vstars Chapter 663 I don't feel anything! Let's go see the grasslands!
Chapter 663 I don't feel anything! Let's go see the grasslands!
The final step is to weave a cinnabar-colored garment.
Chen Fan took a deep breath and used his divine sense as a guide to draw spiritual energy into threads hundreds of times finer than a hair, wrapping them layer by layer around the surface of the core.
This step is the most taxing on one's spiritual energy.
The outer layer of the Divine Transformation Pill must be woven into seven layers, and each layer must be of uniform thickness and density. Any slight flaw will affect the final grade of the pill.
His ten fingers flew like lightning, and spiritual energy threads, guided by his divine sense, automatically wove into a net, completely enveloping the core.
First floor, second floor, third floor...
Chen Fan's face grew paler and paler, his temples throbbing, but he didn't stop for a moment. Weaving the elixir garment required a continuous, uninterrupted process; if he stopped midway, seams would be left on the garment, and the quality of the elixir would be greatly reduced.
The moment the seventh layer of the elixir was completed, a clear and long humming sound emanated from the Qiankun Furnace.
The furnace lid flew off, and a pill the size of a longan, entirely made of pure gold, flew out of the furnace, hovering in mid-air and slowly rotating. Five faint lines of cinnabar flowed across the surface of the pill, its outer coating intact, and its medicinal fragrance subtle yet lingering.
The Divine Transformation Pill with five cinnabar patterns is of superior quality.
Chen Fan reached out and caught the pill, examining it for a moment in his palm.
This small pill contained an immense and terrifyingly pure demonic power; simply holding it in one's palm was enough to feel the power within, enough to shake one's dantian. If an ordinary Nascent Soul cultivator at the Great Perfection stage were to consume this pill, their success rate in breaking through to the Divine Transformation stage would increase by at least 30%.
He placed the Transformation Pill to his lips, but did not swallow it.
Because Chen Fan didn't feel any sense of needing to break through.
He entered the realm of cause and effect unintentionally in the Great Abyss Imperial Palace, the realm of life and death was touched by Xiao Die and Shi San, and the realm of stillness originated from the stillness technique itself.
The three artistic conceptions all came about by chance, but they always lacked a core, a key opportunity to integrate them and make them one's own.
If one forces a breakthrough on an incomplete foundation, one might be able to enter the Nascent Soul stage.
But that kind of Nascent Soul realm is not what Chen Fan wants.
He put the Transformation Pill back into the jade bottle, put the cap back on, and remained silent for a long time.
Wang Wang Wang...
Just then, outside the quiet room came the voice of Eunuch Wei calling out to Black Emperor in the fields, along with the faint barking of Black Emperor, who seemed unwilling.
The wind in the spirit field blew through the window, carrying the sweet scent of spirit rice ears.
He suddenly stood up, pushed open the door to the quiet room, and walked out.
Eunuch Wei was shooing away dogs at the courtyard gate when he heard footsteps and opened one eyelid: "You've broken through?"
"No." Chen Fan sat down across the stone table. "We're going out for a walk."
"Where to?"
"grassland."
Eunuch Wei stared at him for a moment, but didn't ask any questions. He simply took out a storage bag from his sleeve and threw it on the stone table: "This is some spirit rice that was harvested a few days ago. Take it with you on the road."
He paused, then added, "That bastard Black Emperor has gotten even fatter lately. Why don't you take him with you? He'd be a master at biting people if you let him out!"
Chen Fan shook his head slightly, put the storage bag into his sleeve, and then turned and left the courtyard.
Outside the golden bowl, the night wind on the grassland was still biting.
On the ruins of the cliff that Wang Zhenyue had shattered with a single palm strike, most of the rubble had been buried by sand and dust. A gray-blue figure appeared out of thin air in the center of the ruins; it was Chen Fan.
He neither flew on a sword nor escaped; he simply walked step by step into the depths of the grassland.
Two days later, Chen Fan discovered a small lake at the foot of a low hill.
The lake is not large, only a few dozen feet in circumference. The water is crystal clear, and the bottom is covered with a layer of smooth pebbles.
A ring of low shrubs grows along the lake, and occasionally a few gray wild rabbits can be seen peeking out from among the bushes.
Not far from the lake, dozens of gray and white sheepskin tents are scattered, with wisps of smoke rising from between them.
Chen Fan sat cross-legged on the grass by the lake, gazing at the tranquil scene before him, and the feeling of loss in his heart gradually subsided.
The threshold to becoming a Nascent Soul cultivator was right in front of him, but he couldn't find the feeling to push open that door.
It's not that I lack spiritual power, nor that my artistic conception is incomplete, but rather that I lack a state of mind that can integrate everything.
While talking with Naren on the grassland, he touched a corner of that state of mind.
The purple wildflower the little girl handed him, and her words about the grasslands, the sheep, and loneliness, made him realize for the first time that he wasn't a prisoner being pushed along by fate, but someone who could stop and appreciate the scenery.
However, this feeling is not strong enough, not complete enough.
Chen Fan needed to immerse himself more deeply, completely forgetting his identity as a cultivator, and rediscover the world in the most ordinary way.
He stood up and walked towards the tents.
The tribe is small, with only twenty or thirty households.
The tent was built with sheepskin and rough wood, and a simple chimney stood on the top, from which wisps of smoke rose.
Scattered among the tents were several dilapidated wooden carts, their wheels caked with dried mud. A few skinny sheepdogs lay on the grass outside the tents, their ears perking up warily as strangers approached, emitting low growls.
A middle-aged woman who was milking a goat in front of the tent was the first to see him.
The woman had a dark complexion, rough hands, and wore a faded sheepskin robe.
She looked up and sized Chen Fan up and down a few times. She lacked the usual wariness and guardedness a cultivator displays when encountering a stranger; instead, she grinned, revealing a set of teeth yellowed by the wind.
"An outsider?"
Chen Fan nodded.
He had completely concealed his cultivation at this moment, and had also slightly adjusted his appearance using the Fixed Word Technique.
The fair, clean-shaven face transformed into a dark-skinned, ordinary-looking middle-aged man, dressed in a dark fur robe commonly seen on the grasslands, looking no different from an ordinary grassland herder.
"Where did you come from?" the woman asked again.
"A very far place." Chen Fan's answer was exactly the same as what he had told Naren before.
The woman said "oh" and didn't ask any further questions. She simply stood up and shouted into the tent.
Before long, a burly middle-aged man lifted the curtain and came out.
The man's face was tanned red by the grassland sun, his arms were strong and powerful, and his eyes, though not large, revealed the simplicity and straightforwardness unique to the people of the grassland.
He walked up to Chen Fan, looked him up and down, and suddenly grinned: "Outsider, it's not safe for you to travel alone on this grassland. There are wolves, bandits, and those strange people who raise insects. If you don't mind, you can stay here with us. We're poor, but we can afford to feed one more person."
Chen Fan paused for a moment, then bowed slightly to the man: "Thank you."
The man waved his hand and led Chen Fan toward an empty tent on the outermost side of the tribe.
On the way, he introduced himself, saying that his name was Batu and that he was the chief of this tribe.
This tribe has lived by herding livestock on this grassland for generations. The people in the tribe are all ordinary people, without spiritual roots or cultivators.