My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

The mountain road leading to Wild Boar Forest, under the moonlight, meandered like a giant python lying stiffly.

Far from the sorrow of Liulin Village, the night wind blew through the forest, carrying a deeper mountain and wild atmosphere and a faint, barely perceptible strangeness.

At a bend in the mountain road, in a slightly open, sheltered area, a campfire leaps up alone in the darkness, before any human presence.

Beside the fire sat only one person—an old Taoist priest with gray hair and beard, an old Taoist robe, and a wine gourd hanging from his waist.

He casually built a stove with a few rocks, and strung a cleaned wild rabbit on a tree branch.

It was slowly being turned and roasted, the oil dripping into the fire, sizzling and releasing its aroma along with the smoke.

He held a gourd of wine in his other hand, taking sips now and then, his eyes half-closed, looking like he was enjoying a leisurely drink alone in the mountains.

About fifteen minutes later, a bluish-gray figure, like a breeze blending into the night, quietly appeared from where the mountain path had come from.

Upon seeing a fire in the distance, he stopped using the Shrinking Earth Technique and instead walked over.

This person was Ye Qingfeng, who was on his way. Seeing that it was getting late, he prepared to find a place to rest for the night.

He was still wearing that neat but worn Taoist robe, and his aura was peaceful and restrained, like a deep pool of still water.

However, when his gaze fell upon the seemingly disheveled and lazy old Taoist priest by the campfire, a slight thought stirred within him.

To outsiders he might just be a down-on-his-luck old Taoist priest, but to Ye Qingfeng's keen perception...

The "Qi" flowing continuously, perfectly balanced and quite solid within the other person's body was like a warm lamp in the dark night, clearly discernible.

This is something that no charlatan or a novice cultivator with only a superficial understanding could possess; it is clearly the work of a true cultivator who has received genuine instruction and has a solid foundation.

Several thoughts flashed through Ye Qingfeng's mind in an instant.

He traveled through this world and gained a detailed understanding of the true cultivation world, the classification of gods, ghosts, and demons, their power systems, and even the distribution of influence.

Most of what we know comes from fragmented rumors and the original owner's vague memories, and we lack a reliable source of information.

This hidden cultivator in the city might be an opportunity.

He showed no surprise on his face or in his eyes, as if he had just met an ordinary colleague. He bowed respectfully and spoke in a clear and calm voice.

"May the Heavenly Venerable grant me boundless blessings. On this desolate mountain road at night, I have come to disturb you by observing a campfire and the presence of people. May I borrow your light to rest for a while?"

Upon hearing the sound, the old Taoist priest looked up and glanced at Ye Qingfeng.

Seeing that the other party was young, dressed in a simple Taoist robe, with an ordinary aura, and clear but unremarkable eyes.

In his mind, he had already categorized him as a young wanderer who had not yet stepped into the realm of spiritual practice and might only know a little about the scriptures.

There are many people like this in the martial arts world, and he has seen them many times.

He casually waved his greasy hand, his tone carrying a touch of seniority's languor.

"Please, please! In this mountain wilderness, it's fate that we meet. Please help yourself, young friend. This rabbit is perfectly roasted, would you like some?"

"Thank you for your hospitality, fellow Daoist. I have already had some dry rations and dare not bother you any further."

Ye Qingfeng politely declined, but instead found a rock on the other side of the fire and sat down in a relaxed manner, as if it were just a casual rest.

He didn't rush to get to the point, but first looked around, especially glancing at the direction of the Wild Boar Forest in the darkness.

His tone naturally carried just the right amount of curiosity and inquiry.

"Brother Dao, you are here alone, enjoying the campfire and wild game; you seem quite content. I've heard from others on my journey that things ahead seem rather unsettled. Do you know anything about this?"

The old Taoist priest gnawed on the rabbit meat and mumbled something.

"Not peaceful? The world is pretty much the same everywhere. Young friend, you're so young, walking alone at night, you're quite bold, but don't you have any self-defense skills?"

This question seemed casual, but it also carried a hint of probing.

Ye Qingfeng gave a wry smile, shook his head, and his expression was perfectly controlled, carrying a hint of youthful honesty and a yearning for "skill".

"He has only learned a few scriptures and recognized a few symbols. His knowledge is very superficial. He can hardly be called a skilled person."

I've often heard people say that there are truly powerful cultivators in this world who can subdue demons and monsters and attain immortality through the manipulation of qi, but unfortunately, I've never had the chance to meet one.

He paused, looked at the old Taoist priest, and spoke sincerely.

"Tonight I have the pleasure of meeting you, fellow Daoist. Observing your calm demeanor and your unwavering composure in the wilderness, I believe you must be a highly accomplished cultivator."

I wonder... in this world, is the path of cultivation still smooth? Are those legendary tales of immortals and gods still commonplace?

He asked the question subtly.

The old Taoist priest paused almost imperceptibly as he ate the meat, then lifted his eyelids and gave Ye Qingfeng a deep look.

The firelight danced in his eyes, reflecting a hint of scrutiny.

He noticed that the young man's eyes were earnest and his demeanor was indeed ordinary.

The questions asked are common fantasies and curiosities among many young people who haven't yet entered the field, and don't seem fake.

However, he was not prepared to reveal anything about cultivation, as the world was becoming increasingly chaotic.

These ordinary people without any skills might be better off if they didn't know certain things.

So he grinned, revealing his teeth stuck with shredded meat, raised his wine gourd in a perfunctory toast, and his tone became slick and indistinct again.

"Young friend, that's a good question... Matters of immortals and gods exist if you believe, and don't if you don't. As for cultivation..."

He took a swig of wine and smacked his lips.

"Hey, the path is under your feet and in your heart. As for me, I'm just a carefree person who wanders around in the mountains, swindles some wine and meat, and watches the excitement. What do I know about true cultivation or false cultivation, or the path to immortality or the mortal world?"

The things of this world, if seen too clearly, are not beautiful. It's rare to be confused, rare to be confused!

It's a typical example of using cryptic language, avoiding the real issue and focusing on the trivial, neither admitting nor denying anything, and completely refusing to engage with specific topics.

Ye Qingfeng understood that the other party was unwilling to discuss this matter in depth with an "ordinary person".

He didn't press the matter, but followed the other person's words, showing a somewhat enlightened yet seemingly understanding expression, and nodded.

"Brother Dao is right. I was being presumptuous. Just go with the flow and let nature take its course."

He stopped asking about the matter of cultivation and instead picked up the roasted sweet potatoes that the villagers had prepared.

He slowly peeled and ate it, as if the earlier probing was just a casual remark.

Seeing that Ye Qingfeng was no longer pressing the matter, the old Taoist priest was happy to have some peace and quiet and continued to enjoy his rabbit meat and wine.

Silence returned between the two, broken only by the crackling of the campfire.

The night was still long, and the shadows in the Wild Boar Forest seemed to grow even darker.

The two had barely calmed down when they heard the sound of wheels rolling over gravel and horses snorting from the other end of the mountain road, along with faint human voices.

Before long, a convoy appeared within the range illuminated by the firelight.

It was an ebony carriage with blue patterns, and four guards, a steward, maids, and others.

Upon seeing a campfire and figures ahead, the caravan stopped. The guards gripped their sword hilts warily.

The old steward stepped forward and, by the firelight, saw that they were two Taoist priests, one old and one young, neither of whom were dressed very well. He breathed a slight sigh of relief, but his vigilance remained. He cupped his hands in greeting.

"Greetings, two Daoist priests. We have been traveling and missed our lodging. Seeing this light, we came to trouble you. May we rest here for the night?"

The tone was polite but distant.

The old Taoist priest, still chewing on rabbit meat, waved his oily hand and said, "Don't be so polite, the place is spacious, make yourself at home." His attitude remained casual.

Ye Qingfeng also stood up and bowed, saying, "May the Heavenly Venerable grant you boundless blessings, benefactor, please make yourself at home."