Even after twenty years, the familiar silhouette of Yongzhou City against the horizon had changed little, its outline a memory etched into the land itself.
Its towering, battle scarred walls still loomed with the same imposing, steadfast presence as before, a testament to enduring stone and stubborn will. Yet, as Su Min descended from the sky and passed through its gates, she could sense the subtle differences humming just beneath the surface, a new energy thrumming through the old stones. The buildings within were taller now, their architecture more ambitious, reaching upward like hopes that had once been stifled but were now quietly flourishing. There was a new, confident grandeur to the place, a bolder spirit woven into the very fabric of its bustling streets, in the louder calls of merchants and the quicker pace of the crowd. Still, beneath the steady, vibrant pulse of the city, a faint and almost imperceptible spiritual thread tugged at the edges of her awareness, a silken line of connection she could not ignore.
"Is this… the resonance of incense offering?" she murmured to herself, pausing right in the middle of the crowded street where people flowed around her like a river around a stone. "A karmic connection, faint but definitely present…"
She was genuinely surprised. She had not expected this, not here, not after so long. When she had last been here all those years ago, she had not asked Prince Yong to set up any shrines or conduct any rites in her name. So why was there a dedicated stream of faith? Why were there spiritual offerings tied directly to her?
She knew that incense worship had its tangible uses in cultivation. It could help accelerate the cultivation of something like the Golden Body of the Great Sun Tathāgata, though it was not strictly necessary. The scripture itself, the Great Sun Tathāgata Sutra, was the true core, the profound foundation upon which everything was built. Anyone who practiced it with utmost diligence could eventually attain its heights. Still, the focused faith of devotees made the path smoother, acting as a spiritual catalyst that could shave years off the journey.
"Well, no point just standing around speculating," she decided, shaking her head slightly. "Let's go take a look."
She pulled a simple, unadorned robe from her spatial ring, wrapping it around herself to mask her distinctive figure and the gleam of her armor. After twenty years, it was likely very few would recognize her on sight, but it was best not to take any chances. In her experience, trouble often found her faster when familiar faces remembered who she was, and she preferred to choose her own battles.
As she approached the northern city gate, the change in the atmosphere was unmistakable, a palpable shift in the very air. The last great war had utterly broken the grasslands' military power, shattering their hordes and their ambition. No warning drums thundered from beyond the horizon anymore, and the political landscape suggested it would take generations for them to recover their former strength, if they ever could.
Moreover, with the world's spiritual energy steadily thickening, the resource poor grasslands had fallen even further behind, lacking both the concentrated population and the rare materials needed to foster powerful cultivators. The imbalance was becoming stark and permanent.
"Interesting," she mused, her spiritual sense gently brushing over the crowds like an invisible hand. "Twenty years, and the number of Body Refining cultivators has exploded. Most are still in the early stage, their foundations shaky, but it is undeniable progress." She watched a young man effortlessly lift a heavy cart that would have strained two ordinary men. "Reaching the late stage might still take them decades of hard work, yet it is something. The age of cultivation is truly dawning."
Her expert gaze swept over the bustling, vibrant streets. Years ago, finding even one such cultivator had been a notable event, a thing to be remarked upon. Now, she saw several in just a single city block. Their auras were weak and unsteady, little more than embers, but each one held a spark of promise. With her Foundation Establishment cultivation, she could glimpse their rough potential with a mere glance. Most would stagnate at the early or middle stages of Body Refining, but a rare few might defy expectations and touch the Qi Refining stage, crossing the first true threshold.
"Should I go pay the Prince of Yong a visit?" she wondered aloud, her thoughts turning to her old partner. "There should be a few ancient ruins about to surface soon, if I am remembering the game's timeline correctly…"
She fell silent for a moment, feeling the weight of her long absence settle on her shoulders. The world had shifted greatly while she slept, and she realized she had very few acquaintances left in it, a lonely thought for one who had lived so long.
"Today is the monastery's grand sermon, right?" a man nearby said excitedly to his companion, his voice cutting through her reverie. "Everyone is going! We have to bring the kids! If they can grasp even a bit of the master's teachings, they might awaken their martial potential. Once they become true warriors, their futures will be limitless!"
"Stay close to me, now!" a mother chided her children, herding them through the press of bodies. "You will not get to see the great master this clearly often!"
A monastery. A master. Su Min's brow lifted slightly in recognition, a piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
"That guy… he is here?"
It was not hard to guess who they were talking about. That monk, her old acquaintance, Hui Ming, the one she had parted ways with back in the deserts near Great Wei. They had taken different paths then: she had gone to seek elemental treasures for her breakthrough, while he had chosen his own spiritual journey. And now, by some twist of fate, they had both ended up in the same region once again, drawn together by the invisible threads of karma.
Curious, Su Min's figure flickered and vanished from the main street, moving with a speed invisible to mortal eyes, a blur that was there and then gone.
Moments later, she stood before an imposing, newly constructed temple. The faint spiritual link she had sensed earlier now pulsed with unmistakable clarity and strength, a steady, rhythmic beat that originated from within these very walls.
"These bald donkeys really go all out when they build something," she remarked, impressed despite herself as she took in the grand scale.
The temple was not just a holy site; it was a minor fortress and a cultivation center, brimming with the presence of dozens of cultivators, many of them surprisingly strong for this region. But Su Min did not hesitate. With a soft spatial shift, she stepped directly inside, bypassing the main gates and the long lines of pilgrims entirely. In an instant, she appeared in the vast main hall, where a few senior monks were peacefully welcoming pilgrims. The potent spiritual energy she had followed radiated from one of the three majestic statues enshrined at the front of the hall.
In the center stood a magnificent statue of Śākyamuni, the Tathāgata Buddha, serene and all knowing. On the left was a compassionate Guanyin, her eyes full of mercy. And on the right…
…was her.
Or rather, a stylized, slightly idealized image meant to represent her. The features were not entirely accurate, having been sculpted by artists who had only heard descriptions of her appearance, giving her a more serene and less severe expression than she knew she possessed. Even so, seeing her own likeness enshrined in a temple, with incense smoke curling around it, she felt an odd mix of amusement, pride, and profound awkwardness, a heat rising to her cheeks.
Yet the incense burned thick and fragrant, and the sincere faith within the air was palpable, a tangible force that pressed against her spiritual senses.
"Perhaps it would not hurt to draw in a little of that devotion," she thought. It was, after all, part of the unspoken agreement she had made with that monk long ago. He would spread the faith and manage the temple, and she would passively cultivate through the offerings, a perfect, symbiotic relationship. Now, with her Foundation Establishment solidified, the timing felt right to use this faith to further temper her Great Sun Tathāgata Sutra. Maybe she could even unlock a deeper layer of the technique, a hidden power waiting within the scripture.
"Amitābha. It has been a long time, Benefactor."
A familiar, calm voice rang out, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned. A monk, clad in simple saffron robes and holding a gleaming golden staff, walked toward her, his step steady and sure, his presence a pool of deep calm in the noisy hall.
"Hui Ming?" Su Min blinked, genuinely surprised to see him here in this role, looking so settled and authoritative. "What are you doing here? And you have reached Foundation Establishment… but you chose the Human path?" She clicked her tongue in mild disapproval, a familiar critical note entering her voice. "What a waste of your potential."
She studied him carefully with her spiritual sight. It was indeed the same monk she had met in the desert. His cultivation level did not surprise her; he had reached the Qi Refining stage through sheer talent and perseverance, without even using Qi Inducing Pills. But what caught her expert attention now was the faint, brilliant aura flickering deep within his body, a signature that had been hidden before, now revealed by his advancement.
"…A Ten Thousand Buddha Physique?" she murmured, her frown deepening slightly as she confirmed the rare glow.
Such a physique was incredibly rare, almost tailor made for Buddhist cultivation. It had not been visible when he was still in Qi Refining, but now that he had stepped into Foundation Establishment, its glorious presence was undeniable. While not the absolute, mythic peak of all physiques, it was certainly remarkable and placed him firmly among the elite. Among players in the game, it would have been a coveted, top tier trait. In this native world, it was a gift found in one in ten thousand cultivators, if that, a true mark of heaven's favor.
"Please, come with me to the inner hall, senior," Hui Ming said, bowing respectfully, his demeanor unchanged by her blunt assessment. "You have been in seclusion for over twenty years. I imagine there is much confusion in your heart about the changes in the world. Allow me to offer what guidance I can." He gestured around the crowded main hall where devotees were still straining for a glimpse of the statues. "And please, let us not obstruct the ongoing sermon."
"Alright," Su Min agreed, her curiosity piqued, deciding to play along for now.
She followed him into a quieter, more secluded room at the back of the temple, the noise of the crowd fading to a distant murmur. The two of them sat across from each other on simple cushions, a modest wooden table between them.
"So," Su Min began, her eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity and a hint of suspicion as she got straight to the point. "What brings you to Yongzhou, truly? The King of U'er actually let you leave his side?"
"The King passed away peacefully ten years ago," Hui Ming replied, his voice calm and even, though a shadow of old grief passed through his eyes, a brief cloud over a still lake. "With the world's spiritual energy growing denser by the day, even the harsh deserts have begun to bloom with new life. Several permanent oases have appeared, and trade routes with Great Wei have reopened and flourished." He paused, folding his hands neatly in his lap. "As for me… I came here at my master's summons."
"To spread the Dharma and build this?" Su Min asked, gesturing vaguely to indicate the temple around them.
"To protect the people, senior," he corrected gently, offering another slight bow. "After you… dealt with the steppe army, the vengeful spirits of the slain lingered. No proper rites were performed to pacify them, and the negative energy festered, growing stronger in the dark. Now, the outskirts of Yongzhou, the old battlefields, are overrun with malevolent forces and restless ghosts. They prey on travelers and nearby villages, causing fear and death."
"…Ah."
Su Min rubbed the bridge of her nose, a distinct hint of guilt creeping into her expression. In her focus on the grand battle and her subsequent seclusion, she had completely overlooked the grim, spiritual aftermath of such large scale death.