I want to tread the heavens

The jade slip from the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion lay tucked in his robes, like a piece of ice, yet also like a faint flame. Deacon Su Mo's words echoed in his ears; the potential retaliation from the Zhao family loomed large, and the preliminary registration date was fast approaching. He could no longer stay at the "Return Home Inn." It wasn't about the rent (though it was almost time anyway), but rather the abundance of people and eyes; it wasn't secluded enough. If the Zhao family wanted to find him, this place would be far too easy.

He needed to find a safe place to stay that would also make it easier for him to get things done.

As dawn broke, he left the inn with Fa Cai. The old innkeeper was still dozing and didn't question the early-departing guest. After settling the bill, he led his two Wind Beasts, which also needed shelter, through the thin morning crowds. He didn't inquire at teahouses or taverns but headed directly towards the area in western Falling Star City known as the "shantytown" and the "mixed-use area for rogue cultivators." Far from the bustling main streets and markets, the buildings there were low and dilapidated, the alleys narrow and filthy. It was inhabited mostly by artisans, laborers, and rogue cultivators like himself—those with some cultivation but struggling financially. It was chaotic, but correspondingly, the regulations were lax, the rent was cheap, and the area was complex enough to provide cover.

Wandering through alleyways reeking of stale water and cheap coal smoke, his feet sank into slippery mud and garbage. Occasionally, a ragged, listless person would squat by the doorway, scrutinizing Ling Xiao as he led his pack animals past. Their gaze would linger for a moment on the knife behind him and the wolf at his feet before indifferently looking away. The people here possessed an instinctive wariness and alienation towards danger and the unfamiliar. He kept an eye on the posters on the walls and the occasional broker who looked like a "broker." Finally, at the entrance of an alley piled with broken wooden crates, he saw a gaunt old man dozing against a wall. Beside him was a wooden board with the words "Rental" scrawled in charcoal. "Do you have a detached house with a yard and a shed? A little out of the way, quiet, big enough for two pack animals. Short-term rental," he stopped and asked. The old man opened his sleepy eyes, looked him over, his gaze lingering on the Wind Beast and Fa Cai, and said in a hoarse voice, "Yes, there is. It's at the very end of the west end, where there used to be an old coffin maker's courtyard. He's dead, and the courtyard is empty. It's a detached house with a dilapidated shed. The house leaks when it rains, and the walls are about to collapse. Five low-grade spirit crystals a month, one month's rent as deposit. Minimum rent is one month."

Ten low-grade spirit crystals. Ling Xiao touched his pocket. Besides the jade slip Su Mo gave him and the black stone, he only had a few pieces of "soft steel plaster" and "energy-conducting silver powder" that he had traded with Amu and hadn't been willing to use, as well as the last two Rejuvenation Powder pills Guo Yun gave him. He had no spirit crystals left. "Use this as payment." Ling Xiao took out the bottle of mediocre-quality Clear Mind Pills he had obtained from Liu An, and then took out the few pieces of "soft steel plaster" and "energy-conducting silver powder." "These materials are useful for repairing things. The pills can save your life in critical moments. It'll cover two months' rent. If that's okay, I'll find another place." The old man took the pills, uncorked them, smelled them, and then squeezed the two pieces of materials. A glint of shrewdness flashed in his cloudy eyes. He clearly knew his stuff. He knew that these two repair materials had some market value among rogue cultivators, and the pills were even more valuable.

"Three pills for you, materials... I'll give you two. Two months' rent is ten, you're still five short," the old man said slowly.

"That's all. Besides me, it's unlikely anyone will rent this place anytime soon." Ling Xiao's voice was calm, without any intention of bargaining, simply stating the facts.

The old man stared at him for a few seconds, then glanced at the two wind-riding beasts, which looked weak but had good frames. Finally, his gaze lingered on Ling Xiao's calm face for a moment, and he curled his lip. "Fine, I'll take pity on you. The yard is yours, here's the key. Let me make this clear: don't touch anything in the yard, it's unlucky where someone has died. Pay the five spirit crystals you're short by the end of the month, or you're fired." He tossed him a rusty iron key and pointed to the depths of the alley. Ling Xiao took the key, said nothing more, and led the wind-riding beasts inside. Fa Cai followed closely behind, always wary of the filthy surroundings and dark corners. At the end of the alley, there was a crooked gate made of broken planks, the lock rusted shut. He struggled to pry it open with the key, and pushed the gate open. A stench of old dust and rotten wood hit him.

The courtyard was small, an irregularly long strip, about two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) square. The ground was uneven, muddy soil overgrown with tenacious weeds. Facing the courtyard were three low, mud-brick houses, their thatched roofs mostly collapsed, revealing dark rafters. To the left was a makeshift shed made of sticks and tattered mats, barely enough to shelter from the rain, just large enough to tether the two Wind-Walking Beasts. In a corner of the courtyard lay piles of rotten wood, broken pottery jars, and half a coffin board whose original shape was unrecognizable. It was desolate and dilapidated, but secluded and quiet enough. The courtyard wall was made of rammed earth, not high, but still relatively intact. Most importantly, it was a secluded courtyard, a small world temporarily isolated from the outside world once the door was closed. He led the two Wind-Walking Beasts into the shed, unsaddled them, and fed them the last of his black bean cakes and dried alfalfa from his baggage. The two beasts, weary from their journey, had lost a lot of weight and needed rest.

Then he pushed open the creaking, dilapidated wooden door of the main room. The room was dimly lit, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering through the holes in the roof. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, and cobwebs hung in the corners. There was only one main room and a small inner room that could barely be considered a bedroom; the furniture consisted of two dilapidated wooden plank beds and a crippled table. The air was thick with the smell of rotten wood and dust, along with a faint, musty, stale odor (perhaps left by the coffin maker).

He spent half a day doing a simple cleaning. By the time he finished, it was almost dusk. He sat on the threshold of the main room, drinking cold water and munching on the last half of a hard steamed bun in his arms. Fa Cai lay at his feet, taking small bites of the other half. The afterglow of the setting sun cast a dim yellow hue over the dilapidated courtyard, temporarily dispelling the eerie feeling.

He filled his stomach but didn't rest. He took out the few pieces of "soft steel plaster" and "energy-conducting silver powder" from his pocket, then pulled out the jade slip Su Mo had given him. Finally, his gaze fell on the pile of rotten wood and broken pottery in the corner of the courtyard. Repairing the starship was a long-term plan, and the conditions weren't right now. But at least, he could make this temporary "home" a little safer.

He got up and walked around the courtyard a few times, carefully examining every corner of the walls, roof, doors, and windows. Then, he began to work. There were no array flags, no talismans, only the simplest materials—sharp stakes made from rotten wood, buried in inconspicuous corners at the base of the walls; sharp-edged shards of porcelain knocked from broken pottery jars, tied with grass stems to hidden places on window frames and door hinges; and with burnt charcoal, he drew several extremely simple, even chaotic, twisted patterns in inconspicuous spots at the corners of the walls—these were not arrays, but more like a primitive warning sign. Once triggered by external force, the residual meteoric power in the patterns would cause subtle disturbances, which he could vaguely sense.

He also mixed a little mud with "soft steel plaster" to carefully reinforce and lubricate the key moving parts of the courtyard gate and house doors, such as the hinges and latches, ensuring that they opened and closed silently and were more secure. He mixed "energy-conducting silver powder" with well water and drew a shallow, barely perceptible line on the inside of the door and under the windowsill—this stuff could weakly interfere with and absorb the spiritual energy fluctuations of those who approached. Although the effect was negligible, it was better than nothing for cultivators who might use divine sense or spiritual energy to probe.

These arrangements were crude, rudimentary, and even somewhat laughable. Any array master or restriction master with even a slight lineage would scoff at them. But this was the greatest effort Ling Xiao could make with his limited knowledge and materials, given the scarcity of resources and the urgency of the situation. Every arrangement revealed an almost instinctive caution born of struggling for survival in dire circumstances.

By the time he finished, it was completely dark. There was no moon, only faint starlight. The courtyard was shrouded in deep darkness and silence, broken only by the occasional, indistinct bark of a dog from afar. Back inside, he sat cross-legged at the rickety table, pressing the jade slip Su Mo had given him to his forehead again, carefully studying the descriptions of "Path of Inquiry" and "Practical Combat," silently simulating possible scenarios, considering his own strengths and weaknesses, and devising countermeasures. At the same time, he diverted a sliver of his mind to circulate the "Zhou Tian Xing Chen Body Refining Technique," slowly absorbing the thin, mixed spiritual energy in the air to repair the hidden injuries in his meridians and nourish the wound on his left arm. Starlight filtered through the holes in the roof, falling upon him, subtly activated by the technique, making it slightly more efficient than simply absorbing spiritual energy.

Fa Cai lay in the shadows at his feet, eyes closed, ears still perked up, nostrils twitching slightly from time to time. It was guarding this unfamiliar, perilous new "nest" in its own way. It also needed time to digest the fatigue of its long journey, adapt to this drastically different environment, and absorb the (thin) but far superior spiritual energy of this place to its old home, to restore and even enhance its own power.

A man and a wolf settled temporarily in the most inconspicuous, dilapidated corner of this vast city. They lived a secluded life, licking their wounds and gathering strength. Outside, the nightlife of Falling Star City was just beginning, brightly lit, yet turbulent undercurrents surged. The Zhao family might be searching for his whereabouts, the deacons of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion might be quietly observing from some high place, the three major sects' villas were preparing for the upcoming grand event, and countless young cultivators like him were eagerly anticipating the "Ascension Conference" to change their fate.

In this quiet, dilapidated courtyard, all Ling Xiao could hear was his own steady breathing, Fa Cai's soft snoring, the rustling of the wind through the thatched roof, and... the increasingly clear and firm goal deep within his heart.

Three days later, at Jixian Square.

He had to go. And he had to go through it.

His fingers unconsciously twirled the jade slip in his bosom, and also the heavy "invitation" that he couldn't tell was an opportunity or a greater trap.

The night was still long. The road was still long. But at least, under this dilapidated roof, he had a temporary "home" where he could catch his breath. Although this "home" might be more fraught with danger than a rocky depression in the wilderness.