Chapter 119: The Autumn Hunt

A flash of brilliance swept by, and the scenery before them shifted instantly. In the middle of an ocean with boundless green waves, an island suddenly appeared.

The island was long and narrow, shaped like a bull's horn, a hook of the moon, or a bent bow. It stretched from north to south, spanning no more than two or three hundred miles at its widest point from east to west, yet it was over a thousand miles long from north to south. It was truly a mystery how the Xiao family had managed to acquire such a massive island.

The island was covered in towering mulberry and maple trees. Though it was autumn, the landscape remained lush and green, yet it was interspersed with shades of red and yellow, making it exceptionally vibrant. There were mountains and lakes, meadows and dense forests across the vast expanse. Under the canopy of trees, one could vaguely see various strange birds and beasts galloping through the brush.

The two landed on a flat patch of grass at the southernmost tip, where many young people had already gathered.

Shortly after they touched down, someone recognized Xiao Shiniang. After all, she was ranked sixth among those who had submitted their performance reports; those who ranked lower hoped to turn the tables during the Autumn Hunt, while those who ranked higher were worried that her strong performance might eventually surpass them.

Seeing she had brought along an unfamiliar man, people gathered around to inquire about which expert she had invited.

"Qingshen Mountain, Cheng Qiezhan."

It was a name no one had ever heard of.

Before long, one hundred young members of the Xiao family—all of whom had been sent away to manage businesses and had returned to report—along with one hundred outsiders invited as assistants for the Autumn Hunt, were all present.

With two hundred people gathered, Cheng Xinzhan stood idly by, scanning the surroundings. To his surprise, he spotted several familiar figures—disciples of the righteous path who had fought in the rotational battles at West Kunlun. However, his current appearance was vastly different from his true self or how he had looked during the latter half of his time at Kunlun, so he did not step forward to greet them.

As his gaze wandered, he discovered another peculiar figure he had seen long ago. It was a man as thin and tall as a bamboo pole. However, the face did not quite match.

*Is it such a coincidence?*

Cheng Xinzhan activated his Nine Suns Returning Form Pupils. Three cinnabar suns flashed in his left eye, and the face of the thin man was reflected within his pupil, slowly shifting until it transformed into a visage familiar to Cheng Xinzhan.

His cheekbones were high and prominent, skin stretched tight over bone, resembling a skull.

"It really is you," he muttered. "The Thin Daoist."

At that very moment, the Thin Daoist seemed to sense something and immediately looked toward Cheng Xinzhan's direction. Cheng Xinzhan, however, instantly retracted his pupils and looked elsewhere.

"Greetings, Elder."

A wave of respectful voices rose up. Suddenly, a sturdy, bald old man appeared before the crowd. A large bow was strapped to his back, and his cultivation level was impossible to discern.

"That is an elder of our Xiao family," Shiniang explained to Cheng Xinzhan. "He has been in the Third Realm for over a hundred years. He is a master of body refinement."

The bald old man faced the crowd, cupped his hands, and smiled. "Welcome, guests, to Changqing Island to participate in the Xiao family's Autumn Hunt ceremony. To show our gratitude, we present you with VIP tokens of our Haiqing City."

The old man waved his hand, sending many tokens floating into the air. Many guest disciples immediately used their arcane energy to snatch them up. This was the very reason they had come to the Xiao family’s hunt; these tokens offered a twenty-percent discount on purchases in Haiqing City and were highly sought-after items.

Cheng Xinzhan took one as well. He toyed with it and found that, aside from the patterns, there was little difference between it and the tokens from the Peacock City lord’s manor.

"Xinzhan, you already have a token from the Peacock City lord's manor; that is far more useful than this," Shiniang noted.

Cheng Xinzhan put the token away. He had not come for this, after all.

"The rules of our Xiao family’s Autumn Hunt are simple. My clansmen have surely told you, so I will not repeat them. After the arrow sounds, you may all display your prowess!"

With that, the old man drew his bow and fired an arrow into the sky. It seemed to be a ritual passed down since ancient times.

The arrow whistled through the air, and the crowd surged forward like arrows released from a string, speeding toward the north.

Over the past two days, Xiao Shiniang had already explained the rules of the Autumn Hunt to Cheng Xinzhan. Changqing Island was shaped like a crescent moon, and they had started at the southern tip. Along the way, there were many spirit beasts, but they were only permitted to hunt those marked with white powder on their foreheads.

There were one hundred Xiao family disciples participating, but only fifty spirit beasts were marked with the white powder. Furthermore, the Xiao family elders would use magic to drive all the spirit beasts on the island toward the north. In the northernmost twenty-mile radius, there was a forest; once a beast entered this forest, the participants were forbidden from hunting it.

Because marked beasts were scarce, participants were allowed to contest them, but they were strictly forbidden from taking human lives.

Beyond that, hidden on the island were two wood spirits birthed from spirit plants. According to Shiniang, these had appeared in various forms in the past—green snakes from bamboo, black bears from pine trees, water buffalo from mulberry trees, and butterflies from spirit flowers; they were different every time.

The importance of a spirit plant capable of birthing a wood spirit was self-evident to anyone practicing Wood-Grafting Arts. The rule was that whoever caught a wood spirit kept it. Capturing one wood spirit counted as ten marked spirit beasts, and catching both would instantly declare one the winner of the hunt. However, wood spirits were not marked and were adept at disguise, appearing no different from ordinary spirit beasts. The Xiao family decreed that if one caught an ordinary beast instead of a wood spirit, not only would there be no reward, but they would face a penalty, becoming the greatest loser of the hunt.

Xiao Shiniang and Cheng Xinzhan sped through the woods, with Doggy racing beneath them. Hearing the commotion of beasts fleeing, the dog was extremely excited.

"Shiniang," Cheng Xinzhan said, "you keep an eye out for the marked beasts. Doggy will help you. I will go search for the wood spirits."

Shiniang nodded in agreement. However, in previous years, rarely had anyone managed to catch a wood spirit, so she did not hold high expectations.

No sooner had Cheng Xinzhan finished speaking than he vanished. Shiniang watched his retreating back, blinking in surprise—he was going to search for the wood spirits all alone?

Once out of Shiniang's sight, Cheng Xinzhan activated his Nine Suns Returning Form Pupils to search carefully. He did not stray too far, knowing that competition was allowed; if Shiniang were disturbed, he could arrive instantly.

As it turned out, his caution was justified. He had only been gone for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea when he heard Doggy’s barking.

He arrived in a mere three or four breaths. Upon reaching the scene, he saw four people surrounding Shiniang—two Xiao family disciples and two guest disciples.

Doggy had a bloody scratch on his forehead, baring his fangs and growling at the four. Underneath him, he was protecting a purple sable marked with a smear of white powder on its forehead. It seemed to have been bitten in the neck by Doggy and was now lying there, breathing its last.

"Shiniang, why is your guest not guarding you?" one of the Xiao disciples asked. "But your dog is quite something. Finding a spirit beast right at the start... how about selling it to me?"

Xiao Shiniang looked at them with disgust and did not answer; it seemed their relationship was poor under normal circumstances.

Shiniang’s method of combat was quite interesting. She scattered seeds from the pouch at her waist, animating them with wood-based magic. As soon as the seeds touched the ground, poisonous vines and flowers sprouted. The flowers sprayed colorful toxic powder, while the vines, guided by the hand seals she cast, moved like snakes to entangle and like whips to lash out.

The Xiao family man countered by casting a net woven from copper coins strung together with red cords. Sparks of thunder-fire crackled along the cords, and as it fell upon Shiniang’s plants, they were scorched black instantly. Red cords and copper coins, infused with thunder-fire—it was clearly a treasure bought from Longhu Mountain. Longhu Mountain’s wares were always expensive; the Xiao family was indeed wealthy.

The other Xiao disciple, a woman, used a magic fan that emitted waves of fire. Shiniang was casting her own spells, while the others relied on the power of their magic artifacts. With fire countering wood, they quickly gained the upper hand.

The two guest disciples did not attack Shiniang, letting the Xiao family members handle the fight. However, seeing Doggy still guarding the spirit beast, they looked on with disdain. One of them threw a silver-white talisman that slashed toward the dog like a blade, while the other used a capturing technique, condensing mana into a giant hand, seemingly intending to grab both the dog and the sable.

Doggy was not simple either. Seeing their actions, he did not dodge; instead, he opened his mouth to bite. A vague, shadowy projection of a giant beast appeared in the void, swallowing the silver talisman in one gulp before snapping at the giant hand of mana.

*Whoosh—*

Deep in the woods, the group suddenly heard the sound of rushing water. They looked around, only to see a great river surging toward them. *Where could a river come from in the forest?*

The river existed between the real and the illusory. The sound of the waves was deafening, yet the river flowed through the trees without affecting them in the slightest, appearing surreal.

"Who is playing tricks?!" someone shouted, assuming it was an illusion.

The river arrived in the blink of an eye. Xiao Shiniang, with her back to the river, was the first to make contact, yet nothing happened to her.

"It really is just a bluffing illusion. Shiniang, is this your guest?" the Xiao disciple laughed.

But his smile froze on his face as the river water touched him. The two Xiao family members felt as if they had fallen into an ice cellar; white frost covered their bodies, and they collapsed to the ground, shivering.

The two guest disciples were more alert. Sensing the icy mana seeping into their bones before the river even touched them, they scrambled to flee. But suddenly, the surface of the river rippled with shimmering light, dancing like the reflection of a bright moon.

The next moment, the shimmering light converged into a clear image of the moon. High above the river, where the moon’s reflection aligned, a real moon appeared. Even in the daylight, it radiated a faint, glowing brilliance.

The two fleeing men glanced back, but to them, the object hanging in the sky was no moon—it was a sharp, chilling sword intent piercing toward them. They activated their magic artifacts to block the moonlight, but this delay allowed the river to sweep over them. Within the river, they felt a new change: it was not just freezing cold; every wave was clearly a blade of sword energy. The waves of sword energy were continuous, forming a momentum, one after another, while the sword intent from the sky pressed down on them, leaving them unable to defend themselves.

"Fellow Daoist, please stop! We admit defeat and will leave at once!" one of them shouted.

The moment the words left his lips, the river and the moon vanished, as if they had truly been a mere illusion. Seizing the chance to breathe, the four fled in haste.

From the direction the river had come, a young man with an ordinary face walked through the air. Seeing Cheng Xinzhan, Xiao Shiniang stopped casting her spells. She looked at her own hands, thinking, *Why does my magic seem like child's play compared to his?*

"I knew Xinzhan was skilled in thunder-fire and sword talismans, but when did his water magic become so powerful?" she asked curiously.

Cheng Xinzhan smiled. "The sages said: 'After three days of separation, a scholar must be viewed with new eyes.'"

She smiled back, "Xinzhan learns magic at a thousand miles a day; three days are hardly needed."

Shiniang landed beside Doggy and used a shimmer of mysterious light to heal the wound on the dog’s forehead. Doggy, acting as if he were presenting a treasure, bit the purple sable and handed it to her.

"Good boy." Shiniang had not expected to make a catch so early.

The two continued on, though Cheng Xinzhan did not leave Shiniang’s side again. After traveling another four or five hundred miles—more than halfway through the journey—with no further success, they suddenly saw shadows and heard the roar of beasts ahead, as if a chase or a battle was underway.

They exchanged a glance and flew over. Upon closer inspection, they saw fifty or sixty people chasing a herd of three or four hundred beasts—wolves, tigers, leopards, deer, and horses, all mixed together.

Cheng Xinzhan and Shiniang saw at once that about a dozen of them had white powder on their foreheads; it seemed the beasts had huddled together during their flight. The people chasing them were hesitant, afraid that if they attacked, they would injure the ordinary beasts and suffer a loss.

Cheng Xinzhan noticed the Thin Daoist among them.

As Cheng Xinzhan watched, the Thin Daoist made his move. He took out a banner that also looked familiar to Cheng Xinzhan. With a shake of the banner, many beast souls drifted out.

Over the years, the Thin Daoist’s cultivation and artifacts had clearly improved. Once the beast souls emerged, they gradually solidified until they were indistinguishable from real spirit beasts and landed on the ground.

These beast souls—tigers and leopards—dove into the herd, headed straight for the dozen marked beasts, and under the gaze of everyone, sank their fangs into the necks of the spirit beasts.

All thirteen marked beasts were taken by the Thin Daoist alone.

As the real herd fled into the distance, leaving only the Thin Daoist’s beast souls holding the prey, the remaining people surrounded him with malicious intent.

The Thin Daoist chuckled, unfazed. He shook his banner again, and over a hundred beast souls drifted out, surrounding him—each one fierce and menacing, ready to devour anyone who dared approach.