Night fell, and Lu Yuanding’s party made camp in the wilderness. The spiritual steeds were truly a world apart from ordinary horses. Feng Muchen, who had never learned to ride, was surprised to find he felt no fatigue even after a full day’s journey. “Lord Lu,” a young man asked, breaking the quiet of the evening. “How much longer until we reach Red Maple Mountain?” “These steeds can cover a thousand miles a day,” Lu Yuanding replied. “At this pace, it will take us a little over half a month.” A thousand miles a day? The youths exchanged disbelieving glances. Even Feng Muchen was left speechless by the sheer distance. It was too far. Lu Yuanding seemed not to notice their dismay. He produced a small porcelain bottle. “Half a month will pass quickly enough,” he said. “These are Fasting Pills. A single one will keep you from feeling hungry for a month. Here, take one each.” He went around, distributing the pills. Feng Muchen examined the brown, soybean-sized pellet in his palm for a moment before swallowing it without a second thought. On a journey like this, you took the medicine offered, even if it might be poison. Besides, he couldn't see any reason for the Lu family to harm them. After taking the pills and resting for a time, some of the youths sat cross-legged and began to cultivate, showing they already possessed their own techniques. Sun Wujie, however, moved off by himself to practice his martial arts. From their earlier conversations, Feng Muchen knew that Sun Wujie, the young leader of the Fierce Tiger Hall, was a formidable fighter. At only eighteen, he was already considered a top-tier expert in the martial world. After a rest of three or four hours, the group mounted up and continued their journey. And so, half a month crawled by in an arduous blur. “Lift your spirits. Red Maple Mountain is just ahead,” Lu Yuanding called from the head of the column, guiding his steed along the main road. He was addressing the dejected youths trailing behind him. Half a month of mind-numbing travel had left them all physically and mentally exhausted. Feng Muchen, too, felt his energy flagging. In his previous life, he’d found sitting in a car for a single day unbearable; riding a horse for two weeks was a new kind of misery. But at Lu Yuanding’s words, a spark of life returned to the group. The endless days on the road were finally coming to an end. The five Lu family cultivators escorting them also let out quiet sighs of relief. Their mission—to bring the immortal seedlings safely home—was almost complete. It was at that moment that the world erupted. Dozens of razor-sharp spikes of ice, glittering and translucent, burst from the ground around them, shooting toward the riders with lethal speed. “Ambush!” Lu Yuanding’s expression twisted in fury. He threw out a hand, fingers splayed, and a volley of fireballs, pulsing with heat, shot from his palm to intercept the icy projectiles. “Protect the immortal seedlings!” The other five Lu family cultivators reacted instantly, their own techniques flaring to life. Walls of earth rose and shimmering screens of water materialized to shield the youths. But the barrage of ice was too dense. Three of the seedlings cried out as spikes pierced their chests. With a sickening thud, they tumbled lifeless from their mounts. So this is the world of cultivation, Feng Muchen thought, swallowing hard. His face had gone pale. He might be a transmigrator, but in this life or his last, he had never witnessed such a slaughter. This was a first. And in that instant, he gained a chilling, firsthand understanding of the cultivation world’s cruelty. “Hahaha! Lu Yuanding, did you ask for my Chen family’s permission before trying to take these immortal seedlings?” Figures began to rise from the ground, as if born from the earth itself. At their head was a middle-aged man in a striking red robe. “Chen Shuisheng!” Lu Yuanding spat, his gaze cold. “How dare you act so recklessly in the territory of Red Maple Mountain!” He knew this man, of course. It was the head of their arch-rivals, the Chen family of Hongye Valley. But he’d never imagined they would dare launch a sneak attack so close to the Lu family’s own doorstep. Then again, the timing was perfect. His party was exhausted, their vigilance at its lowest. As he spoke, a yellow talisman appeared in his hand and ignited, vanishing in a flash of light. A messaging talisman. He was calling for help. “Kill them all, and be quick about it!” Chen Shuisheng sneered. His lips moved in a silent incantation, and as he clapped his hands together, a wave of frigid air blasted forward, coalescing into another volley of ice spikes aimed straight at Lu Yuanding. The ten cultivators behind him moved as one, their attacks aimed not at the Lu family guards, but at Feng Muchen and the other seedlings. The clearing exploded with the clash of elemental powers. The Chen family had superior numbers, and with the Lu cultivators forced to divide their attention between fighting and protecting their charges, they were immediately pushed onto the defensive. A green blade of wind sliced through the Lu family’s defenses. Before anyone could react, it bisected the seedling riding beside Feng Muchen. A spray of warm blood spattered across Feng Muchen’s face, stunning him into immobility. “Look out!” Another wind blade breached the perimeter, hurtling directly toward him. Sun Wujie, who was nearby, moved in a blur. He lunged, tackling Feng Muchen from his horse just as the blade hissed through the air where his head had been. “Thanks, Brother Sun,” Feng Muchen gasped, his heart pounding with a fear that lingered long after the danger had passed. If Sun Wujie hadn't acted, that wind blade would have killed him. To die so senselessly, as a transmigrator with a system no less, would have been a bitter irony. Witnessing the world’s brutality firsthand was terrifying, but it also forged his desire to cultivate into something hard as steel. In this world where only the strong survived, the weak were no more than ants, their lives as easily crushed as weeds. “Aaaah! Cultivation is too dangerous! I want to go home!” “Please, let me go! This has nothing to do with me!” “Run for it! If we stay here, we’re dead!” Seeing the Lu family losing ground and their fellow seedlings being slaughtered, some of the youths broke. Some wept and begged for their lives, while others bolted, trying to flee the chaos. Their flight was short-lived. The moment two of them cleared the Lu family’s protective cordon, they were vaporized by a convergence of fireballs, wind blades, and ice spikes. The brutal display froze the remaining would-be runners in place. All they could do now was huddle together like lambs awaiting slaughter, praying the Lu family could hold on. Fortunately, their prayers were answered. A few moments later, a series of sonic booms echoed from the distance. Figures were streaking through the sky from the direction of Red Maple Mountain. “Go!” Seeing that Lu reinforcements had arrived, Chen Shuisheng gave the order without hesitation. He and his men disengaged and vanished as quickly as they had appeared. “Father, are you alright?” A woman in a snow-white dress descended from the sky, landing gracefully beside Lu Yuanding. Her voice was like the tinkling of a clear spring, her face etched with concern. She was exquisitely beautiful, with delicate features and a slender figure. As her white dress fluttered, it offered a glimpse of pale, perfect legs. She seemed a celestial maiden who had descended to the mortal realm, leaving the surviving immortal seedlings, fresh from the gates of hell, utterly star-struck. Feng Muchen was no exception. In his past life, he’d been desensitized by the endless stream of internet beauties in the age of big data. He’d thought himself immune to being impressed. But the sight of this woman in white took his breath away. Her features were elegant, her eyes like autumn pools, her nose high and straight, her lips the color of rose petals. Her skin was as pale and smooth as jade. She was the very picture of otherworldly purity. But it was her temperament that was most captivating. She was graceful and ethereal, as pure as a snow lotus, radiating an air of aloof detachment. If not for the genuine worry on her face, she would have seemed a fairy, untouched by the world’s concerns. If I could marry into the Lu family and have children with a woman like her, a stray thought drifted through Feng Muchen’s mind, having fifty, or even a hundred, wouldn't be a problem. He immediately dismissed the notion. It was impossible. How could the daughter of the family head marry a mere son-in-law brought in for breeding? That was the stuff of daydreams. “I’m fine, Miaoge,” Lu Yuanding said, waving a hand at his daughter. “Just exhausted from the drain on my spiritual energy.” Lu Miaoge. Every young man present committed the name to memory. Feng Muchen was no different. The other Lu family members arrived one by one. Seeing that Lu Yuanding and his retinue were safe, they paid little mind to the eight dead immortal seedlings scattered on the ground. The loss was unfortunate, but hardly heartbreaking. After all, they had yet to invest anything in them. Soon after, the battered group finally arrived safely at Red Maple Mountain.

Chapter 3: A Journey Beyond Measure