The panda of the cultivation world was soft.
Giant panda.
Iron-eating beast.
Panda.
Roly-poly.
Black-and-white bear... No, that one didn’t seem quite right.
In short, Shu Fu stared fixedly at the plump, round beast before her, examining it from every angle—up and down, left and right, front and back, over and over again.
No matter how she looked at it, it was undeniably, unquestionably a real giant panda.
“...”
The panda set Shu Fu down on the ground, then obediently plopped down on its rump. Its round eyes, hidden amid those heavy dark circles, gleamed as it stared at her without blinking.
Then it did something unexpected—
Facing Shu Fu, the panda folded its two paws before its chest. Imitating a human gesture, it bent its stout little body as best it could and gave her a gentle, clumsy bow.
“You...”
Shu Fu paused, vaguely beginning to understand. She raised her hands and gestured as she asked, “Panda Bro, do you need my help with something?”
The panda seemed to understand a little of human speech. It immediately nodded hard.
Seizing the opportunity, Shu Fu cautiously began to bargain. “If I help you, would you be willing to come with me?”
This time, the panda seemed not to understand. It tilted its head in bewilderment, as if asking, “What does it mean to come with you?”
Shu Fu was in no rush to lure the panda away. Seeing how restless it was, glancing back from time to time, she readily made a gesture. “All right. Show me what you need help with. Lead the way, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“!!!”
The panda instantly perked up. It rolled on the spot like a sesame dumpling, then sprang to its feet and pointed out a direction for Shu Fu with one forepaw.
It was pointing toward the depths of the mist-shrouded bamboo forest.
“All right. Lead the way.”
Shu Fu wasn’t worried that a roly-poly panda would try to trick her. Just as she was about to follow, the panda seemed to remember something. It hurriedly waddled back and held out one broad paw toward her.
“Huh?”
Before Shu Fu could react, the panda had scooped her right up from the ground, lifting her as though she were a child and carefully setting her on its back.
Then, carrying her on its back, the panda turned around, dropped to all fours, and galloped toward the depths of the bamboo grove.
“Huh? Huh? Panda Bro, you’re awfully practiced at this, aren’t you?”
It was Shu Fu’s first time riding a panda. As she sped through the bamboo forest, with the endless emerald sea of bamboo rushing backward around her, all kinds of chaotic thoughts flashed through her mind.
Was this really okay? Was riding a panda illegal?
A thousand thoughts and countless emotions ultimately converged into a single sentence:
—The fur on a panda’s back feels so good!
By the time they arrived, Shu Fu was still completely absorbed in this warm, fluffy panda cushion, almost unwilling to let go.
If there was anything in the world that could make Shu Fu forget all about blissfully cuddling a panda, it was this—
Before her appeared an entire group of pandas.
More precisely, it was a cluster of panda cubs huddled together, rolling about in a fuzzy heap like a bowlful of glutinous rice balls.
Shu Fu: “!!!!!!!”
—Oh my god, is this secret realm heaven?!
—If not for the fact that they could only stay for two shichen, and had to leave the moment time ran out, she would have wanted to move into this secret realm!!!
Unlike the tall, sturdy adult pandas, these panda cubs were smaller and rounder, their fine black-and-white fur soft as velvet. Each one looked like a plush toy, perfect for scooping up into one’s arms.
After Shu Fu reluctantly climbed down, the giant panda gently picked up one of the cubs with its forepaws. It made soft, broken whimpering sounds in its throat, as though trying to tell her something.
“What is it? Do you want me to examine it?”
Noticing the panda’s strange behavior, Shu Fu gave it some thought, then placed a hand on the listless cub’s head. She circulated her spiritual power and carefully sensed the flow of energy within its body.
Now that she had formed her core, not only had the power of her techniques improved enormously, but so had her ability to perceive spiritual auras. A simple touch was enough to give her the equivalent of a full diagnostic examination—a cultivation-world version of an X-ray.
Unfortunately, this ability only worked on opponents whose cultivation was lower than hers—such as this tiny, pitiful, helpless panda baby.
With just that light touch, Shu Fu immediately realized what was wrong.
“This panda’s aura... is extremely weak?”
The cub bore no external injuries. It did not seem to be suffering from any illness, nor were there any signs of poisoning. At first glance, everything appeared perfectly normal.
If she had to compare it to something, it was as though... some strange presence had taken up residence inside the young panda’s body, steadily draining away its life force.
The giant panda gazed at Shu Fu with pleading eyes, placed the cub in her arms, then pressed its two forepaws together in a gesture of supplication.
“Don’t worry. I understand what you mean.”
Cradling the sickly panda cub in one arm, Shu Fu placed her other hand over the giant panda’s paws and nodded with conviction.
“I’ll think of something. I’ll definitely cure this little one. Before that, though, I hope you’ll help me as well.”
—How could anyone in this world possibly stand by and watch a panda cub die?
Shu Fu did not know what lay at the root of the cub’s weakness, so she could not treat it properly. But she had her own plan. First, she transferred a thread of spiritual energy into the panda cub and fed it several cooling, calming spirit fruits, temporarily easing its weakness and pain. Then she took out the “Heart-Guarding Scale” hanging from her neck and silently called Jiang Xuesheng’s name in her heart.
This scale had come from the Dragon God’s true body, and the spiritual power contained within it was extraordinarily potent. Jiang Xuesheng had told her that she would not be able to absorb it fully for some time yet; for the moment, she could not completely refine the Heart-Guarding Scale and make it a part of her body.
Still, as a tool for finding someone, the Heart-Guarding Scale was already more than enough.
“...”
Shu Fu found it difficult to describe the mysterious sensation. It was as though she possessed another heart, from which an invisible, intangible vein extended—delicate yet unbreakable—crossing mountains and rivers to connect with Jiang Xuesheng’s soul.
Very soon, she sensed the direction in which Jiang Xuesheng was located.
“All right. Let’s go.”
She turned to the giant panda with complete confidence.
“I’ll take you to find someone. He can definitely solve your problem.”
Her words had barely left her lips when she paused, staring helplessly at the panda cubs rolling all over the ground.
The giant panda worried for the cub in Shu Fu’s arms, yet it could not bear to leave the other babies behind. Whether it stayed or went, it would have to part with one side of its family.
The secret realm was fraught with unknown dangers. If the adult panda was absent and anything happened to the other cubs, Shu Fu would be committing a terrible sin.
“I’ve got it.”
An idea struck Shu Fu. She took out the Langyuan painting scroll from her storage pouch and unfurled it before the panda family with a flourish. “All of you, come into this painting. I’ll take you with me, and we can go find Sir together. There’s plenty of space inside for everyone... no, for all the pandas.”
If Jiang Xuesheng ever learned that Shu Fu had not only been utterly captivated by a pack of pandas, but had also used the villa he gave her to lure them in, who knew what he would think?
In any case, the pandas were innocent and easy to persuade. Shu Fu’s ulterior-motive-laden (?) temptation proved a great success, and before long they had reached an agreement. With the entire panda family, young and old, tucked away with her, she set off on her journey.
At that moment, Shu Fu felt that, as the woman who possessed a whole family of pandas, she stood at the very pinnacle of the cultivation world.
...
But Shu Fu, standing at the pinnacle of the cultivation world, soon encountered a difficult problem.
Following the direction indicated by the Heartguard Scale, she found an endless expanse of water stretching out before her.
Looking into the distance, she saw boundless emerald waves rolling onward, their far shore nowhere in sight. It was almost as though this lake itself marked the end of the secret realm.
Even more troublesome, spiritual power could not be used anywhere around the lake. Naturally, that meant no sword flight, spells, or flying artifacts either.
The strange environment reminded Shu Fu of Master Huaigu’s utterly wicked cave, filled with spirit-sealing stones, during her entrance trial years ago.
In other words, this wicked lake was likewise a trial designed to test the participants of the autumn hunt, leaving it to them to figure out how to cross it.
Without spiritual power, cultivators were merely agile mortals. Their immortal, fantasy-level strength would be forcibly reduced to the realm of martial arts—an epic nerf, so to speak.
Even with the qinggong technique known as “Lingbo Steps,” Shu Fu had no idea how long she could keep going if she tried to travel across such a vast lake in one breath.
“In any case, I need somewhere to step...”
After pondering for a moment, Shu Fu’s thoughts shifted. She took one of the spirit fruits she had fed the pandas earlier, held it in her palm, and tossed it far out over the lake.
The instant the fruit left her hand, a bright splash rang out. A koi as large as a person leapt from the water, opened and closed its mouth, and swallowed the spirit fruit whole!
“Just as I thought—there are fish.”
Shu Fu clapped her hands in satisfaction. “I knew it. This secret realm is full of spirit beasts, so of course the lake would have some too.”
Without further delay, she gathered every scrap of food she had on her into a cloth bag and carried it in her hand. With the bulging bag in tow, she scattered bait across the lake’s surface as she sprang into motion. Timing her leap for the moment the koi broke the water, she lightly touched down on its back with the tip of her foot.
As a sword cultivator known for her agility, Shu Fu moved with featherlight grace. Before the koi could even sense her weight, she had already drifted far away like a kite on the wind.
And so, she kept tossing out bits of food to lure the fish to the surface, then lightly skipped across the lake on their backs as if she were stepping across a set of plum-blossom stakes.
Later, Shu Fu came across a turtle with an especially hard shell. She simply planted herself atop its carapace, dangling a spirit fruit from a long rod on a string before its eyes—like a carrot enticing a donkey—and used it directly as a means of transport.
At the same time, as she darted back and forth across the lake, she caught sight of other cultivators as well.
Some had fashioned little boats and were rowing with all their might; others, like her, had borrowed the strength of spirit beasts in the water.
Those skilled in beast taming were clearly a cut above the rest. Like fish in water, they expertly commanded all manner of spirit beasts.
Looking around, she saw people riding koi, turtles, waterfowl, and jellyfish. There were even those mounted on monsters that looked remarkably like the Loch Ness Monster—or rather, demon beasts that resembled it. Most outrageous of all, someone was riding atop a huge seal, gliding nimbly over the blue waves…
…Wait. What was a seal doing in a lake?
Wouldn’t the seal be all right?!
Shu Fu reflexively called out, “Wait, that seal—”
“Don’t worry, fellow cultivator. He is my spirit pet.”
A clear, lilting voice rang out. A lovely young woman with alluring features and sparkling eyes sat elegantly sideways atop the seal’s back, smiling like a flower. She was none other than Miss Zhong Yingcui, fiancée of the Young Master of Fengyi Sect.
“Unlike ordinary sea creatures, he can move freely in lake water as well.”
With a bright smile, Zhong Yingcui gently stroked the seal’s head. Her gaze lingered briefly on Shu Fu’s face, carrying a hint of appreciation. “If you are interested, would you care to travel with me?”
“Er…”
Only then did Shu Fu remember that she was still wearing the guise of a cool, stern-looking young man—hardly unattractive to a maiden in the bloom of youth.
Zhong Yingcui was beautiful and refined, clearly a pampered daughter of a distinguished family. With her fiancé absent, it was only natural that she might want a pleasingly handsome escort to keep her company.
But Shu Fu had no desire whatsoever to get involved in another couple’s affairs and invite trouble for herself.
Besides, she wasn’t into women—Master Mingxiao excepted.
Thus, Shu Fu composed herself, her manner distant yet polite as she declined Zhong Yingcui’s invitation.
“My apologies, Miss Zhong. I am anxious to find my wife, so I fear it would be inconvenient for me to travel with you.”
Zhong Yingcui’s expression shifted slightly, and she seemed somewhat disappointed. Still, she did not press the matter. After offering a few perfunctory words of good wishes, she bade Shu Fu farewell with waning interest.
…
After parting with Zhong Yingcui, Shu Fu continued onward atop her turtle. About a quarter of an hour later, just as she could faintly make out the shore in the distance, she suddenly noticed something strange about the water.
Beneath the sparkling, diamond-like ripples, something black and densely packed seemed to be gathering, writhing, and churning beneath the surface…
Then Shu Fu realized what it was.
—Water snakes.
Only, she had never seen so many snakes in her life.
Thousands upon thousands of water snakes twisted their slick, supple bodies. Their tiny triangular heads broke the surface, rows of fine fangs gleaming with an icy light.
They swarmed together like a dark, rolling tide, surging forward with the force of an avalanche, as though they meant to swallow Shu Fu and the turtle whole.
Turtle: ??????
I only wanted to eat a spirit fruit. How did things turn into this?!
Shu Fu immediately urged the turtle to turn around, only to find another vast mass of water snakes closing in from behind. They had silently cast their net, hemming her in so tightly there was no way out.
Anyone with trypophobia would probably have fainted by now.
Everywhere she looked, there were tangled, writhing snake bodies and bobbing heads, pressing toward Shu Fu without the slightest fear of death.
Just then—
“Shu Fu, what are you doing over there?”
Following the voice, Shu Fu looked across the vast swarm of snakes and saw Xie Fangnian—the short-legged cat, round as a snowball—crouched on the back of a slightly smaller turtle, speeding toward her from afar.
Only when he came closer did Shu Fu see why the turtle was moving so quickly: Xie Fangnian had dipped his fluffy tail into the water and was spinning it in circles at high speed like a windmill, using it as a propeller.
“Right! I can do that too!”
Shu Fu suddenly came to her senses. She put away the bamboo pole from which the spirit fruit hung—the turtle opened its mouth wide in baffled sorrow—then spread her hands and summoned two greatswords, one black and one white. Grasping one in each hand, she copied Xie Fangnian and whirled them around, turning them into two great spinning windmills.
In an instant, water sprayed everywhere and blood and flesh flew through the air. Every water snake that tried to leap at her was sucked into the windmills—or rather, the fans—and promptly chopped into pieces. Heads and bodies separated; torsos were cut into three, four, five, or six chunks, which rained down into the water.
And so, wielding two giant windmills that also served as twin propellers, Shu Fu sent her thoroughly bewildered turtle-boat racing forward. Raising her voice, she called out:
“Thank you for the guidance, Elder! I’ve finally discovered the proper way to use dual greatswords!”
Xie Fangnian: “...Proper, my foot.”
