Chapter 229: Why Hasn’t Young Master Returned Yet?

Ye Chen could’ve pulled out more treasures, but the four cultivators’ ignorance dulled his enthusiasm. Feeling uninspired, he opted for a swift end, giving them a grand send-off.

A beam of destructive divine light shot from his eyes. His heart conjured a celestial calamity ray. The Myriad Star Fire formed a blazing beast, striking with a single claw. The Western Empress Scripture’s secret technique, Passing Self Art, erupted with a deafening boom.

In the midst of the four rogue cultivators’ furious roars, it was over.

Stepping out of the array, Ye Chen resumed his leisurely journey. The final roar of one cultivator echoed in his mind: “Two top-tier Divine Abilities, a seventh-grade spiritual fire, and you’re cultivating an immortal scripture—you’re definitely a Holy Land’s Holy Son! You bastards from major sects hog all the resources, leaving us no choice but to form turbid cores, and now you play pig to eat the tiger? You deserve to die!”

Say what you will, the guy’s skills were lacking, but his guess was spot-on. Ye Chen was a Holy Son.

The last battle before his breakthrough felt bland. The cultivation world’s knowledge barriers were to blame. Major sects hoarded secrets, leaving rogue cultivators and minor sect disciples clueless. Ye Chen vowed to change that. He’d ensure everyone in the cultivation world could read, and no one would cultivate without studying first.

Speeding up, he returned to Green Cloud Sect in just two days. He planned to head straight to Sword Peak to find his master but was stopped by the old sect leader fishing by the pool at the sect’s gate.

Ye Chen marveled at the old sect leader. Ever since his master entered seclusion to form her core, and the Misty Sect—Green Cloud’s old rival—crumbled into history’s dust, the old sect leader had grown increasingly relaxed, not unlike the carefree retirees with pensions from his past life.

“How many fish have you caught, old sect leader?” Ye Chen leaned over, curious to peek into the fish basket.

The old sect leader subtly sank the basket into the pool. “You’re caught up in appearances,” he said sagely. “It may look like I’m fishing, but I’m actually comprehending the heavens and earth. Whether I catch many or few is mere illusion.”

Ye Chen nodded with an understanding look. Got it—comprehending the Dao meant no fish caught. A Golden Core cultivator waxing poetic about the heavens?

Typical fishing nonsense. When anglers landed a catch, they’d boast without prompting. When they didn’t, they’d spin some lofty excuse. It was like men in his past life: young and virile, they’d skip the chatter and sweep their lover off to bed. When the vigor faded, they’d lecture their wives with nonsense, buying time for the medicine to kick in.

“You’re back to break through to Golden Core?” the old sect leader asked, his voice carrying an air of immortal grace.

Ye Chen nodded. “I’ll visit Master and Senior Sister, then go into seclusion for the breakthrough.”

The old sect leader’s face lit up. “How confident are you of forming a high-grade Golden Core?”

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Ye Chen shook his head. “I’m not sure.”