Daily life of a cultivation judge

With this unexpected gift, he could afford to be less conservative, using one of the originals for testing his ideas without fear of depleting his resources too quickly. This doubled his chances of elevating the art further in a short span—assuming his accumulations were sufficient.

"How did it do that?" Yang Qing murmured, his shining eyes fixed on the elm tree.

With how ecstatic he felt, about its 'gift' he wanted to go hug it, as a show of thanks, but his cowardly nature would not allow him to.

As grateful as he was to the point that he even dared entertain dangerous thoughts, like potentially uprooting it and planting it back at his abode, Yang Qing would not approach it, turning a deaf ear, to the whispers of his greedy heart.

For now, he contented himself with marveling at the miraculous parchment in his hands, his heart brimming with gratitude and a tinge of awe.

He gave the parchment another once over, committing every sentence to mind even if he already knew it by heart. He did that for almost an hour, before finally, tearing his attention away from the parchment as he carefully rolled it up, and stored it away in his storage ring.

Despite the boon he had gotten, he had still not forgotten he was an unfamiliar place that had the potential to hide countless dangers, though, thanks to recent events, he was less tense about it.

Yang Qing cast a curious look at the elm, a glint of greed and anticipation flashing in his briefly, before he forcefully tore his away, choosing to move onwards, in the hopes he could maybe find a way out of this place, or find something that would at least shed a light on where he was.

Yang Qing walked for a few minutes before he came across a thatched hut, which was made of what looked to be bamboo and papyrus reeds. That was what it looked like at first, but when he looked closer, what he thought were bamboo were actually tubes meant for storing scrolls, and the papyrus were parchments that had been beaten by the sun and the elements till they gained a plant-like quality.

Yang Qing paused his steps, looking apprehensive, because that hut, just like the elm tree, had completely evaded his palace sense, and he wasn't sure why, but deep down, there was a voice telling him that hut was a thousand times more mysterious than the elm tree. Which was unimaginable to Yang Qing, considering what he had seen the elm tree do just a few minutes ago.

Yang Qing gulped nervously, seemingly debating whether to walk toward the hut or quickly leave the area. Outwardly it looked harmless, it looked simple, peaceful even, like a place Yang Qing would have a comfortable nap in thanks to the cozy aura it radiated, and the sound of the waterfall that was a few meters next to it. But the fact that Yang Qing couldn't sense it, made him hesitant.

Eventually, a bit of greed and curiosity warmed its way through his thoughts, as he imagined the hut unlike its simple look, likely hid unimaginable wealth and treasures within it. That thought burrowed its way at the forefront, twisting and eroding whatever caution he had, and it wasn't long before he rationalized that going to the hut was actually a good idea.

Still armed with his bamboo, as he plastered his body with a few talismans aimed at helping him make a quick getaway if need be, Yang Qing cautiously walked towards the hut.

"Hello, is anybody there?" Yang Qing cautiously called out, making sure his tone sounded as friendly as possible.

"This junior's name is Yang Qing, please forgive my intrusion and trespassing, but I don't know where I am, and I was looking for some help," he added, as he paused his footsteps, waiting to see if a reply would come from the hut.

There was no reply. Yang Qing waited for a few minutes before asking the same question.

"Is there anyone here?" he asked, his voice veritably becoming softer than the first time as he kept looking around him, his body taut, waiting for an attack.

The awaited reply didn't come again, putting Yang Qing at a crossroads. The lack of reply could mean one of two things, either there was no one in the hut, or there was someone in the hut, and for one reason or another, they couldn't give him a response. Either they were in deep seclusion, and thus were unable to do so, or they simply deigned to give Yang Qing a reply, meaning he was a bother.

One or both of these scenarios meant he would suffer a horrible fate if he continued moving toward the hut.

Cautious reason told him to walk away, but another voice kept urging him forward and for some reason, he obliged it, as he executed the phantom void steps to the maximum, so as to muffle his steps and reduce his presence as he walked to the hut.

As he walked towards the hut, he could have sworn he heard his cowardly spirit snort at him in disdain and disappointment. It even seemed to have also cursed him the process, as his heart beat louder than usual which only multiplied Yang Qing's tense state, as he worried his heart would give him away, rendering all his other preparations at a covert sneak, useless.

Though his earlier actions of calling out and announcing himself had already rendered a covert entry, moot. In his highly tense state, maybe hearing his cowardly spirit snort, and him scolding his heart, was his way of coping with what he was about to do.

It was already too late to turn back now, so he steeled himself and walked the last few steps leading to the hut. It was just seven steps, but he felt as if he had scaled to the heavens with how tired his body, mind, and spirit, felt.

Taking what could be potentially his last breath, Yang Qing took a slow deep breath, before walking through the entrance of the hut.

When he took that step, crossing the border of the entrance, his body froze, because of what caught his eyes the moment he did.