To the west of Bamboo Forest Village, there was a barren land.
Weeds grew rampant here, and whenever the wind blew, the wild grass rustled.
Fang Hong wore a clean and tidy black robe, with the square cloth bag he had obtained from the mountains tied around his waist.
Since becoming a Cultivator, Fang Hong's transformation had been quite significant.
Once frail and weak, his appearance and temperament were now completely new; his face had a healthier flush, and his physique had become much stronger.
At this moment, Fang Hong stood before a simple grave, where his closest grandfather was buried.
He knew clearly that after this long journey, it would likely be difficult for him to return to this village where he had lived for many years.
Therefore, this was his last time paying respects to his grandfather.
Fang Hong slowly squatted down and burned the paper money he had brought, one by one, for his grandfather, then picked up the wine pot and poured some fine wine onto the ground.
His eyes were filled with nostalgia as he respectfully paid homage to the grave several times.
After completing the ritual, he stood quietly for a while longer, gazed at the grave, then turned and left without looking back.
Having embarked on the path of Cultivation, he was no longer a Mortal; seeking immortality and the Dao was the path he would now follow…
After leaving Bamboo Forest Village, Fang Hong followed the direction recorded in the travelogue, planning to journey northward, with his destination being the capital of the Qin Kingdom.
As the most prosperous place in the Qin Kingdom, the capital surely had many Cultivators, and he might be able to find the Cultivation Technique and other cultivation resources he needed.
Fang Hong walked along the rugged path, employing the Wind Control Technique.
He moved as if wind-borne, a light leap would propel his body several tens of feet away.
The Wind Control Technique, as a low-level Spell, was often used by low-level Cultivators for long-distance travel.
Although it couldn't compare to the truly graceful and free flight on a Magical Artifact, at least it consumed less magical power.
Fang Hong currently had no flying Magical Artifact, so he could only travel in this manner.
During his journey, when Fang Hong got hungry, he would take out some pre-prepared dry rations from his square cloth bag, sit by the roadside, and eat unhurriedly.
These dry rations were carefully prepared before his departure; food was essential when traveling.
At night, if he passed by a small village or a temple, he would go there to ask for a night's lodging…
Thus, ten days passed.
On this day, Fang Hong was traveling when suddenly, five horsemen charged out from a steep slope not far away!
The five men laughed wildly, approaching menacingly, with swords and sabers strapped to their backs; the thunderous hoofbeats quickly brought them to Fang Hong's side, surrounding him.
Fang Hong's eyes scanned the five men, his brows furrowing slightly, and he immediately understood that he had likely encountered local bandits.
The avarice and ferocity in the bandits' eyes showed they were not to be trifled with.
"Big Brother, it's just a young lad, probably doesn't have much money on him." One square-faced bandit shook his head and laughed, a trace of disdain on his lips, not taking Fang Hong seriously at all.
"Boy, hand over the cloth bag on your waist, and I'll spare your life!" The bandit leader, a burly man with a scar on his face and two large sabers on his back, said fiercely to Fang Hong.
Fang Hong's expression was as calm as water, without the slightest panic.
He slowly drew the flying dart Magical Artifact from his waist, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, then tossed it into the air.
"Whoosh!"
The flying dart spun rapidly in the air, and in an instant, it pierced through the heads of the five bandits.
The five bandits didn't even have time to scream; their eyes wide, faces filled with terror, their bodies fell heavily from their horses, dying with their eyes open!
The five horses were startled, let out a whinny, and began to flee.
Fang Hong was quick; he rushed forward in a single stride, grabbed the reins of one of the horses, and gently soothed it, causing the horse to gradually calm down.
With this horse for travel, it would be much easier.
"Mere Mortals…" Fang Hong shook his head.
He began to search the five men, and soon, he found some silver coins, which could be used in the secular world.
Then, he skillfully put the five bodies into the demon gourd.
Having done all this, Fang Hong mounted the fast horse and rode away, leaving behind only a cloud of dust…
A month later, Fang Hong, riding his horse, arrived before a series of towering mountain ranges.
These mountains, two to three thousand zhang high, were shrouded in mist and densely forested, stretching endlessly from east to west.
According to the travelogue, Fang Hong learned that this mountain was called "Qingxia Mountain."
Compared to his hometown's Baiyun Mountain, Qingxia Mountain was even more majestic and grand.
Moreover, Fang Hong also knew that there were demonic beasts present in this mountain.
When wild beasts learned to perceive Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi, they became demonic beasts, and their strength was no less than that of Cultivators.
Fang Hong sat on his horse, pondered for a moment, and an idea popped into his mind: what would be the effect of feeding a demonic beast to the demon gourd?
Subsequently, Fang Hong rode his horse towards the foot of the mountain.
From afar, he saw a small town nestled at the base of the mountain.
In the time it takes to eat a meal, Fang Hong arrived at the small town at the foot of the mountain, named "Qingxia Town."
Qingxia Town was much more prosperous than his hometown, Bamboo Forest Village.
Pavilions and tiled houses stood in neat rows, various shops lined both sides of the street, selling groceries, food, and more; people came and went, making it exceptionally lively.
Fang Hong rode his horse, strolling through the streets, curiously observing his surroundings.
He noticed that most of the residents here were Mortals; he only occasionally encountered a Cultivator, and they were all low-level Qi Refinement Stage Cultivators.
As he wandered, Fang Hong arrived in front of a two-story pavilion, with the words "Qingxia Talisman Hall" written on the plaque.
Judging by the name, it seemed to be related to Cultivators, and Fang Hong felt a slight interest, stopping involuntarily…