In Ningzhou of Tiannan Dongyu Kingdom, which stands in sharp contrast to the densely forested mountain regions of Changzhou, the land is predominantly composed of yellow loess plateaus, with few trees and rivers. As a result, the number of cultivators residing here is sparse. Only a handful of small families of cultivators occupy the scarce, inferior spiritual veins scattered throughout the region, enjoying a peaceful and undisturbed existence. In the southwest of Ningzhou lies Linglin Mountain, one of the few areas endowed with spiritual veins in the entire region. Though Linglin Mountain covers a considerable expanse—over a hundred miles—it boasts only a mere dozen miles of spiritual veins. Only the main peak and two adjacent smaller hills provide sufficient conditions for cultivators to meditate and practice. Yet, despite this limited space, three families of cultivators—two large and one smaller—reside here, each occupying one of the three peaks. The Huang, Li, and Wang families, compelled to settle in Ningzhou—a place with scarce spiritual energy—were all relatively minor clans. Even Huang, the strongest among them, had only two Foundation Stage cultivators, let alone any Dan Stage cultivators. The rest of their disciples were mostly low-level Qi Stage students, primarily at the third or fourth level. Moreover, there were thousands of family members from all three clans without any spiritual roots, who had to reside in the outer areas of Linglin Mountain. After soaking the spiritual tea brewed with the water from this sacred spring and certain medicinal herbs, low-level disciples at the Qi Condensation stages below the fifth or sixth layer can achieve a partial marrow renewal and meridian reorganization, which greatly benefits their future cultivation. This is one of the primary reasons why the three families, despite recognizing that this location is not particularly conducive to cultivation, have persisted in staying here. However, while this spring possesses such a remarkable effect, it is not available year after year. Instead, it only emerges for a fixed number of days each year, and each time the flow is meager—far insufficient for equitable distribution among the three families. Consequently, after consultations among their elders, the three families jointly dispatched personnel to seal off the spring, opening it only once every ten years. The accumulated water volume over a ten-year period is sufficient to meet the needs of all three families for one full cycle. Moreover, every ten years coincides precisely with the period when the new recruits from each family are maturing, thus avoiding any waste or overuse of the spring's resources. This single spring of spiritual essence has bound the three families together, compelling them to jointly protect and preserve it, and to open the spring every ten years, administering the "Shen-Mu Yi Jing" to their young disciples. On this day, at the summit of Linglin Mountain's main peak, a grand ceremony is underway to open the spring. Before a sheer black mountain face over a hundred zhang high, dozens of disciples from the three families are arranged in several rows, each one filled with excitement, gazing eagerly toward the front. These disciples range in age from as old as sixteen or seventeen to as young as eleven or twelve. Their cultivation levels are mostly between the third and fourth layers of Qi Condensation stage, with many still at the first or second layers. At the very front of the crowd, there stand several senior cultivators, many of whom have reached the tenth layer or beyond of the Qi Condensation stage. Among them, three elders have even advanced into the Foundation Stage—one at the mid-stage, two at the initial stage. These十余 cultivators, with deep attainments, were standing before the stone wall, holding various artifacts in their hands and chanting incantations continuously, performing the ritual to unseal the spell array. On the large, towering stone wall, several to eight spell scrolls of varying colors were affixed, their luminous glow flickering between bright and dim. At this moment, under the guidance of three senior cultivators, the chanting of the younger practitioners grew louder and more urgent, and the white light of the spell flags held by the three elders gradually intensified. After a brief interval, the three elders simultaneously raised one hand and cast a spell, which manifested as a radiant stream of light sweeping across the wall. The scrolls on the stone wall trembled slightly under the glow and then drifted down one by one. At this moment, several disciples who had been waiting patiently, holding jade boxes, hurried forward to collect each scroll carefully and place it inside, then promptly retreated. For such a small family, these spell scrolls were indeed rare treasures, and their preservation was of utmost importance. The stone wall, freed from its talismanic seals, now emitted a misty glow and gently trembled. At that moment, the front cultivators—including the three elders—simultaneously raised their ceremonial flags. Fine filaments of light, each of a different hue, shot forth from the tips of the flags and swiftly vanished into the luminous mist. The wall's vibrations intensified, and amidst a thunderous rumble like the earth shifting and mountains shaking, it gradually split in two from the middle, revealing a broad, semicircular opening several dozen feet wide. The young disciples from the three families behind stared in wide-eyed wonder, closely observing the scene within the opening. After all, this sacred spring was treasured beyond measure by the three families—ordinary family members might only witness it once in their entire lives. Naturally, none wished to miss a single moment. In fact, even young children in the families could clearly describe the spring's true appearance with ease. A water pool, three zhang long and one zhang wide, constructed entirely of pure white jade, lies deep within the basin, some dozen zhang from the edge. At first glance, only a portion of the pool contains clear, transparent spring water, so pure it seems untouched by dust. Even more remarkable is the subtle, indescribable fragrance emanating from the water, which upon inhalation leaves one feeling refreshed and invigorated. The young disciples are stirred into movement, but the middle elder—white-haired, beardless—among the three senior figures suddenly turns, his eyes flashing with sharp, piercing light, sweeping across the room. Instantly, the commotion settles. This is Huang Yuanming, a senior elder of the Huang family, whose cultivation has reached the mid-Foundational stage—indeed, one of the true first-class cultivators of Linglin Mountain. Not only do the young disciples of the Huang family revere him, but even the younger members of the Wang and Li families show him deep respect. "Heh! It's still Huang brother's authority that works—keeping these youngsters quiet and attentive." Another gray-robed elder observed the scene, narrowed his eyes, and smiled warmly. "Of course. Brother Huang's cultivation has now reached the late stage of the foundational中期 stage, hasn't it? Perhaps he might even advance further into the late foundational stage." The other elder in green robes expressed his admiration with evident enthusiasm. "You two are being overly generous," Huang Yuanming replied, with a humble, courteous smile. "I'm already this age. How could I possibly make further progress? Such an opportunity belongs to the younger generation. Let us hurry and prepare the spiritual tea so these young ones can take it. It seems the spring water in the pool has increased this year—quite a favorable development indeed." The other two elders were the foundational-stage elders from the other two families. These two families were even less fortunate than Huang's, managing only to cultivate one foundational-stage cultivator to maintain their prestige. Huang Yuanming and these two had been close friends for many years, and thus paid no mind to their earlier remarks. The other two elders also gave a slight smile, chose not to mention the matter further, and then turned to instruct their respective family's hereditary disciples specializing in brewing spiritual tea. Immediately, two disciples from each family stepped forward, flying directly toward the water pool. Yet, as everyone watched in silence, just as these disciples were approaching the edge of the spiritual pool, a remarkable incident unfolded. After the figure stepped into the water pool, he emitted a light "Ah!" and stabilized himself with a slight shift in posture. He glanced at the group of cultivators gathered before the pool, his face expressing a look of profound astonishment. The cultivators from the three families, led by Huang Yuanming, had already been so stunned that they could not utter a single word. The figure was a young man dressed in a dark green scholarly robe. Though he had been somewhat surprised to find so many cultivators present and briefly felt a touch of embarrassment, he soon regained his composure. A flash of green light passed over him, and the scholarly robe submerged in the pool instantly evaporated into a completely dry state. "Where exactly is this place? Is it still the Dong Yu Kingdom?" With a casual lift of his foot, the man floated out of the pool. Then, his gaze shifted effortlessly to Huang Yuanming, the most accomplished cultivator among the gathered ones, and asked calmly and with an air of unquestionable authority. "Is this the Ningzhou region of the Dong Yu Kingdom? I would be honored to know your esteemed name, if you could kindly share it with me." Huang Yuanning had already scanned the young man's cultivation level with his divine awareness, yet was deeply astonished—completely unable to gauge his depth at all. This clearly indicated that the man was at least a Jiandan-stage cultivator. The manner in which he had appeared was also extraordinarily strange, so Huang could not afford the slightest negligence. He bowed deeply and replied with great care and caution. The other two elders likewise sensed the profound cultivation of Han Li, and were equally struck in awe, bowing deeply and smiling warmly. "Ningzhou..." The young man blinked, his expression unchanged, yet murmured the words repeatedly, his face now showing a thoughtful expression. This man, of course, was none other than Han Li, who had just escaped from the ruins of the Ling Miao Garden. It had now been exactly twenty-seven years since the initial battle at ZhuiMo Valley.