Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 629: Chapter 307: Who Among Heroes Can Be My Match? When Success Arrives, So Too Comes the Tribulation

On Dragon Tiger Mountain, a catastrophe befalls the Daoist Sect. In the Immortal Family, teachings are spread north and south.

More than thirty years ago, the South Zhang lineage was annihilated, never to be heard again.

Who could have predicted that the incense of this lineage has not been extinguished and that there are successors in the world.

"South Zhang successor... South Zhang successor..."

Zhang Wuming’s eyes trembled, fixedly staring at Zhang Fan.

At this moment, his heart surged with waves, finally unable to suppress or calm it.

He never dreamed that a chance encounter, a stranger met in a foreign land, would be a South Zhang successor.

To Zhang Wuming, this identity is even more shocking and unbelievable compared to being a Wuwei Sect successor.

"Your expression is quite interesting right now."

Zhang Fan looked at Zhang Wuming’s expression, with a slight lift of his mouth, smiling happily.

Even with eight hundred ideas in his mind, at this moment, he was at a loss, making Zhang Wuming seem more pleasing.

"Is it still possible for me to leave now?" Zhang Wuming asked with a bitter smile.

Zhang Fan’s identity was more sensitive than he imagined.

"I fear it’s too late."

"Destiny... is truly interesting."

Saying this, Zhang Fan raised his hand and patted Zhang Wuming’s shoulder.

"South Zhang descendant, enter."

At this moment, that old hoarse voice returned from within the Yellow Skin Cave, and at the cave entrance, the flames from the mouths of the stone beasts flickered.

Huang Jiu watched Zhang Fan, her expression dazed.

That cave, usually not even the descendants who had turned into demons could easily step foot in.

"Zhang Fan..."

From afar, Li Miaoyin suddenly called out, her beautiful eyebrows furrowed slightly, shaking her head instinctively, with a hint of worry in her beautiful eyes.

Zhang Fan nodded, indicating no problem, paused slightly, then stepped into the pitch-black ancient cave.

Drip... Drip...

Inside the ancient cave, the sound of cold and clear water droplets falling echoed from the depths.

Zhang Fan felt his way, going further and further, vaguely catching a faint scent that he couldn’t quite describe, having never smelled it before, reminiscent of the incense in rural temples.

Finally, a faint yellow flame appeared ahead, two candle flames the size of soybeans flickering.

Zhang Fan stopped, using the dim candlelight to see clearly, two figures sitting cross-legged on a worn mat.

One was an old man, his figure hunched, skin-and-bones gleaming coldly, staring directly at Zhang Fan, seemingly observing him since entering the ancient cave.

The other was an old woman, dressed in a floral cotton jacket, with a big red flower on her head, appearing quite garish, with thick powder on her face like plaster, covering the wrinkles like a peeling wall.

These two old people, disregarding their appearance, looked like the grandparents who danced in Zhang Fan’s community square, ordinary and even lacking any hint of spirit monsters and ghosts, not appearing as cultivators.

Yet, Zhang Fan knew the more it seemed this way, the deeper their Dao Practice.

In the ordinary, the faint light is eternal.

In the mundane places, the flying dust is endless.

Perhaps cultivation is about progressing from ordinary to extraordinary, then returning from extraordinary to ordinary.

Rumble...

Suddenly, a thunderous sound echoed behind the two elderly figures.

Zhang Fan raised his eyes and discovered that behind them stood two large jars, sealed with yellow mud and each covered with a yellowed talisman, looking quite aged.

"Demon Refining Body!?" Zhang Fan’s heart stirred.

Spirit monsters seize human bodies, becoming demonic ghosts, yet their true form remains their greatest support and also their greatest weakness.

Just like Old Yu years ago, in the Shu Region, his carp form was destroyed by Qingcheng Mountain’s expert, making his cultivation stagnate.

For this reason, there exists a Daoist Skill among demonic ghosts, refining the demon body until it’s like alchemy in a furnace or forging a sword in fire, ultimately transforming again within body acupoints.

Such a process is mysterious beyond ordinary perception.

Thinking this, Zhang Fan couldn’t help but look a few more times; if he guessed right, those two large jars should be these two old demons’ real bodies...

Two yellow-skinned rats.

"Young man, seen enough?"

Just then, that old hoarse voice pulled Zhang Fan’s thoughts back.

He lowered his head to see the skinny old man staring straight at him.

"I lost composure... became abnormal!" Zhang Fan chuckled awkwardly.

"Don’t be too harsh on the young..."

The old woman murmured softly, but her gaze was somewhat dazed as she looked at Zhang Fan.

"You resemble him so much."

"Who?" Zhang Fan asked, puzzled.

"Three Corpses Daoist!" the old man said solemnly.

He gazed at Zhang Fan, his eyes seeming to carry a hint of recollection, his expression becoming increasingly unnatural.

"Have you two met Three Corpses Daoist?" Zhang Fan couldn’t help but ask.

Upon reflection, spirit monsters’ cultivation surpasses human years immensely, as their transformation into demon requires a long time.

"Back then, we had not yet become demons..." the old woman murmured.

Her name was Huang Qiaoniang, and the old man beside her was called Huang Shulang.

Many years ago, they were merely two ordinary yellow-skinned rats in the Hundred Thousand Mountains, wandering among the hills, roaming the caves, living carefree lives.

Until one day...

"Until one day, that man arrived..." the old woman’s eyes carried a recollective look.

"That man had such a grand demeanor... He was alone, came alone, and stirred the entire Hundred Thousand Mountains." the old man marveled.

Even as time flowed like water, even as years flew by, he still remembered the spectacle back then.

In the Hundred Thousand Mountains, ancient caves of spirit monsters and ghosts gathered in unison, as if facing a great enemy, as if visiting Immortal Gods, all because that man set foot in this desolate place.