Chapter 162: Stepping into the Mortal World

Outside Spirit Pavilion Peak, two streaks of escape light descended silently into the air above the mountain. The spiritual light faded, revealing two figures.

One stood in front, wearing the robes of the Baixuan City Cave Dwelling Bureau. His cultivation was only at Late-Stage Foundation Establishment. The other stood half a step behind him—a stern-faced man in his thirties or forties dressed in dark robes, visibly at the Late Golden Core stage.

The middle-aged man swept his gaze over the entire peak. After studying it for a moment, he turned to the disciple beside him.

"Are you certain this is the place? Spirit Pavilion Peak?" he asked.

The disciple hastily cupped his hands.

"To answer the elder, this is indeed the place," he replied respectfully. "Over a century ago, the senior residing in this cave dwelling came to the Cave Dwelling Bureau to lease this peak, paying a hundred years' rent in full. The lease expired a few years ago, but this disciple did not dare trespass. I took the liberty of asking the elder to come and make a decision."

The middle-aged man did not rush to answer.

Riding the wind, he moved a little closer, stopping a few dozen zhang from the summit. He raised his hand and gently struck the empty air ahead. Before his palm even landed, a transparent barrier silently materialized to block him. Spiritual light flowed across the barrier; its aura was steady and restrained, yet it emanated a profound mystery he simply could not see through.

He pulled his hand back, his brow twitching slightly.

"What a profound array," he muttered.

The moment the words left his mouth, a voice drifted down from right above him.

"Are you looking for me?" the voice asked. The tone was flat, yet it carried an unignorable composure.

The middle-aged man's heart jolted in alarm, and he abruptly looked up. Right above him, he saw a figure hovering in the air, though he had no idea when the man had arrived.

The newcomer looked to be only in his early twenties. He wore a jade hairpin and a treasured ring, and his golden-sleeved robes fluttered gently in the wind. Though his face was young, his gaze held a stillness far beyond his years. Faint golden light flowed in his eyes as he peered down at the elder.

The middle-aged man stealthily extended his divine sense to probe. A moment later, his composure shattered. The aura of the man before him belonged unmistakably to a Nascent Soul cultivator—and it was far too deep and rich for someone who had just broken through.

Forcing down his surging shock, he quickly lowered his posture and bowed to the man in the air.

"This junior is an elder of the Baixuan City Cave Dwelling Bureau," he said, his tone softening considerably. "I apologize for my presumptuous intrusion today. The lease for the Spirit Pavilion Peak cave dwelling you reside in expired a few years ago, and this junior originally came to reclaim it... However, since Senior is now a Nascent Soul cultivator, the city's rules dictate that you may stay on this peak for as long as you wish. It would be no trouble for this junior to ask my superiors to transfer ownership of this mountain directly to your name."

As he spoke, he discreetly kept a close eye on Jiuyou's expression, terrified of saying the wrong thing and offending a Nascent Soul cultivator.

Jiuyou did not answer immediately. He glanced down at the two men, his gaze calm. There was no killing intent and no displeasure, only an indifference, as if he had just pulled his attention back from somewhere far away.

"There is no need," he said. His voice was not loud, but it rang clearly in their ears. "I won't be staying in this cave dwelling much longer. If you want to reclaim it, take it back."

With that, he gently flicked his sleeve. His figure instantly dissolved into a faint golden shadow and vanished into thin air. Only when that invisible, oppressive pressure fully dissipated did the middle-aged man and the disciple behind him dare to stand up straight.

The two men stood rooted in place, exchanging a glance.

"Um... Elder, how should we... handle this?" the disciple asked hesitantly, a trace of lingering fear still clinging to his face.

The middle-aged man straightened his robes and coughed once.

"We handle it according to the rules," he replied with a stiff face.

The disciple hastily voiced his agreement, not daring to ask another question. They cast one last look at Spirit Pavilion Peak. Seeing no further movement, they transformed into two streaks of escape light and flew back the way they came.

The mountain peak returned to silence. Only the wind swept over the summit, carrying the scent of grass and trees as it swirled around the empty cave dwelling entrance before scattering away.

Jiuyou flew past magnificent, imposing immortal pavilions, watching the interwoven spiritual lights grow sparser and sparser. He could feel the spiritual qi of heaven and earth thinning out layer by layer.

A moment later, his figure quietly appeared in the lower ten layers of Hundred Declarations City. This area was effectively the outermost perimeter of the city, far removed from the prosperity of the center. The vast majority of people here were Qi Refining Stage cultivators, and there were even many mortals.

The buildings lining the streets were shorter and humbler, built with green bricks and gray tiles. Their eaves drooped low, lacking the brilliant, flowing lights of the upper levels.

The pedestrians wore simple clothes and walked with unhurried steps. Every now and then, someone set up a roadside stall to hawk melons, fruits, and coarse grains. The earthly, mundane atmosphere here was far thicker than in the city center.

The further out he went, the fewer cultivators he saw, and the more mortals appeared. By the time he neared the city moat, there were hardly any cultivators left at all.

Jiuyou strolled slowly along the riverbank. His gaze swept over the figures toiling in the fields, the women cooking beneath the eaves, and the children chasing each other in play. He walked at a leisurely pace—as if he were observing something, yet also as if he were looking at nothing at all.

After a while, he came to a halt. He looked down at his hands, as if feeling for something.

"Cultivation arts truly do influence one's temperament," he murmured.

He had always believed that a cultivation art could affect a person's disposition, but it wasn't until he completely switched his cultivation art that he realized just how deeply a chosen art could change someone.

In the past, he had thought that whether he chose to kill or to enter closed-door seclusion, every step was a choice he had made himself; it shouldn't all be blamed on his cultivation art. Yet after switching his path, the baleful aura that had plagued him for so long really had dispersed, and the violent urges that constantly churned in his bones had faded away with it.

He touched his chest. It was perfectly steady, as if he had become an entirely different person.

"No matter how things change in here, I am still me. I am Jiuyou," he said.

He lowered his hand and continued walking. The cultivators grew fewer and fewer until eventually, everyone he passed was a mortal.

He stood among the crowds, brushing shoulders with mortals carrying shoulder poles, driving oxen, and holding babies. Nobody noticed him, and no one spared him a second glance. He mimicked their gait and walked for a distance, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

'Mortal World Heart Tempering...' he thought. 'What exactly am I supposed to temper? Severing the mortal world... I severed those ties a thousand years ago. If I must temper my heart, what is left to temper? Don't tell me I have to rely on these mortals who can't even live a hundred years, who can't escape birth, aging, illness, and death?'

His footsteps faltered slightly, but he still chose to keep moving forward.

By the time he reached the first layer of Hundred Declarations City, the town along the riverbank was unnervingly quiet. The low-slung houses were built along the river, and the last few streaks of sunset glow reflected on the water's surface. There were no spiritual lights, no escape arts—only the fine ripples stirred up by the wind blowing across the river.

He stood by the river and watched for a while.

Just then, a middle-aged man carrying a yoke of water buckets walked up from behind. Seeing an unfamiliar face, he set down his load and wiped his sweat.

"Hey, young man! I haven't seen you around before," he said with a smile. "Are you new to Hundred Declarations City?"

Jiuyou turned his head to glance at him, then nodded.

"Yes. Brother, I'd like to ask—how does one rent a shop in this area?"

The man pointed deeper into the town.

"Just walk to the end of this street. There's a place that handles all the storefronts," he said. "Just tell them what you need when you get there. By the way, what kind of shop are you planning to open?"

Jiuyou paused. He genuinely hadn't thought about that. Open an apothecary? That would be too conspicuous. Open a general store? He didn't know how to sell everyday goods.

"A jade carving shop," he answered casually after a brief moment of thought.

The man didn't pry any further. He picked up his water buckets again and smiled at him.

"Jade carving is good! No one's opened one around here yet," he said.

With that, he carried his water away. The water in the buckets sloshed gently, leaving a trail of wet stains on the bluestone path.

Jiuyou stood by the road, watching the receding figure. Only when the man vanished around the corner did he retract his gaze and slowly walk down the street.