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Having reached an agreement, the village chief immediately sent Er Han to the back mountain to chisel two small pieces from the black boulder and handed them to Yu Ziqing.
Returning to their underground home with Yang, Yu Ziqing opened the cloth bundle. Inside were two irregularly shaped black stones. The fractured surfaces appeared utterly pure, devoid of any impurities, and offered no sense of extraordinary power.
Just like when practicing fists in the past, Yu Ziqing felt no power within the black aura, unable to touch it or sense it when inhaling. It was like air, only passively experienced through the disappearance of his own constraints.
Yang gazed at the black stone intently.
"When you went to practice, how big did you see it? Go ahead and tell me; saying it now isn't breaking trust."
"Pretty big, a few hundred zhang even."
"Be specific."
"It must be five or six hundred zhang, maybe even more."
Yang nodded, sighing.
"No wonder, with only the portion above ground measuring five or six hundred zhang, it's no mystery this place has such power. Such abundance above ground can only exist in a place like Jinlan Village, without causing a stir.
From now on, take one piece with you, even when not practicing. But remember to eat some Yellow Rice Cake from Jinlan Village every year.
Borrow the power of this thing temporarily for a year, and then cleanse it out using Yellow Rice Cake after a year and return it. It's nothing major, truly a genius idea by the one who crafted Yellow Rice Cake back then.
Borrowing it temporarily is fine, but if you claim such power for yourself, calamity will surely follow. Remember that."
As he spoke, Yang looked at the other items in the bundle: a sheepskin inscribed with the names of various raw materials.
"That village chief looks as if he's half-stepped into a coffin, probably has lived quite a few years, becoming rather clever with age.
He directly promised to send you Yellow Rice Cake every year, because this old thing has sharp insight. He sees what kind of person you are at a glance; would he lose on this?
Even though you're quite weak now, knowing little, he still wants to build a connection, knowing you certainly won't stay here forever; he wants to leave some incense fire, some roots.
I can offer him many trades, guide them in many things, but he refuses to intertwine with me, insisting on sealing it as a trade.
Don't underestimate him; he's both shrewd and honest, doing as he thinks right in the open, where all hearts have a measure, but friendships remain unharmed.
The materials list he gave me now bears no tricks; every needed item is precise, neither more nor less. This is the exact formula for the Yellow Rice Cake.
The village's rules say only the village chief knows the recipe. He hasn't broken the rules now.
But you've seen firsthand where the Yellow Rice Cake comes from. You feel nothing now and that's fine. When you grow strong enough in the future, your body will remind you of the feeling.
Once I've taught you everything I can, and even what I cannot, as long as you're not too foolish, you'll figure out how to make the Yellow Rice Cake by yourself.
Doesn't he know?
He knows; he just doesn't say. Now you know as well; as long as you're a person, you must remember the kindness given."
"I understand, I'll remember," Yu Ziqing nodded earnestly.
With such unmalicious interactions, he didn't care for complex calculations. He understood simple morals: you treat me well, I treat you well.
Just like now, with Yang putting in all this effort to help him, Yu Ziqing would remember it.
It's like before when he exerted himself to help Yang; Yang said nothing at the time but also remembered.
In human interactions, some things lose meaning when spoken outright and often seem political, but practical actions speak volumes.
Yu Ziqing grasped Yang's goodwill, taking a piece of black stone and placing it in his pocket. Although not practicing, he could vaguely sense the feeling from fist practice.
"Since there are two pieces, I'll keep one for research. This thing isn't common, and such large pieces are particularly rare." Yang lifted the other piece, examining it closely.
"What exactly is this?" Yu Ziqing pondered a moment before adding, "Is it something you can talk about?"
"I can talk about it; it's not particularly secret. Similar things are collectively referred to as tombs.
They're the remnants of past masters who ran out of lifespan or were near death, dispersing all their power to encase their True Spirits, sinking into the earth, creating their tomb in hopes of reviving after eons.
However, the outcome is usually nothing more than a mere deathbed hope.
Their tombs, over long years, undergo jade transformation underground. With changing stars and shifting lands, some gradually surface, or become shallow enough to be discovered.
Tombs generally contain strong power, for jade-transformed tombs that are discovered would have belonged to formidable masters in life.
Generally, the larger the tomb, the stronger its master was."
Yang looked at the black stone before him, a noticeable gravity in his tone.
"Eight out of ten chances, the tomb's master wasn't human. Human masters wouldn't leave behind such strange forces when jade-transforming their tombs. It's fine to borrow this to nurture yourself, but never, ever integrate its power into your core during Qi Refinement; it's extremely dangerous."
"Is there a risk of possession?" Yu Ziqing thought of it at once.
"Half the people who claimed the tomb's power for themselves and died of a sudden death did due to possession."
"Alright then..."
They say those former masters believed that after long eons, they could recover on their own; I don't think so.
Say they lay bait, wait for greedy fish to bite, and grasp a chance to return? That, I believe.
After instructing Yu Ziqing, he went to the back mountain to begin his routine martial practice.
Yang stared at the black stone for a long time before suddenly opening his mouth to swallow it.
Whirling black energy erupted from his eyes, ears, and nostrils, then returned through the open mouth.
Moments later, the filthy white wool on Yang fell like rain, revealing skin now covered with sleek, shiny black fur. His horns turned black, and his sclera darkened into green.
The shed white wool crumbled to dust, weathered by an unseen wind.
Yang lifted a hoof, tapping it lightly against a nearby stone, and a sound like clashing metals rang out, sparking fiercely.
After a moment of feeling into it, Yang opened his mouth to return the swallowed black stone. The blackness faded from his body, reverting him to a white goat, save for the retained finesse and cleanliness of his wool.
"It doesn't seem like a demon; curious and strange. But, using this to nurture oneself is indeed quite useful, just when borrowed, it's tough to return. If the secret behind Yellow Rice Cake is discovered by those old undyings from the Langya Institute, this place might not be preserved. Indeed, that village chief is adept at discerning people."
...
On a snow-covered wilderness, a Black Robbed Man rode a Black Mountain Sheep, rushing frantically. As they ran, the Black Robed Man abruptly spit a large mouthful of blood, which quickly crystallized midair, mingling with the falling snowflakes.
"I say, can you stabilize a bit? I'm not dead yet, but you're about to jostle me to death."
"Can you shut up?" The Black Mountain Sheep shouted in exasperation, speeding up even more but jolting harder.
Wisely, the Black Robed Man closed his mouth and pulled a porcelain bottle from his sleeve, popping it into his mouth without a glance. After a moment, the previously pale-robed man started to look somewhat alive.
The Black Mountain Sheep tread without a single trace, gathering all its power to race relentlessly for half a day until seeing the ruins of a village ahead, then finally slowing to a stop.
The duo slumped together inside a dirt house within the village remains.
The Black Mountain Sheep was gasping heavily, while the Black Robed Man pulled out another bottle to drink the Healing Spirit Liquid from it liberally.
"I told you to keep a low profile, but you ignored me..." The Black Robed Man sighed heavily, a cloud of grievance rising.
"Is it my fault? Yes, I knew a lot of folks have come to the Wilderness recently, but how the hell would I know that the Dean of Langya Institute himself would come to this god-forsaken place, guarded by that fiend, Mu Zhiqiu.
If I'd known earlier, I'd have stayed at least three thousand li away, definitely not giving him a chance to kill me."
Recalling the earlier encounter, the Black Mountain Sheep felt the recent string of bad luck.
They were flying along just fine when, out of nowhere, they saw a Flying Boat with the Langya Institute's Array Flag. Given trouble in the Wilderness, sending a Langya Institute team was normal, so they kept their distance upon sight.
Who would expect, Mu Zhiqiu himself was on that Flying Boat, and where Mu Zhiqiu was, surely there would be a Dean-level Dao Cultivator.
Mu Zhiqiu must've had a fit; before exchanging pleasantries, he struck with a sword when discovering them.
If he wasn't bound to protect someone on that Flying Boat, giving him the inability to stray far, their bodies would be cold by now.
Their misfortune didn't stop there. They inexplicably crossed paths with An Yue from the Daqian Jinyi Wei, once a military front-liner before moving to the Jinyi Wei, renowned as the smiling tiger.
Seeing their near-deadly disarray, he took every chance to kick them down further.
So they fought again, escaping only after a hefty price.
Resting for a bit, tending to injuries and medication, and recovering somewhat after a while, the Black Mountain Sheep rolled painfully to its feet.
"I just remembered something."
"Please don't say it. I feel we're in a slump; it's better to hurry away from the Wilderness." The Black Robed Man began whining immediately.
"I'm serious. There were rumors that one of the Deans from Langya went missing near here during the anomaly a few months ago. Later there were talks of his death, yet he was never found.
"And? What's it to us?"
"Are you dumb? Think about it; now another Dean has arrived, personally escorted by Mu Zhiqiu. Even An Yue from Daqian is wandering around the Wilderness. I suspect the news is quite true, and rumors of the Dean's death were likely just Daqian's smokescreen."
"I'm begging you, stop talking. All I want now is to leave and return; you keep this up, we'll end up truly dying out here." The Black Robed Man remained unmoved.
The Black Mountain Sheep stomped angrily, snorting hotly, but after venting, he squashed his irritation, speaking earnestly:
"Didn't you forget about that one strange matter?
A few shepherds I had were killed, but their sheep were inexplicably moved into the Jinlan Mine, with the scene hastily and roughly cleaned.
Connect all these dots and sparse out the details. Haven't you figured out anything?"
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