Chapter 142: Chance Encounter

"We have already walked all the way to Nanshan Temple?"

The Yanyan Mountain Range is rich in spiritual energy. Aside from the Abyss Sect, which is one of the six major sects, there are also the Ziyang Sect, the Profound Wonder Gate, and a slew of nameless minor mountain gates and small Daoist temples.

Nanshan Temple is one of the few that leaves a relatively deep impression on local cultivators. It serves as a sort of landmark. Seeing it signals to the cultivators exploring the mountain range that heading any further south means leaving the boundaries of the Yanyan Mountain Range altogether.

Such small temples are little different from groups of rogue cultivators banded together. There are usually only a dozen or twenty people inside, rarely exceeding a hundred at most. The temple master's cultivation ranges anywhere from the late stage of Qi Refining to the Foundation Establishment realm.

As Nanshan Temple declined with each passing generation, by this current generation, it seemed that only a single cultivator at the peak of the Qi Refining stage remained to serve as the temple master. That temple master seemed to have the surname Lu, and was called Lu Yuan...

Back when Song Yan was still an outer sect disciple, he had undertaken numerous sect missions. A portion of these were commissions arising from small surrounding sects and temples seeking help from the Abyss Sect due to a shortage of cultivators. These were trivial, mundane tasks such as collecting pelts from low-tier fierce beasts, gathering spiritual herbs for refining low-tier elixirs, or even helping to search for lost disciples.

During one particular mission handover, Song Yan had met this Temple Master Lu. The man was amiable and kind-hearted, treating the disciples in his temple almost as if they were his own children. Even when receiving an inconspicuous outer sect disciple like Song Yan, he had still served a cup of spiritual tea. Because of this, Song Yan's impression of him was exceptionally profound.

Cultivators from major sects naturally enjoyed the cool shade of a towering tree, making many things quite convenient. But small temples like this were different. With a dozen or so cultivators huddling together for warmth, a shortage of all kinds of spiritual resources was entirely normal. In the precarious world of immortality, lacking capital meant sorrow in all worldly endeavors.

"I've walked a bit too far."

Song Yan turned around and walked toward the northeast.

In the warm spring sunlight, mottled light filtered through the forest canopy. Not long after walking and passing through a clump of bushes, he suddenly heard the sound of clear, tinkling stream water mixed with faint, suppressed gasps.

Following the sound, he looked over.

A shaded trail, a clear stream flowing over stones.

A young girl was curled up on a blue boulder beside the stream, her robes and pleated skirt rolled up to her knees, revealing a pale, frail