia felt an unfamiliar sensation blossoming—a burgeoning affection for this junior brother. The feeling unsettled yet sweetened her heart.

In another shadowed corner of the inn, the Black Flood Dragon lurked silently. A rogue cultivator who had also reached the grand completion of Qi Refining but practiced an exceedingly strange technique, rendering his methods mysterious and unpredictable.

His eyes glowed with a spectral green light, like a starving wolf in the night, fixated on Lin Feng’s room, greed intensifying within.

Unaware of this, Lin Feng returned to his chamber and began focused practice of the “Primordial Sword Art.” Immersed in the sword forms, he forgot the outside world’s distractions.

Over time, he discerned the sword technique’s profound intricacies. By night’s end, he had advanced the art to the mid-sword Qi stage and mastered a powerful new move—the “Sword That Pierces the Milky Way.”

This devastating technique could directly slay a Foundation Establishment beginner but consumed an enormous amount of spiritual power, nearly draining him completely.

Lin Feng sighed, realizing he must quickly reach Foundation Establishment upon returning to the sect, or his current cultivation would not withstand such a drain.

As dawn’s first rays filtered through the window onto his face, he slowly opened his eyes, a sharp gleam shining within. Though greatly exhausted, he felt immense accomplishment.

Rising and stretching, he remembered his promise to Jiang Yan and carefully rewrote the “Aspiring to the Clouds” poem by a renowned Earth predecessor named Xu Xiake, this time ensuring no spiritual energy leaked, recalling the perils of yesterday.

After washing and dressing, he stepped out, ready to embrace the new day—unaware of the looming crisis approaching.

Outside, the world bustled as usual, people flowing past, merchants shouting. Yet beneath this serene facade, a storm stirred quietly—one born of Lin Feng’s presence, waiting to unfold.