Chapter 1: Fallen Leaves Return to Their Roots

The autumn wind and rain were cold and bleak, starting and stopping in fits, a thoroughly miserable affair.

Fang Qingyuan gazed into the distance. As far as he could see, the distant mountains were soaked in a fine, misty rain, their shapes blurred and indistinct.

Just then, a voice beside him pulled his thoughts back to the present:

"Immortal Master Fang, our Zhan Yuan died an innocent! The Beast Taming Sect can’t just let this matter rest."

With a stone-faced expression, Fang Qingyuan did his best to placate them:

"The Wei Family has already admitted their wrongdoing. This is the compensation they sent. I’ve looked it over; it’s enough for your clan to raise three more Qi Refining Cultivators. Furthermore, although Senior Brother Zhan Yuan is gone, his position will remain with your clan. As for who will accompany me to the villa, you can discuss it among yourselves."

As soon as he said this, the people around him stopped demanding justice from Fang Qingyuan. Instead, they began to argue over who was worthy of going to Tianshan Villa.

Listening to the crowd’s argument, Fang Qingyuan sighed, his gaze once again drifting to the distance.

After the people from Great Zhou Academy left that day, Fang Qingyuan had intended to start his money-making enterprise. But alas, things don’t always go as planned. Before he could even begin, he was being run ragged with errands.

Tianshan Villa had suddenly lost over a dozen Cultivators, including two Foundation Establishment Cultivators. The turmoil this caused would not dissipate anytime soon.

To say nothing of other matters, just arranging the funerals for these Cultivators would take a month or two.

The funeral rites for a Qi Refining Cultivator take ten to fifteen days. For a Foundation Establishment Cultivator, it’s forty-nine days. As for a Golden Core Cultivator, the period is even longer, requiring no less than ninety-nine days.

It had been almost a month. All this time, Fang Qingyuan had been rushing about, receiving guests, exchanging pleasantries, and comforting the families of the deceased Cultivators.

It wasn’t just Fang Qingyuan; none of the disciples at the villa could escape the duties.

After a long period of busyness, once the banquets for the guests from the surrounding clans had ended and the funerals were concluded, Fang Qingyuan was given another task: escorting the body of his late Senior Brother Zhan Yuan home.

’Everyone dies eventually. It’s like fallen leaves returning to their roots.’

’Senior Brother Zhan Yuan had been the prodigy of this clan, but who could have predicted he would meet with such a sudden calamity, even at the villa.’

’On that day, under Wei Tong’s Celestial Measuring Ruler, a single sweep of clear light had been enough to shatter the hopes of an entire clan.’

Growing impatient with the crowd’s squabbling, Fang Qingyuan turned, mounted his Camel-Ray, and soared into the sky, leaving only a few words behind:

"Give me an answer in three days. Otherwise, you can make your own way to Tianshan Villa."

Leaving the crowd below, Fang Qingyuan stood atop his Camel-Ray and plunged into the autumn rain.

The autumn rain didn’t let up for a moment. Fang Qingyuan sat cross-legged on his Camel-Ray, letting it frolic through the sky as it pleased.

The Camel-Ray was a Water Spirit Beast, and it loved water by nature. To it, the sky full of autumn rain was the most comfortable environment imaginable.

Rain beat down on Fang Qingyuan, but it was all blocked by his Daoist Robe. Though only a first-tier robe, it was inscribed with Wind-Shield and Sun-Warming spell formations.

Not only did they completely ward off the fine rain, but they also kept his body as warm as a spring day.

’Unfortunately, it has no real defensive power and couldn’t withstand a single blow from a Magical Artifact wielded by a Cultivator of the same level. It’s not a good Daoist Robe by any means.’

’For a truly top-grade Daoist Robe, comfort is just the most basic feature. Defensive power is the sole factor in determining its quality.’

’But a robe like that was something Fang Qingyuan could only dream of for now. Unless you were truly rich, you couldn’t possibly afford one.’

Casting aside these thoughts, Fang Qingyuan signaled the Camel-Ray beneath him to stop frolicking. He identified the direction and began to fly towards Black River Square.

The Zhan Yuan Clan was a minor family near Celestial Gate Mountain, so it wasn’t a long journey to Black River Square. After flying for just an hour, the Camel-Ray arrived.

Looking at the somewhat rustic Marketplace before him, Fang Qingyuan found a spot for his Camel Beast, then headed inside with the confidence of a regular visitor.

"Old Fan, how did the Red Lotus Fruits sell last time?"

The Cultivator inside, Old Fan, was startled by the question. He then asked in a hushed voice:

"Fang the Kid, is everything all right at Tianshan Villa? I heard you got into a fight with the Wei Family and even had to call down the Great Zhou Academy."

Fang Qingyuan cracked a grin, but it held a hint of coldness. Seeing Old Fan’s expression, he knew he had to say something.

"It was all a misunderstanding. Our two families have already reconciled. It’s best if you don’t ask too many questions about it."

Old Fan shivered, slightly frightened. After a moment to recover, he forced a smile.

"Right, right. I won’t ask. I won’t ask. Those Red Lotus Fruits from last time... they sold very well. I’m all out now. What, you got another shipment?"

Fang Qingyuan nodded and held up three fingers.

"Three hundred fruits. Can you handle the whole lot?"

Old Fan hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth.

"It’s only three hundred. They’ll be gone in five days. I’ll take them."

Seeing Old Fan agree, Fang Qingyuan laughed heartily and held out his hand.

"Spirit Stones first. Three hundred fruits for a total of seventy-five Spirit Stones."

Old Fan slapped Fang Qingyuan’s hand away and shot him a sidelong glance.

"Nice try. I’m not paying you a single Spirit Stone until I see the fruits. Where are they? Take me there."

Fang Qingyuan didn’t get angry when his hand was slapped away. He simply turned and said over his shoulder:

"They’re at the docks. You’d better call for some help. You won’t be able to carry three hundred fruits by yourself."

As Fang Qingyuan walked out, Old Fan was about to say he didn’t need help, but on second thought, he did as suggested and called for some men to follow them to the docks.

After Old Fan reluctantly handed over the seventy-five Spirit Stones, Fang Qingyuan began to calculate his profit.

These three hundred fruits had not been easy to acquire. Some time ago, Fang Qingyuan had helped a Loose Cultivator named Lao He. Later, when Zhao E Lian and Lechuan laid siege to Celestial Gate Mountain, the patrols from the Celestial Gate Mountain Marketplace had all retreated behind the main gates.

With no one watching them, Lao He and the other Loose Cultivators took the opportunity to flee. Most of them scattered to the four winds, never daring to return to Celestial Gate Mountain.

Lao He, however, had been here for nearly twenty years and couldn’t bear to abandon half a lifetime’s worth of savings. So, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and return.

Afterward, the arrival of the Great Zhou Academy completely put Lao He’s mind at ease, and he went back to setting up his stall to sell Spirit Fruits.

Lao He acted as if the recent troubles were nothing. He had seen too much over the years.

When Fang Qingyuan found him this time, Lao He didn’t hesitate. He immediately scraped together three hundred Red Lotus Fruits, not uttering a single complaint even though Fang Qingyuan only paid a deposit.

The three hundred fruits cost Fang Qingyuan fifty Spirit Stones. By reselling them, he had just pocketed a profit of twenty-five Spirit Stones. This was a huge windfall.

Suppressing his delight, he bid Old Fan farewell and returned to the Black River Square docks to solicit passengers.

’Even though I just made a big score, I can’t give up my main gig. Ferrying one Cultivator is one Spirit Stone. I can’t just pass that up.’

"To Celestial Gate Mountain! A few spots left! One Spirit Stone per person! No waiting for a full group, leaving right away! Hurry up, we’re about to depart."

Fang Qingyuan began shouting his pitch, but perhaps because of the weather, he only managed to attract a single customer after calling out for a long time.

Seeing it was getting late, Fang Qingyuan sighed in resignation. He had no choice but to take his single passenger aboard the Camel-Ray and fly toward Celestial Gate Mountain, braving the endless autumn rain.