The place where they stood was a mountain valley. On both sides the cliffs rose steep and sheer, jagged peaks jutting upward almost straight into the sky. Liu Xiaolou gazed for a long time before finally realizing that what he saw above wasn’t fire blazing in the heavens, but red clouds glowing like embers. The glow washed across the land, tinting every face with a faint flush.

Su Zhi was the first to climb. Only today did Liu Xiaolou see with his own eyes what his cultivation truly was. His wide sleeves billowed, swaying gently in the wind, and he drifted up along the cliff face like a butterfly. How he floated upward was impossible to tell. He simply rose.

Su Xun followed close behind. He wasn’t wearing the loose robes, so Liu Xiaolou could see clearly this time. He wasn’t floating at all. Every few yards his toes struck lightly against the cliff, as though he were using the recoil of his true qi to lift himself higher.

This was how a high-level Golden Core cultivator moved. It wasn’t quite flying, but to Liu Xiaolou it didn’t feel far from it.

Then came six Foundation Establishment cultivators. Four were elders of the Su clan, two of them of the same generation as Su Zhi and Su Xun, the other two a generation older. Fifth Lady and Ninth Lady, standouts among the younger generation, were with them as well.

Of the Su family’s younger Foundation Establishment cultivators, all three were women. One had long since married into a family in Yuezhou, a loss that Su Zhi, as head of the clan, still regretted deeply.

When the six ascended the cliff, there was none of that airy drifting. They still didn’t use their hands, but their feet landed firmly against the rock. Every few yards they stepped and launched themselves upward, surging toward the top.

People said the Su clan had fallen, but “fallen” was only in comparison to their former glory. Even now, with two Golden Cores and six Foundation Establishment cultivators in the family, they were far beyond what ordinary houses or small sects could ever dream of. That was the depth of a thousand years of heritage.

Last came the Qi Refinement disciples. This time the scene felt more down-to-earth. A few senior uncles at the peak of Qi Refinement scrambled up the cliff like geckos, moving nearly as fast as those in Foundation Establishment. The younger disciples, like Su Ling, climbed according to their level, using both hands and feet, sometimes flipping in midair as they went, making for quite a sight.

The most grounded of all was Liu Xiaolou. Not because he didn’t want to look graceful, but because the cliff was too steep, too high, and too slick. At the fourth layer  of Qi Refinement, all he could do was cling tightly to the rock and make his way up. Compared to the past, his progress was enormous, but next to the Su clan elites gathered for this ceremony, he looked clumsy.

He had never climbed anything so high or so sheer. By the time he reached two-thirds of the way up, he found himself alone. Then Fifth Lady leapt down from above, landed beside him, slipped an arm around his, and with a light toss sent him soaring upward like he was riding the clouds. He landed atop the cliff to see the rest of the Su clan already following behind Su Zhi, their bodies receding in the distance.

He turned back with a smile. “Thank you, Ninth Lady!”

She shot him a glare. “Keep up.”

Beyond the cliff there were no more precipices, only dark red hills rolling gently into the distance, opening onto a vast plain stretching for miles.

The hills were all bare earth, with only a few shrubs scattered here and there. Across the plain grew a single kind of tree, some tall enough to pierce the sky, others shorter yet still reaching thirty or forty feet. Each stood a hundred yards apart, their broad crowns spread wide like enormous umbrellas.

Looking back, what valley was there? It was no valley at all, but a fissure sunken into the plain.

Liu Xiaolou caught up with the Su clan and took in the strange scenery around them. Every so often he looked up at the crimson clouds overhead. The sight gave him a constant dread, as if countless flames might come pouring down to engulf him. His heart trembled with awe. Was this the Danxia Grotto-Heaven?

They walked through this separate world for about two hours. The trees grew denser as they went, and not only trees; streams appeared too, winding between the red earth hills, bubbling and flowing without end.

An oasis.

The air was filled with the fragrance of grass and leaves, the cool dampness of water, and a freshness that seemed to seep straight into the heart. It was as clean as spirit rice, as fragrant as spirit wine, as enticing as spirit stones.

The breath of spiritual energy suffused every inch of space around them, wrapping over their skin and sinking into each breath they took.

For the Su clan, all this was nothing unusual. They never lacked the spiritual energy needed for cultivation; what they lacked was the insight required to break through. But to Liu Xiaolou, everything before him was a treasure beyond measure. He sank into the thick aura, intoxicated and reluctant to pull himself free.

He no longer cared about attending any ceremony. All he wanted was to find a quiet spot, sit down, and devote himself entirely to absorbing the spiritual energy. He tried drawing it in with his cultivation method, refining it into true qi, and indeed it brought him gains. But the results, while real, were far less efficient than absorbing from spirit stones, not even as good as drinking spirit wine. At most it was only slightly better than eating spirit rice. At that rate, a whole year of cultivation would amount to no more than the essence of four or five spirit stones.

Cultivating solely in this way would, over time, certainly bring benefits. But the pace was far too slow. It didn’t match the reputation of a blessed Grotto-Heaven. There had to be places far better for cultivation here, perhaps even the legendary spirit springs.

He looked around. At the center of the oasis stood a square-shaped mound, though “mound” was hardly the right word. It was more like a massive boulder. Twenty zhang high, about one li across, its flat top looked as if it had been neatly carved by human hands.

Encircling the giant earthen stone were more than a dozen strange, stunted banyan trees. They were no taller than fifteen feet, but from their crowns hung countless aerial roots that plunged into the soil, branching again and again until they formed hollow, natural tree-houses.

At some point, the Ninth Lady had appeared at Liu Xiaolou’s side. She spoke softly: “Do you know what kind of tree this is?”

“It looks like a banyan, only I’ve never seen one grow like this,” Liu Xiaolou said curiously.

She said, “This is a Thunderstruck Banyan. For the Danxia Sect, it’s the best place to practice the Five Thunders True Art in seclusion. Each tree grows beside a spirit spring. The aura from the spring seeps upward and gathers inside the tree-houses. Cultivating within them is no different from sitting amid a pile of spirit stones. In fact, the spirit stones of the Danxia Sect are condensed right here, at the springs beneath these trees.”

So there was a spirit eye beneath the tree! Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help a rush of excitement. It was the first time he had ever been so close to the source where spirit stones formed. He couldn’t hold back from asking, “Would there be any chance for me to try it myself?”

“Even I don’t have the right. What chance do you think you have?” Ninth Lady replied.

Liu Xiaolou was startled. “Even you don’t? Then who does?”

She gave a cold laugh. “What did I just tell you this tree is called?”

And then Liu Xiaolou understood. “Thunderstruck Banyan… it really gets struck by lightning?”

“Then how else would you cultivate the Five Thunders True Art?”

“Does practicing the Five Thunders mean getting struck by lightning? When would someone even be able to learn it?”

“Only a Golden Core cultivator could barely withstand it. Only then can one start training.”

“I see… Ninth Lady, do these Thunderstruck Banyans produce a lot of spirit stones?”

“Each tree condenses one to three spirit stones a day. Exactly how much? That’s hard to say.”

Liu Xiaolou did a quick calculation. There were twelve Thunderstruck Banyans in the oasis. That meant the Danxia Sect’s annual spirit stone production ranged somewhere between five thousand and ten thousand. He had never heard of spirit stones being counted in the thousands before. Suddenly realizing it, his mind soared in disbelief.

If one day they sent out a widespread Heroes' Post and broke through this Grotto-Heaven… the scene… he dared not even imagine it.