Nezha travelled by day and cultivated by night, smoothly transitioning from the Inspiration Realm to the God Absorption Realm, without any hindrance.
When it came time to condense his Golden Core, he truly encountered the first threshold on the path of cultivation.
Mr. Fan lingered at this threshold for thirty years without finding the method and ultimately gave up.
Li Jing, too, was blocked by this threshold, abandoning the path of cultivation to instead seek earthly wealth.
Shi Ji also said that the deeper one obsesses over the Golden Core Technique, the farther one strays from truly entering its gate.
For the first time in his life, Nezha experienced the bloody slaughter of today, stirring emotions he thought were signs of an imminent breakthrough, so he sat down cross-legged by the fire.
After consuming an Inspiration Creation Pill, his mind suddenly cleared as the elixir dissolved.
He closed his eyes, and it seemed like there were several high monks around him chanting sutras, their echoes lingering, reminiscent of the temple sceneries from his past life.
For a moment, his mind wandered, but then he quickly refocused under the influence of the elixir’s power.
The Inspiration Creation Pills, acquired from Ao Bing, were specifically used for such moments, to maintain clarity of body and mind amidst any troubles, grasping the fleeting inspiration.
Sadly, there were only ten pills.
Nezha then began reciting the Golden Core Heaven Sun Scripture, thinking to himself that if killing could lead to breakthroughs, would he then have to prove his path through slaughter, embarking on a lawless and demonic journey?
With a shift in thought, it was the next morning.
The dawn light pierced through the sky, awakening the slumbering earth.
Nezha gathered his belongings and continued on his way, leading his horse.
Several high monks had chanted through the night, and yet the so-called Golden Core Technique remained elusive. Nezha was not disheartened; as Mr. Fan had said, he was only seven, with a long road ahead.
"And fucking hell, I’m a genius."
A night’s cultivation left him without any gains regarding the Golden Core Technique, but it cleared all exhaustion, leaving him refreshed — indeed, it is said that Immortals do not sleep, and this is why.
Once he left the mountain, Nezha finally reached inhabited lands, feeding his horse and buying food, then continued traveling day and night for seven days.
Near Sanshan Pass, less than a hundred miles away, there was a town.
This town, originally called Shiliu Town, was a large settlement of several thousand people, but three years ago, during an intense battle on an ancient battlefield outside the town, the ground split open revealing a fiery chasm, swallowing nearly ten thousand people. In a month, it grew 200 feet tall.
Hundreds of miles of the plains outside Sanshan Pass, one could see this mountain, red and dark, belching smoke all day.
But the volcanic activity also redirected the underground rivers, scalding the pomegranate trees outside Shiliu Town, yet leaving behind several natural volcanic hot springs.
Rumors flew that these waters had spiritual properties, strengthening the body and prolonging life.
Thus, despite the death of the pomegranate trees, the constant flow of visiting traders kept the townspeople’s livelihood intact, and Shiliu Town was renamed Lingquan Town.
About a year ago, someone discovered a treasure inside the volcano, and since then, cultivators often streak across the sky above the mountain and the town using Five-Colored Escaping Light.
Nezha learned this from a guide he paid with silver before reaching the town.
Only when he actually arrived at Lingquan Town did he realize that although the architecture was exquisite and the main streets were well-paved, the faces of the pedestrians seemed even more troubled than those at Chentang Pass fishing village before the Great Witch’s death.
Times of great chaos always led to widespread suffering among the common folk.
Nezha came here for one reason: from Chentang Pass to Sanshan Pass, though there were several routes, all ultimately passed through Lingquan Town.
However, Nezha found Lingquan Town rather intriguing.
Ever since he changed into clean clothes outside the town and led his red horse onto the newly rain-washed cobblestone path, he noticed many ill-intentioned gazes watching him from along the street.
On the main street, pedestrians were not scarce, along with squads of armored soldiers hurrying on their way; yet even so, their gazes remained unabated.
The inns on both sides of the road were filled with carefree and jovial patrons, while the dirty corners outside the inns were covered with beggars, their faces numb and bodies ragged.
Local residents who had houses and livelihoods naturally would not beg outside, and people from afar would not come to a chaotic place like Sanshan Pass to beg either.
Unless they were nearby refugees, or residents whose livelihoods had been destroyed.
Nezha led his horse to a stop at an inn on the main thoroughfare of the town. Right at the entrance of the inn was a small beggar, appearing about his age, dressed in tattered clothes, with a yellow thin face, cracked lips, and lifeless eyes.
He lay there, holding a chipped pottery bowl, not looking like a living person, but rather like a dried corpse.
Nezha’s Qiankun Bag still contained enough dry rations for ten people for ten days, but he did nothing about it.
Along the way, he understood one thing—if he attended to every refugee he encountered, in less than a day, these people would gnaw him down to his bones.
They were neither good nor bad people; they were simply driven to desperation by the times.
Of course, if this small beggar ran up to Nezha and asked him for some food, Nezha would not be stingy.
The waiter in Lingquan Town’s inn was no different from that of Bailing Town—savvy in appearance, dressed neatly and smartly, with a white towel draped over his shoulder, and upon seeing a guest, he immediately ran over with a smile that was neither overly enthusiastic nor neglectful.
He enthusiastically took the reins of the chestnut horse, glanced at Nezha from head to toe, and shouted into the inn with a raised voice, "Nobility has arrived, someone come and take the horse, fetch some top-quality bean cakes and dry fodder, make sure this young master’s horse is well attended to, and keep watch properly."
After that, he bowed his head and explained to Nezha, "Young master, you must have come out from Sanshan Pass nearby, right? Hey, let me tell you, the times are tough now, with refugees everywhere. If you’re not careful, though they wouldn’t dare steal the horse, they could eat up all the fodder in the trough. Are you here to eat or to stay over?"
Nezha replied, "Bring me a top-class guest room and some fine dishes."
There were quite a few people inside the inn, but there were also many empty tables. He specifically chose a table near the outside, settled down, sipped on the green leaf tea Mr. Fan often enjoyed, while his eyes surveyed the busy street ahead of him.
If Feng Xiaonian was to go to Sanshan Pass, he would certainly pass through this street before his eyes.
As for when he would arrive, Nezha did not know.
Only one thing was certain—he hadn’t arrived yet.
As Bi Yun had said before, traveling alone and taking shortcuts, even if Feng Xiaonian’s team traveled quickly, there was no way they could travel faster than him.
As for the sinister alleyways around and the discreet yet malevolent stares from deep within the inn, Nezha found nothing strange.
After all, a seven-year-old child, clad in gold and jewels, leading a rare and majestic chestnut horse, appeared to everyone like a tender lamb that must not be missed or else it would result in heavenly retribution.
Of course, the sight was also strangely intriguing.
And this intrigue was precisely the reason these people hesitated to make a move.
Nezha knew if he didn’t show some strength soon, they would eventually make a move, but Nezha had no intention of doing so. He preferred to retaliate after they took action and eliminate them all.
After all, they were just riff-raff.
But the money on these riff-raff was still genuine gold and silver.
Moreover, when they began to target a seven-year-old child they didn’t even know, in Nezha’s view, they deserved their fates.
If it were another cultivator, perhaps they would be more cautious at this time, because before reaching the Golden Core Realm, the physical body was no different from ordinary people, and no matter how many magical treasures and divine skills, a surprise blow to the back of the head could end a life, even a roadside beggar could take it.
But Nezha was not an ordinary cultivator. Not to mention the Dao Bone spiritual root within him, the strength of his body alone was far superior to that of typical Golden Core Realm cultivators.
According to Shi Ji, if a human cultivator wasn’t exceptionally gifted, even if they cultivated a top-grade Golden Core of the seventh rank, in terms of the physical body alone, they wouldn’t dare claim to surpass him.
But as mentioned earlier, alongside these ill-intentioned riff-raff in the inn, there were other interesting things for Nezha, who was stepping out of Chentang Pass for the first time in this world.
For example, the woman standing beside the table next door—dressed in tattered clothes, slender in build, with a somewhat delicate face, but due to high cheekbones, she could not be considered gentle.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢