The newly repaired iron array plates were placed back onto the stone table with a series of light metallic clicks.
“It is complete,” Elder Wu announced casually, pushing the reinforced structures toward Shen Jietian.
The old man had spent less than half the duration of a standard incense stick mending the intricate spiritual lines.
Then, as though he hadn’t just executed a feat of high-grade craftsmanship, he casually picked up the handwritten entertainment sheets once more, completely immersing himself in the text.
Shen Jietian wasn’t surprised by the behavioral display.
He knew that if someone forced Elder Wu to choose between studying profound, heaven-defying cultivation scriptures or devouring a cheap street rumor about a local merchant who accidentally sold his own primary spatial pouch, the old man would choose the gossip ledger every single time.
Turning his attention away from the hermit’s eccentricity, Shen Jietian continued organizing his personal files.
Sheets of coarse paper now covered more than half the stone surface.
There were rough geographical charts, fragments of street gossip, official witness testimonies from travelers, and minor market observations.
To ninety-nine percent of the city’s populace, these papers were nothing more than garbage to be discarded.
But within Shen Jietian’s mind, they were a series of interconnected clues.
He pulled the first sheet to the top of the pile.
Written across the headers in bold ink were the words: The Sweet Water Phenomenon.
Shen Jietian tapped his finger against the text to draw the old man’s attention.
“Elder Wu.”
“Hmm?” The old man offered a faint grunt, his eyes never wavering from the page.
“A few months ago, a minor merchant caravan guard detail passed through a specific western mountain sector,” Shen Jietian analyzed slowly.
“During their trek, they discovered a natural spring where the water tasted unusually sweet.
It was remarkably clear—so clear that the guards claimed the tea brewed from its source tasted vastly superior to standard regional blends.”
“What specific elemental variable would cause such a sudden shift in a common mountain stream?”
Elder Wu lazily waved a calloused hand through the air, entirely unbothered.
“Perhaps it is merely a natural sweet-water vein flowing beneath the rocks.
Perhaps the underground currents shifted after a minor tremor, or perhaps some traveling fool accidentally dropped a barrel of mountain honey into the basin.
The wilderness is vast; such occurrences are common.”
Shen Jietian let out a soft chuckle, making a small notation on the margin of the sheet before drawing the second paper from the stack.
The Abnormal Plant Lifecycle.
“A secondary report, Elder Wu,” Shen Jietian continued, his voice steady.
“A common herb vendor in the East Market liquidated a batch of wild berries that had been harvested in the wild more than a week prior.
Yet, when they were displayed on the counter, the fruit appeared freshly picked.
There were absolutely no signs of withering, no decay of the skin, and no loss of natural life vitality.”
Elder Wu shrugged his heavy shoulders, flipping his page.
“High-grade wood-attribute preservation techniques, unique mineral components in the local soil, or a localized pocket of spirit dew.
There are many mundane possibilities in the world, kid.”
Shen Jietian nodded slowly, logging the analysis before lifting the third sheet.
Strange Insect and Animal Behavior.
A faint smile broke across his face as he recalled the origin of the file.
The raw data had originally been harvested from Fat Sun’s tea house, where an independent beast hunter had joked loudly to his companions:
“Hey, little brothers, look at those trees!
Those birds are obviously elite disciples of some feathered sect waiting for their Grand Elder to dispense a lecture!
And those ants down in the dirt?
They are clearly lining up to take the sect’s entrance examinations.
Perhaps you fools should join the queue; they seem vastly more organized than the city’s martial halls!”
The entire tavern had roared with laughter at the theatrical tale, treating it as a standard wine-illusion.
But Shen Jietian had logged the data with immense seriousness.
The witness had described a highly unnatural phenomenon: hundreds of wild birds sitting in absolute, dead silence within the branches, all facing a single, empty woodland clearing.
Simultaneously, thousands of common ants were marching in flawless, geometric straight lines toward a solitary gray boulder.
It was not the random movement of animals searching for food; it was entirely purposeful.
Shen Jietian glanced toward the hermit.
“What would cause wild creatures to exhibit such unnatural discipline, Elder Wu?”
The old man let out a dramatic, weary sigh, lowering his text a fraction.
“Obviously, the local sparrows are holding a grand court martial because one thief stole the chief’s worm, so the entire flock must witness the judgment.
As for the ants?”
“They are clearly the emperor’s elite vanguard preparing to conquer the boulder for the glory of their nest.
If our city guards possessed even half of that internal discipline, the merchant caravans wouldn’t be constantly plagued by mountain bandits.”
Shen Jietian laughed softly.
The old man truly possessed a funny, sharp wit when he chose to indulge the conversation.
He turned to the fourth page.
Mist Beneath the Sun.
The ledger noted that a growing volume of low-level gatherers had begun altering their harvesting routes through a specific woodland sector.
It wasn’t because the new path was shorter or safer, but because the environment had become exceptionally cool.
The area remained damp, freezing, and continuously blanketed in a thick, opaque fog—even beneath the blazing heat of the midday sun.
When asked for a cause, Elder Wu sounded notably more annoyed, his finger tapping the table.
“Trees, kid.”
“Trees?”
“They grow branches.
The branches block the sunlight, creating shade and moisture.
A truly shocking, world-shaking mystery of nature, I know.”
Shen Jietian moved to the fifth page without arguing.
The Muted Sound Zone.
This particular rumor had captured his complete attention the moment it emerged from the tracking files.
A beast hunter had been chasing a spiritual rabbit through the woods.
One moment, his senses could clearly register the chirping of birds, the rustling of the wind through the canopy, and the sound of his own heavy breathing.
The very next step he took…
absolute, suffocating silence.
It was as though the concept of sound itself had been completely erased from the space.
Terrified by the sudden sensory deprivation, the hunter had fled back to the city gates in panic. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Shen Jietian looked up, his expression serious.
“Can such an unnatural phenomenon manifest without a master’s intervention?”
Elder Wu finally lowered his papers slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto the youth.
“Naturally.
The residual effects of a high-grade protective talisman, the silent aftermath of a powerful battle between Foundation Establishment masters, or a localized distortion in a formation’s boundary.
Many ordinary variables can suppress sound.”
He immediately raised the papers back over his face, clearly wishing to return to his gossip.
Shen Jietian reached for the sixth page.
The Lucky Harvest.
A massive quantity of low-grade spiritual herbs had spontaneously erupted across a completely barren, rocky hillside.
Piles of Qi Gathering Grass, Three-Year Blood Ginseng, and Spirit Dew Moss were being harvested by the basketful.
Individually, these plants were common and carried minor value, but the sudden, explosive volume of growth on a dead hill was completely absurd.
The local herbalists were currently celebrating their fortune, and several destitute families had become unexpectedly wealthy overnight.
“And what about this anomaly, Elder Wu?” Shen Jietian pressed.
The old man finally lowered the sheets completely, his face a picture of pure irritation.
“Kid, all manner of strange, erratic events manifests across the continents every single day.
Perhaps a high-grade spirit plant bloomed deep beneath the soil and released a wave of vital energy.”
“Perhaps a minor spirit vein shifted its path beneath the crust, or perhaps heaven simply decided to bless a group of starving herb gatherers.
Why exactly are you bothering my peaceful soul with every single piece of mundane street gossip you harvest from the taverns?”
Shen Jietian remained perfectly silent.
He didn’t offer a vocal defence; instead, he reached into his sleeve, retrieved the final handwritten report from the old drunkard, and placed it flat on top of the pile.
It listed the precise coordinates of the blood-red light, the tearing crack in mid-air, the violent distortion of the ambient spiritual energy, and the exact geographic location.
Elder Wu’s patience finally snapped.
“If your hands already hold enough absurd material to draft next week’s entertainment sheets, then go forge two separate editions for the market!
Do not continue feeding my ears this random information!”
Shen Jietian drew a slow, stabilizing breath.
He looked directly into the old man’s annoyed eyes and said calmly, “Elder Wu…
what if every single one of these seven anomalies occurred within the exact same square mile of the western peaks?”
The irritation instantly evaporated from the courtyard.
The old man froze mid-motion, his fingers tightening against the paper.
His eyes narrowed into two incredibly sharp slits, and for the very first time all afternoon, all traces of his lazy humor vanished.
He looked profoundly, intensely serious.
“What did you just state?” the master whispered.
Shen Jietian repeated his deduction with absolute clarity.
“Every single independent report.
The sweet water spring, the preserved vitality of the berries, the unnatural gathering of the birds, the straight lines of the ants, the persistent fog beneath the sun, the silent zone, the explosive growth of the low-grade herbs, and the drunkard’s red crack…
they all manifested within the exact same geographic boundary of the western crags.”
The entire compound fell into a deathly, ringing silence.
Even the gentle mountain breeze passing through the orchids seemed to bring its movement to a dead halt.
Elder Wu stared fixedly at the pile of reports, his eyes slowly, methodically tracking from page to page.
His entire countenance underwent a radical transformation; the lazy, gossip-loving hermit completely disappeared, replaced by a cold, calculating sharpness that Shen Jietian had only witnessed a few times before.
The old man began to track the data points aloud, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
“The sweet water…
that is high-purity spiritual spring water leaking from an ancient source into the underground streams.” His calloused finger shifted to the next sheet.
“The preserved plants…
a slow, continuous leakage of pure vitality Qi interacting with the flora.
The birds and the insects…
wild creatures are naturally drawn to density of spiritual energy; the safest coordinate for them to gather is along the absolute edge of a boundary array.”
He flipped the next page, his focus intensifying.
“The mist…
that is not a standard weather pattern; it is dense spiritual mist condensing into liquid form as a large defensive barrier begins to weaken and decay.”
“The silence…
a severely warped boundary array distorting the local space and swallowing sound waves.
The herbs…
minor spiritual energy escaping the seal, creating a perfect incubation zone for low-grade seeds.”
Finally, his gaze landed on the drunkard’s testimony.
The red light.
The tearing crack in mid-air.
The missing piece of the puzzle.
For several long seconds, neither man uttered a single syllable, the weight of the realization hanging heavily in the quiet air.
Then, both of their voices resonated simultaneously through the pavilion:
“A Secret Realm.”
The heavy words echoed off the stone walls.
Shen Jietian’s eyes widened, a sudden, powerful surge of pure adrenaline warming his chest.
His mental script was correct.
Months of backbreaking manual investigation, hundreds of separate interviews, and thousands of discarded rumors—he had successfully pierced the veil through pure logic.
He had actually located an unrecorded Secret Realm.
Meanwhile, Elder Wu sat completely motionless on his bench.
His profound shock had absolutely nothing to do with the manifestation of the Secret Realm itself; throughout his long lifespan, his eyes had witnessed dozens of ancient domains and breaking realms across the high provinces.
The old man’s focus was locked entirely on the youth sitting opposite him.
The boy was practically vibrating with quiet excitement.
And for the very first time, the old master parsed the true weight of what had just occurred.
He himself had only managed to connect the spiritual signs because Shen Jietian had spent months processing the raw noise of the city, filtering out the garbage, and placing the refined clues directly before his face.
Shen hadn’t received a complete report from a grand spy network.
He hadn’t discovered an ancient treasure map in a dead master’s cave, and he hadn’t been guided by a senior.
He had simply dug through thousands of useless street rumors and somehow extracted six separate, subtle warning signs of a decaying barrier, connecting them into a flawless operational thesis. This story is hosted at NovelPing.
That level of patience and calculation…
is nothing short of terrifying for a Qi Refinement junior, Elder Wu thought, a trace of genuine respect softening his sharp gaze.
Even his ancient, weary soul was deeply impressed by the display.
The old man looked at Shen Jietian for a long, quiet moment, then let out a slow, heavy sigh.
Destiny truly enjoyed playing practical jokes on the ambitious.
Shen Jietian’s mind was already racing ahead, calculating the boundless possibilities.
An unrecorded Secret Realm meant pristine spirit treasures, ancient cultivation opportunities, rare alchemical ingredients, and perhaps the ultimate influx of capital required to shatter his current resource bottleneck.
But before his thoughts could drift any further, Elder Wu’s heavy voice cut through his excitement like a cold blade.
“Kid.”
Shen Jietian blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
“Yes, Elder Wu?”
“An ancient Secret Realm is fundamentally not a place where someone with your meager strength can afford to play,” the old man stated coldly.
The burning excitement in Shen Jietian’s chest cooled down slightly under the warning.
He offered a composed nod.
“Do not worry, Elder Wu.
I understand the baseline risks of the wilderness.
I do not plan to charge into the domain recklessly without a plan.”
Elder Wu shook his head slowly, a grim look dominating his features.
“You still do not grasp the true politics of this world, child.” His expression grew more serious than Shen Jietian had ever seen it.
“A pristine Secret Realm spontaneously fracturing this close to Black Mist City?
The grand formation masters of the Dark Mountain Sect will register the spiritual tremors within days.
They will march their elite forces and claim absolute ownership of the boundary immediately.”
He reached out, tapping his finger against the hand-drawn map.
“According to your own geographic calculations, it rests well within their primary sphere of territorial influence.
Your smile is entirely premature, kid.”
Shen Jietian’s slight grin vanished completely.
The old man’s analysis was flawless, cutting through his capitalistic greed.
Elder Wu continued his grim lecture.
“Whenever an unrecorded Secret Realm manifests within a region, independent loose cultivators are systematically rounded up by the dominant forces to serve as nothing more than live cannon fodder.”
“They are forced at the tip of a sword to march first into the unknown tunnels to clear out the nesting monster packs, trigger the ancient trap arrays, and test the toxicity of the ancient seals.
If the domain ultimately turns out to contain nothing but a few high-grade herb valleys, that is one minor matter.
But if it contains the ruined fortresses of an ancient sect…”
The old man brought his sentence to a sudden halt, refusing to articulate the rest.
He didn’t need to finish the thought.
A cold, freezing chill slowly crawled up Shen Jietian’s spine as his mind mapped the reality.
Then, Elder Wu delivered an even harsher, more unyielding truth of the immortal path.
“Even if we calculate a scenario where your agility allows you to slip inside the domain before the sect establishes their perimeter…
even if your luck allows you to bypass the ancient traps and secure a wealth of treasures…
the realm will eventually be fully conquered by the masters.
And when the exit gates are secured…”
His gaze turned entirely freezing.
“…every single surviving rogue cultivator who steps out of the light will be thoroughly searched by the enforcers.
Your storage bags will be upturned, your clothes will be ripped apart, and every single item down to the last copper piece will be aggressively questioned.”
“If the operation is overseen by standard Foundation Establishment experts, you might consider yourself fortunate to escape with your bare life after handing over your haul.
But if a Golden Core grandmaster arrives personally to secure the heritage…
do not be surprised if they simply execute every single witness to ensure the secrets never leak to rival factions.”
A thick layer of goosebumps erupted across Shen Jietian’s skin, his hands turning slightly cold.
The intense thrill of his discovery evaporated into thin air, replaced by a sobering awareness of his own vulnerability.
Only a few minutes prior, his mind had actively considered the prospect of selling the coordinates to a wealthy young master of the great clans or brokering the data to a merchant syndicate to secure a massive fortune in spirit stones.
Now?
Such a move sounded entirely suicidal.
The value of the information was far too massive; an independent Fifth Layer nobody attempting to barter a Secret Realm would simply be slaughtered by the buyers to save on the purchase price.
Finally, Elder Wu leaned his back comfortably against the wooden pavilion pillar, his demeanor returning to its usual detached state.
“If your ears desire my baseline advice?
You should wait.”
“Wait?” Shen Jietian pressed, calming his breathing.
“Let the Dark Mountain Sect march their armies to investigate the peaks,” the old man reasoned smoothly, taking another sip of his tea.
“Let the great clans spill their blood against the ancient guardian beasts until the true parameters of the domain become clear.
Once the environment stabilizes and the grand masters lower their vigilance, only then do you utilize your eyes to look for minor cracks in their perimeter to harvest crumbs.
That is the exact mathematical code by which independent loose cultivators survive the storms of this world.”
The quiet courtyard became peaceful once more.
Shen Jietian slowly stood up from his bench, smoothed his patched sleeves, and offered a deep, genuinely respectful bow to the elderly hermit.
“Thank you for the guidance, Elder Wu.
Your words have saved my life today.”
The old man simply waved a dismissively lazy hand through the air, picking up his gossip newspaper once more.
Shen Jietian gathered his newly repaired iron array plates, packed his handwritten sheets back into his sash, and walked with a steady step toward the front exit.
As the heavy wooden gate clicked shut behind his frame, the reckless excitement of his discovery had completely vanished from his psyche, thoroughly replaced by absolute caution.
A pristine Secret Realm had officially broken its seal within the western peaks; that data point was mathematically certain.
But as he looked toward the looming mountains, he understood an infinitely more critical law of the immortal path: discovering a hidden fortune was remarkably easy, but possessing the raw strength and patience to survive after discovering it…
that was the truly difficult part of the equation.
End of Chapter 25
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