Chapter 76 (Patreon)

It was night time when the river brought Chen Haoran and Phelps back to the boat and gently placed them on its deck. A sharp look from Chen Haoran had the few sailors on night duty scatter away to hidden places, leaving him alone for the time being. A quick application of qi wicked away the water on him and Phelps and he marveled the new feeling of fullness throughout his meridians.

Each Layer of the Qi realm required qi to be accumulated to a certain extent before one could break through the ceiling to the next Layer. Each successive advancement made the one before it feel small and always provided a cultivator with the feeling that they could keep improving. This feeling was perhaps the foundational motivation behind this world’s obsession with advancement next to the powers and authority a high cultivation provided.

When Chen Haoran broke through to the Ninth-Layer he felt for himself just how much more room he had within himself to fill with qi before he could challenge the Liquid Meridian Realm. Now he felt full to bursting. He had guessed cultivating in the Machu would provide him a benefit to his cultivation, just not so drastic. It was clear the river had deliberately assisted him. The yellow qi had just come on too suddenly for it to have been drawn by his efforts.

“Thank you,” he said, letting his gratefulness be carried to the tendril of water through a dragon’s roar. He had saved potentially months of time with its help.

Phelps squealed at the tendril and floated to tap it with his claws when it drew closer. The sloth had enjoyed every minute of their wild ride.

He summoned a bushel of Pure Water Monk Flowers to his hand and after thinking about it reached into his storage bag for a vine of the plant he’d taken from the Spa Cavern. Tying the flowers into an ugly bouquet he presented it to the river. The tendril swayed forward and tenderly wrapped around the delicate stalks of the luminescent flowers. It waved the bouquet around in the air before as the flowers absorbed the yellow water and began to glow gold.

Chen Haoran smiled. For a destructive force of nature, it was surprisingly cute.

He spurred the yellow dragon to roar. ‘Leaving.’

The tendril froze. A visible shudder of water rose from its base all the way to the tip like the fur of a startled cat.

He tensed when the tendril dropped the bouquet and wrapped itself around him. He tapped his sword even as he spurred the yellow dragon to roar again. ‘Going away.’

The tendril gently squeezed him and he could practically hear the river’s question through the water. ‘Why?’

It was a good question. Cultivating in the river was an incredible opportunity, not just for reaching Liquid Meridian but for Harmonizing with the Yellow River Dragon technique as well. There wasn’t that much danger to fear from the river either, at the very least it could be reasoned with and even though it was infinitely stronger than him it didn’t immediately try to force him to stay. The Machu river bringing him treasures, summoning its waters to wash away anyone who tried to hurt him. It was an intoxicating thought… but was it enough.

‘Enemies,’ he said.

Shen Jianyu simply appearing in Clearsprings City frightened Song Yuelin enough to vacate the province entirely and he was only the Thirteenth Prince. That meant there were at least 12 others and the Emperor above them. What were they like? The masters of the Empire that Lan Fen and Song Yuelin feared. That even the mysterious Chen family had to be wary of. Here he was in the center of their power. Was it really wise to risk attracting their attention? Especially once word got around about his connection to the Machu. From what Old Jiang said the Empire’s entire department of people dedicated to communing with the Machu river didn’t get as much positive communication as he did. If he stayed near here word would spread. Could the river protect him from the Imperial family? It wasn’t like he could live in the river.

The tendril shuddered… was the river sighing? It unwound itself like some massive snake and swayed in the air.

“I’ll come again,” Chen Haoran promised. “I’ll bring better gifts.”

The river shined with golden light, banishing away the night. The glow swept up the tendril in waves and concentrated at its tip. A flick saw a golden droplet detach itself from the tendril and accurately strike Chen Haoran’s forehead before he could react. The tendril immediately collapsed back into the river.

Chen Haoran felt the droplet touch his head and be absorbed by his body. He cycled his qi to isolate it but as soon as the golden droplet entered his meridians it merged with his qi and disappeared. He fruitlessly scanned every inch of his meridians for any sign of it, standing so still that Phelps came over to nudge his leg with a whimper. He finally gave up after seeing no change but he was left with a sinking feeling in his gut. The river should look fondly on him and wouldn’t deliberately hurt him, but that didn’t mean he could go and have complete faith in everything it did.

He looked down at the now calm river, unresponsive to every dragon roar he released.

It was a good thing he told Xie Jin to keep his cup ready.

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The river didn’t show itself again no matter how many times he tried to communicate with it after that and Chen Haoran finally gave it up as a bad deal once they arrived at the bustling port of White Ridge. Old Jiang informed in that the river never showed itself near populated areas. Indeed, any such appearances were considered to be ill-omens and the Ministry of Rites always made sure to conduct their major ceremonies to the river far away from any human settlement.

The city of White Ridge made for a spectacular sight easily five times the size of Clearsprings City. Carved into the side of a glittering mesa of white stone and divided into several rings of walls that started at the riverfront and rose to end at a single fortress that sat atop the mesa looking down upon the Machu it would inspire awe in any if it weren’t for the shadows cast over it. Set in front of the city and towering above even the mesa were five rounded columns of stone that curled inward as if they were massive fingers about to close over the entire city.

“Wait…” Chen Haoran cycled qi to his eyes to better observe the columns. “Are those actually fingers?”

“Yes,” Xie Jin grimly answered. He spat over the side of the ship. “The hand of the Mountain General. A Star Core realm.”

Phelps squealed loudly but whether it was from excitement or fear he couldn’t tell.

Chen Haoran shuddered as their ferry joined the long line of ships that waited to dock at the harbors that stretched like webbing between the colossal fingers. After an hour of waiting and customs inspection, they finally pulled into a wharf directly next to the middle finger.

“Welcome to White Ridge young lords,” Old Jiang said with a gold-toothed smile. “Second biggest city in the Empire and its biggest shipping center. Only the Imperial Capital dwarfs it in size.”

“Because they wouldn’t accept anything else,” Xie Jin muttered.

Chen Haoran clasped his hands and bowed. “Thank you for your company Old Jiang, I’ve learned a lot from you.”

“Please don’t bow to this old water dog young lord Chen.” Old Jiang pulled Chen Haoran back up and placed a sack that chimed with the sound of taels into his hand. “This is your payment.”

Chen Haoran didn’t make a fuss and accepted it. There was no need to be stubborn about certain things.

Old Jiang looked over at the passengers readying to disembark and leaned in to whisper. “If you’re trying to avoid attention I recommend leaving soon. This group will start running their mouths about this trip as soon as there are ears to listen.”

“We weren’t planning on staying here long anyway,” Xie Jin cut in. He looked at Chen Haoran. “If it’s alright with you I want to leave as soon as possible.”

“Let me just make sure Phelps drinks something and then we’ll go.” Chen Haoran left Xie Jin with Old Jiang and brought Phelps with him to the side of the ship where he grabbed the bucket and rope he’d requisitioned from the crew and lowered it into the river. He wouldn’t be returning to the Machu any time soon and wouldn’t get another chance like this. He hoisted up the bucket of crystal yellow water and placed it in front of Phelps who greedily lapped it up.

Received Hundred-Fold: Pure Yellow Dragon Water

He had been a bit wary at first of letting Phelps drink sentient water but if it was apparently normal to do he wouldn’t, and didn’t over the journey, avoid taking advantage of it.

After Phelps had been suitably satiated he pulled the sloth up onto his back and bid Old Jiang farewell with an impatient Xie Jin.

“Until we meet again young lord Chen, a friend of the river can always ride my boat for free,” Old Jiang said, bowing to him.

“Take care then,” Chen Haoran said, before turning and taking his first step on dry land in over a week.

He cast one last look at the river and had his yellow dragon let out one final roar.

‘Goodbye.’

The water did not move. Disappointed Chen Haoran turned to leave when he heard a splash. He whirled around to find a small tendril of water rising out of the river and wave.

“Brother Chen,” Xie Jin called. “Are you coming?”

“I am,” he replied.

When he turned around again the tendril disappeared. Shaking his head with a smile Chen Haoran followed Xie Jin into White Ridge City.