The opponent refused to engage Lu Zheng in close combat and, upon falling slightly behind, swiftly retreated, decisively withdrawing.
Lu Zheng lightly tapped the water’s surface, his figure leaping upward. The old turtle swam beneath him, catching him on its back.
“Fellow Lu, your cultivation is profound, and your swordsmanship is intricate and marvelous. I’m impressed,” the turtle said.
“You’re too kind, Fellow Turtle. May I ask what kind of force Panshui Cave is?” Lu Zheng inquired.
After the recent skirmish, where the opponent escaped and left ambiguous words—whether a threat or not—Lu Zheng needed clarity.
“Panshui Cave is a cultivation sect with a long history, revering the ancient Rain Master as their founder, long established in eastern Sichuan,” the turtle explained. “Later, one of their ancestors left the cave, accepted an invitation from the previous dynasty, and became its state preceptor.”
Lu Zheng rubbed his chin. “That doesn’t seem like a big deal, does it?”
It was normal for cultivation sects to cooperate with the court. Baiyun Temple shared incense qi with the dynasty, and some disciples served in the Anomaly Suppression Division, as long as they weren’t fully bound to it.
“The issue is that the ancestor took a prince of the previous dynasty as a disciple, who later became the master of Panshui Cave,” the turtle continued. “When the previous dynasty fell and Great Jing rose, Panshui Cave didn’t stay neutral. They got involved in the dynastic shift. After Emperor Jing ascended, he ordered the sect’s eradication. Since then, Panshui Cave vanished from the world.”
“Oh… that explains it,” Lu Zheng mused, rubbing his chin. No wonder, he thought, many sects retreating to southern Xinjiang likely faced similar circumstances.
After a moment’s thought, Lu Zheng relaxed. “So, Panshui Cave withdrew to southern Xinjiang? Are they sending disciples to stir trouble now?”
The turtle shook its head. “No, Panshui Cave, with its ancient heritage, possesses its own blessed grotto. After Great Jing was founded, they sealed their grotto and vanished from the world.”
Lu Zheng blinked. “Then that person just now…”
“Panshui Cave naturally left portals for their disciples to come and go,” the turtle said matter-of-factly.
Lu Zheng was speechless.
“Didn’t Great Jing send people to wipe them out?” he asked curiously.
With Great Jing’s many experts, if they were determined, they could track Panshui Cave’s disciples and find their grotto.
The turtle shook its head. “Panshui Cave isn’t an evil sect. With many ancestors in their grotto and the gate sealed, Great Jing didn’t press further. It’s an unspoken agreement. Their disciples can’t openly operate in Great Jing’s territory, but if Great Jing faces trouble, Panshui Cave won’t hesitate to lend a hand.”
Lu Zheng frowned. “Even if it means increasing rainfall and causing suffering for the people?”
The turtle fell silent, then said, “That’s a bit much. I’ll report it to the River God.”
Lu Zheng nodded, realizing that not all sects in the Central Plains were necessarily at odds with Great Jing.
Also…
Panshui Cave had its own blessed grotto? Impressive!
So far, Lu Zheng knew Baiyun Temple’s back mountain held a grotto. He wasn’t sure about Jinhua Sect, but Dingfeng Mountain in southern Xinjiang definitely lacked one.
Grotti, blessed lands, secret realms.
Secret realms were the smallest, like Jiming Temple’s, just a hill spanning a few miles.
Large secret realms ranged from twenty to fifty miles in diameter.
Blessed lands typically spanned fifty to a hundred miles.
Anything over two hundred miles was a grotto, practically a small world.
For convenience, people often called them all grotti, so outsiders didn’t know which level Panshui Cave’s was.
The Netherworld didn’t count, formed from countless yin and nether soils, nearly as vast as the mortal world.
Baiyun Temple’s Baiyun Grotto, its greatest asset, was reserved for ancestors and core disciples. It was said to be filled with spiritual herbs, a cultivation treasure. Lu Zheng hadn’t entered but hoped to see it someday.
Famous grotti and blessed lands in Great Jing’s Central Plains were held by major sects, all ancient powers. No unclaimed ones existed.
Or rather, any discovered were quickly claimed.
“So, Fellow Lu, rest assured. Panshui Cave may be at odds with Great Jing but won’t provoke other sects. As a Baiyun Temple disciple, he won’t trouble you again,” the turtle said.
Lu Zheng thanked him. “I see. Thank you for the explanation, Fellow Turtle.”
“You’re too kind, Master Lu!”
Liu Qingyan and the others listened to the gossip about Great Jing and Panshui Cave, their eyes gleaming with fascination.
As they spoke, the turtle swam upstream, soon reaching a shallow beach.
It climbed ashore and lowered itself.
“Fellow Lu, Dr. Liu, this is Junzhou in eastern Sichuan. Twenty miles north is Yuejiang County’s city,” the turtle said.
“Thank you, Fellow Turtle, for saving us at least five days,” Lu Zheng said, clasping his hands in gratitude.
“You’re too kind, Fellow Lu. Dr. Liu’s compassionate healing is remarkable. I only carried you a distance, hardly worth mentioning.”
After everyone disembarked, the turtle retreated a few steps, sank into the Yuejin River, and vanished.
Du Yueyao, her maid Yulan, and the two guards stared at the river, feeling their horizons broadened, as if in a dream.
“Twenty miles, quite a walk,” Lu Zheng nodded, forming a hand seal to cast a Swift Travel Charm on everyone. “Let’s go!”
…
Arriving at Yuejiang County’s city, they found order largely restored.
The group booked a stay at an inn, learning that eastern Sichuan still faced plague outbreaks and lingering floods. They decided to stay the night and set out the next day.
The next morning, they purchased supplies in the city and left.
…
The mountain path was treacherous.
“No wonder eastern Sichuan still hasn’t recovered after two months. With so many mountains and rivers, heavy rain, and landslides, it’s incredibly dangerous,” Du Yueyao said, watching a waterfall cascade down a cliff. What should have been a mountain stream roared like a mighty river.
“I heard ten days ago a physician went to Wushi Village and hasn’t been heard from since,” Liu Qingyan said. “The river likely cut off their way out.”
“Probably,” Lu Zheng agreed. “If so, Wushi Village has likely been isolated for ten days.”
Lu Zheng reached out, lifting Du Yueyao and the others, then glided over the stream.
Liu Qingyan and the Wuxiu Manor women crossed effortlessly on their own.
