Li Yan's gaze fell upon something written as "Soul Lamp." What was that? He was just about to ask more about it when a gentle voice from beside him broke his train of thought.
"Little junior, not far ahead is where we reside. I've heard that by old times this place boasted a multitude of houses. A century ago, however, some disciples who joined Little Bamboo Peak were drawn solely by its cultivation resources. Once they began to show even a hint of talent, they grew unwilling to be tied down with these menial tasks. One by one, they deserted us and joined the other four peaks to specialize in spirit insect cultivation, arrangement formations, or alchemy. Enraged, the master sealed off the peak—only occasionally accepting new disciples. As a result, our original stock of houses far outnumbered our needs. Later, the master dismantled roughly seventy or eighty percent of the buildings using his power. Now, the cleared spaces have been repurposed to nurture spiritual plants or for other uses, leaving us with just two or three tenths of the original structures."
Before Li Yan could voice his question about the "Soul Lamp," Lin Da Qiao slowed his pace and pointed at a vast expanse of densely packed residences ahead. Only then did Li Yan realize that, without noticing, they had arrived before a cluster of courtyards. Here, the spiritual qi was astonishingly potent—the very air felt heavy compared to the sparse atmosphere at the foot of the mountain.
Every residence in this area had been built entirely from ink bamboo, so that from a distance each structure appeared as a separate, self-contained courtyard. The courtyards were spaced about five or six hundred meters apart, and between them, dark green bamboo leaves swayed gently in the breeze. Their shimmering, crystalline glow obscured any view inside, lending these spaces an aura of solitude and tranquility. In some areas, a drifting mist curled overhead, further concealing and mystifying the enclosed spaces.
Immersed in this secluded bamboo grove, Li Yan felt his worries fade away. His heart seemed to sway rhythmically with the rustling bamboo—a welcome reprieve from the clamor of his thoughts.
"Little junior, there appear to be over fifty vacant courtyards here," Lin Da Qiao explained. "You may choose whichever you like; that courtyard will be entirely your own moving forward."
"Ah, very well—thank you, Seventh Senior Brother," Li Yan replied hastily.
Without further ado, the two of them began to wander amid the towering ink bamboos. They moved from one courtyard to another, occasionally pausing to open a door and inspect the interior.
After the time it took to finish a cup of tea, Li Yan and Lin Da Qiao found themselves standing before one particular courtyard. This one lay at the far end of the residential cluster—a secluded spot at the northwest edge. Although the various courtyards were nearly a mile apart (with the dense bamboo forest preventing any view among them), Li Yan had chosen this isolated retreat. There was no one living to the front, rear, or left; to the right lay the very edge of the compound, beyond which stretched an endless sea of ink bamboo. He found the seclusion most to his liking.
Surveying the idyllic landscape of his chosen courtyard, Li Yan felt an inner satisfaction. He decided then and there that he would live here. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if his Seventh Senior Brother would chime in with a word of protest—for perhaps the courtyard was too remote—but Lin Da Qiao merely offered a knowing nod. Later, Li Yan learned that cultivators, for their own peace of mind, generally preferred not to live too closely together. In other peaks, only disciples who had reached the Foundation Establishment stage or higher were granted the privilege of a private, standalone house; those still at the Nascent Qi stage had to share closely clustered buildings. This practice marked one of the distinctive differences between Little Bamboo Peak and the other peaks.
It turned out, however, that a century ago Little Bamboo Peak did have vast residential compounds for its Nascent Qi disciples. Those courtyards were reserved for cultivators who had at least reached Foundation Establishment. But later, Master Wei Dafu dismantled most of those structures—leaving only a few dozen courtyards remaining.
Li Yan's new courtyard covered an area of about forty zhang (roughly 240 feet across), making it quite spacious. Its perimeter was enclosed by a dense bamboo fence over two zhang high, intricately woven together. The house itself had been built from ink bamboo and consisted of five rooms. The courtyard was quiet and expansive, featuring nothing more than a stone table at its center with four stone stools arranged around it. Overhead, the sky peeked in through the bamboo leaves that extended over the yard, half-hidden by the natural canopy. In the southwest corner of the wall, a small garden had been cultivated. In that patch grew many blue flowers—of a kind Li Yan did not recognize—standing about one foot tall with slender green leaves and exuding a delicate, orchid-like fragrance. That subtle scent lent the air a quiet, serene timbre.
As Li Yan was admiring the bamboo courtyard, Lin Da Qiao reached over for Li Yan's storage pouch. With a casual pat, a flash of white light burst forth. In his hand now rested an object—a waist medallion, neither entirely golden nor purely made of iron. He murmured an incantation, then flicked the medallion deftly. From it emanated a streak of dark, inky radiance that shot to land on the bamboo fence. In an instant, swirling mists began to rise along the fence. This vapor churned and expanded, forming a neat, enclosing barrier along the outside of the fence without seeping into the courtyard. Within moments, the entire bamboo courtyard was shrouded by this protective fog.
Li Yan stared dumbfounded at the display, unsure what his Seventh Senior Brother was up to.
"Alright, now all you need to do is let a drop of your blood fall onto the medallion to bind it to you," Lin Da Qiao said, giving Li Yan's shoulder a friendly pat as he noticed the youngster's bewildered expression.
He continued, "Every bamboo courtyard is safeguarded by its own formation array. This waist medallion is inscribed with the immortal techniques required to control that array. Once you 'bind' it with your blood, you'll be able to control the protective formation. But a medallion can only activate one such array. For example, the medallion I wear—even though it controls the array protecting my own bamboo courtyard—only governs that single formation."
He explained further, "The medallion has additional uses, too. It carries within it the entrance identification mark for our sect's grand protective array. Without it, if someone were to intrude recklessly, the array would automatically activate its defenses. Our sect's protective array isn't merely a tool for illusions, shields, or direct strikes like other sects employ. Hidden within it are unknown poisonous insects, toxic gases, and noxious mists—the most fearsome elements. Even the Patriarchs in the Nascent Soul stage treat it with great caution."
At these words, Lin Da Qiao's usually tanned skin paled momentarily as if recalling a grim memory.
"Anyway," he resumed after a brief pause, "you must take good care of this waist medallion. If you lose it and have to replace it at the steward hall, you'll be punished. Our bamboo courtyard's protective formation is a standard array, designed to deter casual intrusion during cultivation, serving both as an early-warning system and as a defensive barrier. It's strong enough to repel an early Foundation Establishment cultivator's full-force assault—a force that could easily obliterate a small mortal town with a single strike. In this sect, however, no early Foundation cultivator would frivolously target someone else's formation—it's more than sufficient as it is. And if you ever feel that it isn't enough, you may seek out Sixth Senior Sister or the elders from Four Elephants Peak. They can help you set up an even more powerful array."
Listening intently, Li Yan's mind raced with questions. When Lin Da Qiao mentioned Sixth Senior Sister, memories of that tall, short-haired beauty with sun-kissed skin and an air of cool perfection flooded his thoughts. Unable to contain his curiosity, Li Yan asked, "Does Sixth Senior Sister know formations as well?"
Before he could wait for an answer, Lin Da Qiao patted his shoulder again—a gesture that made Li Yan internally groan, wondering, "We've only just met, and he already can't refrain from patting me on the shoulder."
"Little junior," Lin Da Qiao said good-naturedly, "our Little Bamboo Peak is much like a general emporium. Although we mostly handle menial, logistical tasks, the techniques we study are as diverse as the blossoms in full spring. Not only is Sixth Senior Sister brilliant with formations, but her one-on-one combat abilities are exceptional. Even Second Senior Brother is reluctant to confront her too often. The elders from Four Elephants Peak have even tried more than once to coax her over. Yet she refuses, unwilling to confine herself to only one discipline as those other peaks do. She fears that if she moves to Four Elephants Peak, she will neglect learning other techniques. Besides, her unique approach to formations in battle is nothing short of unpredictable."
Li Yan mused, "Formidable in single combat? I'd wager that Second Senior Brother himself has more explosive fighting prowess." Though his thoughts briefly drifted to the alluring figure of the short-haired beauty, he couldn't quite imagine her matching the brute strength of someone like Second Senior Brother.
"Little junior, let's go inside," Lin Da Qiao urged, "for there is still much to explain to you." As they walked toward a cluster of bamboo houses, Lin Da Qiao pointed out and explained the functions of various rooms.
"These rooms should suffice for your needs," he explained. "They are divided into spaces for resting, training, nurturing your spiritual plants, refining alchemy, and a living or guest room. Unless you have additional interests, you can live comfortably in these arrangements. And should you wish to build an extra dwelling within your courtyard, don't worry—it's not too difficult to learn. Just be mindful of the materials you choose when the time comes."
He added with a slight grin, "Even though your private courtyard is attended by servants who clean and care for the spiritual plants, they don't come frequently; you can still notice a bit of dust. Let me clear it for you." With that, Lin Da Qiao noticed that the courtyard wasn't as immaculate as it should be. Here and there, a fine layer of dust clung to surfaces. With a swift flick of his robe, several courtyard doors swung open at once. He rapidly formed a hand seal with both hands pressed before his chest and softly commanded, "Go!"
A flash of white light burst forth and transformed instantly into several moist, swirling gusts. These little twisters raced across the rooms and over the stone table and stools with a graceful, almost ethereal air. Their delicate movement brought with it a faint, otherworldly hum—a gentle "whoosh" that soon subsided into silence, leaving the courtyard spotless and gleaming.
"Alright, that's done," Lin Da Qiao said cheerfully as he clapped his hands and then led the way toward the central room.
Li Yan's eyes sparkled as he examined the stone table and stools—now free of even the slightest trace of dust and polished to a soft gleam.
"This is true immortal technique," Li Yan thought with renewed awe. "It isn't just for flight or for killing." His curiosity about such mystical arts only deepened. Turning around, he saw that Lin Da Qiao had already stepped into the central room, so he hurried to follow.
The room itself was vast—measuring roughly five or six zhang in width (an expanse of around 80 to 100 feet). A bamboo table sat at its center, set with a complete tea set and surrounded by several tall bamboo chairs. The walls were painted in a simple, cool blue-white hue and bore no decorations. Two wide bamboo windows opened outward, emphasizing the room's spartan elegance.
"This is the living room," explained Lin Da Qiao as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "The other rooms are arranged very simply—basically just beds, meditation mats, and such. We cultivators have little need for ostentation, and our master especially dislikes extravagance."
At the same time, in another bamboo courtyard located perhaps ten to twenty li away, in a modest room bathed in soft light, a young man and woman were conversing in hushed tones.
"You know," the woman remarked with a twinkle in her eye as she looked at the plump young man, "this new disciple isn't entirely straightforward. Though he's cautious in his actions, he's shifted the credit for slaying that military strategist almost entirely to that so-called marshal and his junior. When I questioned him deliberately, he answered only after apparently careful consideration."
This pair—the handsome master and his refined consort—were none other than the very couple under whom Li Yan had just been initiated.
The man sighed, "Yes, based on the investigation conducted by those disciples from Lingchong Peak and the inquiries into his background by our subordinate sects, it appears he set traps along the way, even orchestrating that final blow. Yet for a mere young man to behave in such a calculated manner… I suspect it's because of the unfortunate experiences he's endured—experiences that have hardened him and instilled a deep mistrust of others."
The lady's eyes, glittering with concern, asked, "So, how much of what he told you about his cultivation is genuine? How much is fabricated? Is he hiding the truth entirely?"
The man shook his head in resignation. "I'd wager he's holding back, and much of it may even be a lie. But does it matter? For billions of years our sect has studied these mysteries—yet we still haven't unlocked the true origin of his peculiar constitution. We could try using soul-searching techniques to extract the secrets locked away in his mind, but that isn't the result I desire. Every person has their own fate. This poor mortal youth has fought tooth and nail for a mere glimpse of life—why should others have the right to snatch it away? That's precisely why I plan to accept him. Otherwise, his future might be tragically bleak. Once he begins to feel a sense of belonging to the sect, I believe he will eventually open up."
A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he continued softly, "Dear sister, perhaps I'm simply not cut out for the immortal path. The master entrusted me with the vast Little Bamboo Peak only for it to end up being managed so remorselessly. Witnessing this child's hardship has stirred compassion in me. The path of cultivation—I really cannot bring myself to sever all worldly attachments. Perhaps in this lifetime, I'll never truly form a Nascent Soul."
At that moment, a delicate pair of pale, soft hands reached out and gently clasped the plump man's hand. "It is precisely because you possess such sentiment, that you have a soul—and that is what I love about you," she murmured tenderly. Her gaze shone with warmth, and then, with a playful little snort reminiscent of a mischievous young girl, she teased him further.
"Hmph, besides," he replied with a half-smile, "back in the day you weren't always the saintly type either—you just did what you thought best with people and matters. Those were different times…"
The woman, her hand cupping her chin in a reminiscent gesture, fell silent as her thoughts wandered back to those bygone days.