Chapter 564 – Elder Ping’an Sails West, the Ancient Hall Reveals the Human Seed Fruit - Part 2

“Auntie Yao! Auntie Yao!” Ping’an flew rapidly through the air, scanning his surroundings with sharp focus.

If Yao Jue hadn’t left him a note telling him to wait a day, he might’ve assumed something had gone terribly wrong.

Even so, he couldn’t help searching.

He didn’t need to look long.

By dusk, a familiar figure in silver robes approached from afar, smiling as she came.

Ping’an let out a breath of relief, but then composed himself and said seriously, “Auntie Yao, things aren’t like they used to be. Our identities are sensitive now. I understand you still feel tied to your homeland, that you want—”

Before he could finish, a crow fluttered out from behind Yao Jue, landed on her shoulder, and stared at him with a tilt of its head.

Then it said, “That tone...he really has grown up.”

“...” Ping’an froze. He’d become an elder now, burdened with responsibility. He’d meant to scold Yao Jue a little. She was always too bold, always pulling strange stunts. But the moment he saw that crow, all words left him.

His eyes didn’t redden; he was too old for that now.

But after a long, motionless pause, his lips moved ever so slightly, then lifted into a quiet smile.

A laugh escaped his mouth.

Yao Jue laughed along with him.

The crow fluttered onto Ping’an’s head and smacked him with a wing.

“No more tears, huh? That’s progress.

Caw, caw!

”

If it were 34 years ago, Ping’an would’ve snapped back with righteous indignation, refusing to be teased so easily. But now, he only smiled with quiet acceptance, letting his big sister poke fun at him.

And the more he smiled, the happier he seemed. Yet strangely, his smile no longer felt like a sign of pure joy.

There was too much buried inside that smile. Memories. Longing. Regret. Relief...

But then came a single sentence that swept all those complicated emotions into one, and turned them into overwhelming joy.

“Cry-baby, our dad didn’t die. He faked his death so he could send you, Third Mom, Fourth Mom, Auntie Yao, and your whole family to the Eastern Sea’s Immortal Domain.”

Ping’an’s head snapped up in disbelief. Then pure, blinding elation burst across his face. He turned instantly to the sparrow on the other side, eyes blazing with hope.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, all doubt vanished.

“Father!” His voice cracked with emotion, sounding nothing like a solemn elder.

Unfortunately, the sparrow couldn’t talk. It just gave a solemn little nod and chirped softly.

Then the crow began explaining everything, what had really happened back then and how the situation had played out.

In the past, Ping’an might’ve understood only a fraction of it.

But now, he grasped it all.

And the more he thought about it, the more respect he felt for his father.

To lie low in silence, to plan so deeply, to throw oneself into death’s mouth in order to ensure life could flourish elsewhere, only someone like his father could’ve done that.

And then, as always, came the beloved family tradition, the great sibling showdown. Except this time, it wasn’t Ping’an, once notorious for bragging, who started it.

It was Sheng'er, who smacked his head with a wing and asked sweetly, “So, Little Bro, what rank are you now?”

“Third rank,” Ping’an answered seriously.

“And what sub-realm?”

“Just the first.”

“Eh, your big sister only has five second stage Heaven Soul avatars these days. I’m really slipping...” She sighed dramatically, then added, “Back in my prime, I had 41 second stage Heaven Soul clones. I fought the Human Emperor for 35 rounds by the Eternal Rest River, and only lost by a hair!”

Ping’an chuckled. “Big Sis, you’re incredible. I wouldn’t dare compare.”

The crow immediately lost interest and began smacking his head again with its wings.

“What the heck happened to you? What did you go through to turn into this calm old stick?”

Ping’an grinned. “Nothing much. Just some little things, really. Haha.”

The crow crossed its wings at the sides of its body like hands on hips and glared at him.

“Tell me the truth! Are you really my little brother? Or did some ancient monster take over his body?!”

Ping’an only laughed harder.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Midnight.

The flying ship departed, carrying the newest group of warriors back to the Eastern Sea.

Months later, just as the flying ship approached the Immortal Domain’s aerial harbor, the clouds ahead suddenly roiled like a tsunami, sweeping upward thousands of feet, howling across the heavens. The spiritual energy surged like a tide, crashing in waves that swept out into the distance.

Everyone aboard froze in shock.

Moments later, vast plumes of violet mist surged across the eastern sky, painting half the heavens purple.

Something extraordinary was rising behind that curtain of light. It felt like a leviathan rising from the deep, like a secret stepping out from behind the stage, like a meteor hurtling toward the world.

It hadn’t arrived yet but the sheer pressure of it made everything nearby twist and thrash violently in the air. Yet the flying ship was still far, far away.

And in the next moment, all they heard was a distant, exaggerated boom. And the violet mist vanished as if it had never been there.

The sky, which had just been clear and bright, suddenly turned pitch-black. Nothing could be seen at all.

Half the sky went completely dark, while the area around the flying ship remained brightly lit.

Everyone on board began murmuring, trying to make sense of what they’d just witnessed. But no one could say for sure what had happened, so naturally, all eyes turned to the one man they trusted for answers, Ping’an.

Ping’an shook his head solemnly. But after a moment, as if something had occurred to him, he said calmly, “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Because by now, he’d already guessed what it was.

In truth, he wasn’t the only one. Several of the disciples aboard the flying ship had already caught on as well.

What had happened wasn’t exactly a tightly kept secret among the sects in the Immortal Domain, many sect leaders had chosen not to hide it.

Once the spiritual energy of a region became sufficiently saturated, three ancient halls would begin to appear.

The emergence of the ancient halls, this was something the world hadn’t seen in 30,000 years.

At that very moment, Li Yuan was lying low inside the Empress Dowager Xie’s palace. But the moment he sensed the little crow calling him from afar, his form shimmered, transforming into a tiny insect and flitting away toward the distant mountains.

“Papa! The ancient halls have appeared!” the crow called out.

Li Yuan froze, a rare flash of joy lighting up his usually stoic expression.

Ping’an had already told him about the ancient halls through the little crow, so he wasn’t entirely unprepared.

But what truly pleased him now was this. He hadn’t been cut off from this event.

That meant he could continue to see and hear everything from afar. He could monitor the Eastern Sea through Sheng'er’s senses.

As for the ancient halls? If they brought fortune, there was no need to avoid them. If they brought calamity, he couldn’t dodge them anyway.

And so began a months-long live broadcast from the little crow to Li Yuan, delivered in choppy bursts, sometimes rapid-fire, sometimes with long gaps in between.

“Papa, the ancient halls seem like something that’s always been hiding behind the curtain of the world. Once there’s enough spiritual energy, they emerge like ghosts from the mist.”

“But you can’t get too close. Anyone below the third rank gets sucked into this black pit that opened near the entrance”

“The appearance of the ancient halls is breaking the surrounding space. That broken space has a terrifying gravitational pull.”

“Oh no! Someone just got dragged in! Good thing Ping’an grabbed him in time.”

Li Yuan asked, “Sheng'er, are there monsters in that black hole?”

“Haven’t seen anything crawl out of it...yet.”

“Anyway, Ping’an told me to stay indoors. Apparently the sect leaders are sending his clones to probe the ancient halls first.”

“Hmph. Can’t they go check it out themselves?”

A while later.

“Papa, Ping’an’s back, but he’s really badly hurt. I asked him, wasn’t it just a clone? But he said the damage was so severe, it backlashed into his soul.”

“The hall master gave him some celestial herbs to help recover.”

“Ooh, I’m just going to try one bite, just a teeny bite...”

“Waaah, it’s delicious!”

“Papa, I can’t even describe how good this is. The taste, it’s smooth and sweet, like drinking a whole mouthful of honeyed spring water. I swear I can feel myself getting stronger.”

“Ping’an said it’s called a

Clearwarm Spring Herb

. It nourishes the soul. Eating it feels like soaking your very spirit in a hot spring. It’s worth, wait for it, one mid-grade Heavenly Fire Spirit Stone or Earth Fog Spirit Stone.”

“Those Heavenly Fire Spirit Stones? That’s the same kind that came out of the the third rank meat field back in Gemhill County.”

“And the yield from that place was pitiful. Took ten years just to produce 476 stones!”

“You ate it, what about Ping’an?” Li Yuan asked, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“Oh, Ping’an said he’s fine. Just needs a nap and he’ll be good as new.”

“Papa, really, he’s fine.”

“Ahhh! He’s awake now.”

“Ask him what happened inside the ancient hall,” Li Yuan said.

“Ping’an said he died the moment he entered. All he saw was blinding white light, and then he was killed by some overwhelming brute force. He said a punch came flying out of nowhere and smashed him into dust. Not a single part of his body was left intact.”

“So weak! If it were me instead? Hmph...well, same result!”

“It was brute force that killed him?” Li Yuan muttered to himself, then turned to the little crow beside him. “Which ancient hall was it? The Hall of Life, Solar Yang, or Lunar Yin?”

“No idea, Papa. Even the appearance of the ancient halls is something that only exists in ancient texts from thirty thousand years ago. No one’s actually seen one.”

The little crow was relaying information in real-time, the soul-to-soul transmission so absurdly fast it seemed instantaneous. It reminded Li Yuan of

quantum entanglement

, a concept he vaguely remembered from before his transmigration.

A moment later, the crow continued.

“But there are records in those ancient books that say each of the three ancient halls houses a supreme treasure.

“The Hall of Life contains a treasure for cultivating the human soul. It’s called the

Human Seed Fruit

. Only one appears per Dao Epoch.

“They say whoever eats it can cultivate anything in the Human Soul path with complete freedom. And not just that, any skill or technique they learn instantly reaches full mastery. They might even forge entirely new, terrifying powers of their own.”

“Huh...?” Li Yuan felt a sense of deja vu. Then shock gradually surfaced in his eyes.

The little crow saw her father’s stunned expression, feeling it was only natural, and continued cackling away.

“In other words, even if someone just flails around randomly, if it accidentally aligns with some Human Soul skill, that’s considered

learning it

. And once learned. BOOM! Instantly mastered! If someone gets their hands on that Human Seed Fruit... they’d be unstoppable.”

Li Yuan finally regained his senses and waved a hand dismissively. “Sounds like a tall tale. There’s no way it’s

that

powerful.”

“Papa! You’re just being sour grapes because we can’t get one! That’s a

Human Seed Fruit

, okay?! Only one appears in an entire Dao Epoch, it

has

to be that amazing!”

Li Yuan changed the subject. “What’s a Dao Epoch?”

The crow explained, “It’s the entire lifespan of a world, from birth to destruction. Ping’an said that’s what the ancient books call it. Not my idea!”

“What book?”

The crow shook its head. “Ping’an said he doesn’t know either. Probably something the higher-ups keep locked away.”

Li Yuan pressed on, “What about the Halls of Solar Yang and Lunar Yin? Do they each have one of these magical fruits too?”

The little crow blinked, then chirped uncertainly, “Yeah... I think so?”

“...” Li Yuan fell silent. Then he narrowed his eyes slightly.

Author’s Note

Lately, I don’t know what’s going on. There’s this weird kind of mental fatigue, even though the plot outlines are all written clearly in black and white. Still, I find myself staring blankly, exhausted beyond words. It’s hard to build momentum. Creating stories really is a test of willpower...because you have to stay passionate

every single day.