This was a rare spirit insect, the Golden Ring Bee.

The Thousandfold Formulas Manual described it like this: it had intelligence, its stinger and wings could be refined into tools, its honey carried spiritual energy, and eating it regularly could strengthen cultivation. But it was extremely aggressive. When the swarm moves, even a beginner in Qi Refinement would be unwise to provoke it, or their life could be at risk.

Susu had mentioned before that the great Weiyu Soaring Crane Sect raised this kind of spirit bee, though they’re hardly ever seen in the wild. No one expected to run into one here.

Liu Xiaolou immediately stepped forward and broke up the Miao people’s ritual. With just a casual display of skill, he cowed them into holding back. After exchanging only a few words with their leader, he secured the right to harvest the Golden Ring Bee.

The Miao people had come from a village several miles away. A few months earlier, a nest of Golden Ring Bees had suddenly appeared here. Not recognizing them, the Miao were stung, and several lives were lost. They gathered together, planning to wipe out what they saw as a deadly pest. Now that an immortal master like Liu Xiaolou was willing to step in, they no longer had to risk the lives of their young men. Naturally, they welcomed him, and Liu Xiaolou was more than happy to take advantage of the situation.

Climbing up the cliff face, he drew the Three-Mystery Sword. A blade of sword-light, already more than a foot long, shimmered coldly as it circled the hive, cutting down the Golden Ring Bees that crawled out, slicing each neatly in two. The sword-light was still soft as a willow branch, but Liu Xiaolou had long since adapted to it and even developed his own style of combat around it. The movements of the sword-light were unpredictable and strange, yet extremely precise, perfectly suited for dealing with these bees.

The hive was clearly still in its growth stage. There were only seven or eight adult Golden Ring Bees inside. Once they reached maturity their wild nature was fixed, and they could never be tamed. Before long, Liu Xiaolou had cut them all down. Only the queen and the larvae remained in the hive. Liu Xiaolou carefully plucked it free, then leapt down from the cliff.

He asked the Miao for a sheepskin pouch, placed the hive inside, tied it shut, and poked a number of tiny holes for air. He tossed the pouch into his basket, overjoyed.

This was something rarely seen. He never expected to come across it during this southern journey. His luck was extraordinary. Once he returned to Qianzhu Ridge, he planned to hang it somewhere suitable and raise it. Then he would have spirit honey to enjoy in the future.

Still, he only knew a little of the Su family’s methods for raising spirit insects, from what Susu had once mentioned. He didn’t really understand it. To raise them properly, he would need Susu. Back when she lived in the back mountains of Shenwu, this was exactly what she did.

For a moment, Liu Xiaolou found himself missing Susu.

The dead bees also shouldn’t go to waste. One by one, he gathered them up, pulling out their wings and stingers to store away. These were rare and valuable materials for refining formation disks.

After politely refusing the Miao people’s offer of a feast, he left the mountains they called Dehang, the sound of their drums following him as he continued south.

Running into miasma and then finding a Golden Ring Bee hive had already been unbelievably lucky. After that, the journey returned to its usual calm. Before long he entered southern Xian. Passing by Jinping Mountain, where years ago they had fought a great battle, Liu Xiaolou stopped at the northern cliff where the heroes had once gathered. Looking down, he saw that Jinping Manor had already recovered its vitality and was thriving once again.

He stood there for a long time, full of emotion. He still didn’t know why Old Wang had vanished without a trace, and the heroes of Wulong Mountain hadn’t received a single invitation to arms in years. He missed those days dearly.

A day later, he left Xian behind and stepped onto the land of Lingnan. That very day, he veered westward, walking an extra dozen li or so, until deep among the mountains he found Xiushan.

Xiushan itself wasn’t much to look at. Pretty, perhaps, but nothing extraordinary. The one who gave the place renown was the Fairy Jingzhen, who had claimed the mountain. A cultivator in the late Foundation Establishment stage, she was known for her skill in artifact refining, especially for refining Cicada Wing Armor.

This armor was made mainly from the wings of the seven-winged golden cicadas native to Xiushan. It was light and resilient, worn comfortably beneath one’s clothes, and could enhance agility while also strengthening defense. It was especially popular among female cultivators from sects across the land. A single set could sell for twenty or thirty spirit stones.

Jingzhen herself had never bothered to establish a formal sect. She simply took in a few female disciples, taught them cultivation, and spent her days with them raising cicadas, tending flowers, and refining Cicada Wing Armors.

Xiushan was small, just a solitary peak only a few dozen yards high. Liu Xiaolou circled the base once, no more than two li around, and found the mountain gate at the eastern foot.

From there he climbed the stone steps, winding his way up until he came to a dense grove of bamboo palms, each thick enough that a grown man would need both arms to encircle one. Here and there golden cicadas clung to the trunks, their wings shimmering in the sunlight with sparks of gold like starlight.

The sight left Liu Xiaolou stunned. He hardly dared to breathe, afraid of disturbing these tiny, glowing creatures, and stepped carefully as he made his way deeper into the grove.

All of a sudden, a young female cultivator emerged from the mist within the forest. She carried a bamboo basket on her arm, and with a graceful wave of her pale hand, the cicadas fluttered down into her palm. With deft movements she plucked a single wing from each one’s back, then gently set them back on the trees.

She was striking, with bright eyes and fine features, and something about her face seemed oddly familiar. Her gaze drifted from the cicadas to Liu Xiaolou. She blinked, and then simply froze.

Their eyes met. After a pause, Liu Xiaolou tried speaking: “Ah-Zhen?”

It truly was Ah-Zhen. She hurried a few steps closer, stopping before him, her eyes brimming with joy. She covered her mouth in disbelief. “Brother Xiaolou,” she said.

She really had blossomed. The Ah-Zhen standing in front of him looked nothing like the twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl in his memory, the one who used to bounce around with her hair tied up in little braids. Liu Xiaolou gave a wry smile. “Not bad, not bad...”

“Not bad what?” she asked.

“Not bad that I came now. If I’d waited another two years, I probably wouldn’t have even recognized you. Ah-Zhen, you’ve grown up.”

Ah-Zhen nodded. “Mm. It’s been five years.” She paused, then added, “You’ve grown up too, Brother Xiaolou. Grandpa said you married into the Su family on Shenwu Mountain... How’s life there? What made you think of coming to see me?”

Liu Xiaolou chuckled. “The Su family cast me out earlier this year. I’ve already gone back to Wulong Mountain. This time I’m heading south on some business, so I stopped by to see you... Oh, right. Uncle Tian pickled some turnip greens for you.” He pulled a small jar from his basket and handed it to her.

Ah-Zhen lifted the lid, leaned in, and took a long sniff, her face glowing with delight.

“How far have you gotten in your cultivation, Ah-Zhen?”

“Third layer. In a few more months I’ll be ready to try for the fourth.”

“Not bad, not bad...”

“And what do you mean by ‘not bad’ this time?”

“Ah-Zhen, you’re making progress so quickly. Luckily I came now. If I’d waited another two years, you might have already surpassed me. By then I’d be too ashamed to face you.”

They chatted a little longer, and the distance between them shrank. Bit by bit, they found again that feeling from their younger days, and the air between them grew familiar once more.

Liu Xiaolou asked about her cultivation and daily life on Xiushan, while Ah-Zhen was more curious about how he’d ended up being cast out. Liu Xiaolou picked out a few amusing stories to tell, and had Ah-Zhen laughing until she was out of breath. They also spoke of last year’s great battle. Ah-Zhen was relieved that Liu Xiaolou hadn’t taken part, yet saddened at how many of Wulong Mountain’s seniors had lost their lives.

And so the two of them talked of everything and nothing, aimlessly passing more than two hours. As the sun dipped toward the west, they finally parted ways.

Continuing south from Xiushan, the weather grew hotter and hotter. Liu Xiaolou had to reverse his true qi flow just to summon up a chill, sleeves fluttering with cool air.

Two days later, a market town came into view ahead. It was even livelier than Tianmen Market, but Liu Xiaolou’s gaze wasn’t on the bustling stalls. His eyes were fixed instead on the towering mountain rising behind it.

Luofu Mountain, one of the ten most famous blessed grotto-heavens under the sky.