Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

Yang didn’t know how long they stayed in the light. Time lost all meaning in that space. Colors exploded and reformed endlessly. White fracturing into countless shades before bleeding back together. An infinity of moments compressed into a single breath.

Then suddenly, the world solidified.

Yang, Li San, and Cheng Mo found themselves standing within the same circular design carved into stone. But everything else had changed. The cavern was gone. Instead, they stood in a forested clearing surrounded by massive boulders. The pillars around them had multiplied. Nearly double the number from before.

The glow in the carvings faded gradually. Like embers dying in a cold wind. The light seeped away until only faint traces remained. Then nothing.

Yang’s legs trembled. His head spun with vertigo. Beside him, Li San swayed dangerously. Only grabbing Yang’s arm kept him upright.

Cheng Mo turned to face them. His expression unreadable. ”Welcome to Xuanyu Continent.”

The words hung in the air. Heavy with implication.

”Xuanyu Continent,” Yang repeated. His voice hoarse. ”Where is it?”

”Far away from where you were originally from,” Cheng Mo replied simply.

Li San’s grip on Yang’s arm tightened. ”What was that? How did that light transport us?”

”That was an old teleportation array. Created long ago by masters whose names are now forgotten.” Cheng Mo’s gaze sharpened. ”This one is seldom used nowadays. Most people don’t even remember its location.”

He paused. Letting the weight of his next words settle. ”I suggest you keep your knowledge and awareness of the location of these arrays secret. Better you don’t go around informing everyone that you’re from another continent.”

Yang’s heart jumped. ”Will we be in danger because we’re from another continent?”

”No,” Cheng Mo said. His tone almost lazy. ”But it’s always better to not go blabbing about one’s origins to everyone you meet. Discretion serves the wise.”

Yang bowed his head. Relief and gratitude mixing in his chest. ”Thank you for the suggestion, Senior.”

Li San followed Yang’s lead. Bowing quickly. Neither wanting to offend someone who could bend reality with a gesture.

Cheng Mo led them through the forest. Yang noticed immediately how different everything was. The trees were massive. Ancient. Their trunks wide enough that three men couldn’t circle them with linked arms. The canopy above filtered sunlight into emerald shadows.

The air itself felt different. Heavier. Like breathing in liquid silk. Each breath filled Yang’s lungs with something more than oxygen. Energy hummed beneath his skin and his inner instincts purred with contentment.

They emerged into a clearing. Cheng Mo raised his hand and the translucent blue boat materialized from nothing. The same vessel that had carried them before.

Yang and Li San climbed in without prompting this time. Both settling quickly. Preparing themselves mentally for whatever came next.

The boat rose smoothly. Lifting above the treeline. Picking up speed gradually this time.

”Our destination is close,” Cheng Mo said. ”I don’t need to rush like before.”

Yang felt tension drain from his shoulders. Li San actually smiled. Relief obvious on his young face.

They flew over forests that stretched endlessly. Mountains rose in the distance and rivers carved silver paths through green valleys.

Everything seemed more. More vibrant and more alive. Like Sun City and everything before had been a faded painting. And this was the world in full color.

Yang’s chest tightened with emotion he couldn’t name. Wonder. Hope. Fear. Excitement. All tangled together until he couldn’t separate one from another.

The boat began descending. And a city came into view ahead.

Yang’s breath stopped in his throat.

The city was enormous. Impossibly vast. Sun City could have fit inside it more than a dozen times over. Walls rose so high Yang had to tilt his head back to see their tops. Buildings stretched up five, six, seven stories. Some even taller. The architecture was elaborate beyond anything Yang had imagined. Curved roofs with tiles in brilliant colors. Ornate carvings on every surface. Banners and flags streaming in the wind.

But what stole Yang’s voice entirely was what filled the sky.

People. Dozens of them. Flying.

Some rode in boats and vessels like theirs. Craft of all sizes. From small personal vessels barely larger than a person to massive ships that could carry hundreds. They moved through the air with grace

And others. Others flew on swords.

Actual people. Standing on blades that gleamed in sunlight. Flying through the air with nothing else supporting them. Their robes billowing. Their hair streaming. Moving with a freedom that made Yang’s heart ache with longing.

Li San made a sound. Half gasp, half sob. ”Yang. Yang, do you see this?”

”I see it,” Yang whispered. Unable to tear his eyes away.

”They’re flying,” Li San said. Voice trembling. ”People are flying. On swords.”

”Cultivators,” Cheng Mo said. Matter-of-fact. Like this was as common as breathing. ”Sword flight is standard for those who’ve reached Foundation Establishment and above.”

Yang’s mind reeled. Foundation Establishment. The term meant nothing to him. But it represented everything he’d been searching for. Proof that cultivation was real. That the path existed.

”The boats?” Yang asked. Throat tight. ”Can anyone use them?”

”Depends on the crafter,” Cheng Mo said. ”Some require cultivation to operate. Others can be used by mortals if they have the coin to purchase them. Quality varies widely.”

As if to illustrate his point, Yang noticed more movement in the sky. Not just vessels and swords. Some people rode on the backs of magical flying beasts.

Creatures Yang couldn’t identify. Birds larger than horses. Their wingspans incredible. Feathers in colors that hurt to look at. Some carried single riders. Others bore entire groups.

Yang recognized none of them. Didn’t even know birds could achieve such size. Could support a person’s weight while soaring through clouds.

The boat descended further. Approaching an empty area in the city. Other vessels converged on the same space. Landing and disembarking. People climbing out and going about their business.

Yang and Li San quietly followed Cheng Mo as he guided the boat down. Landing smoothly among the others. They climbed out carefully. Taking in everything with wide eyes.

The ground under their feet was stone. Perfectly cut and fitted. No gaps. No imperfections. The craftsmanship alone would have bankrupted a small village.

People moved past them. So many people. Dressed in robes of silk and brocade. Carrying weapons that gleamed with more than polish. Their faces confident. Assured. These were people who belonged here. Who knew their place in this impossible world.

Yang felt small suddenly. Insignificant. A village boy playing at being something more.

Cheng Mo led them through streets toward the city center. Yang tried to absorb everything. The shops selling spirit herbs he couldn’t name. Weapons that radiated power. Talismans and scrolls covered in characters he couldn’t read.

Street vendors called out their wares. Tea that could extend life. Pills that strengthened the body. Techniques that promised mastery of fire and water and earth.

Yang’s head spun. This was beyond anything he’d imagined. Beyond the web novels from his previous life. This was real. Tangible. And most importantly achievable.

They reached an inn. Larger and more ornate than Grey Thorn could ever dream of being. Three stories of polished wood and painted beams. Gardens visible through open gates. The sound of running water and distant music.

Cheng Mo approached the innkeeper. A middle-aged man in fine robes who bowed respectfully.

Cheng Mo tossed something at him. A stone. It caught the light strangely. The innkeeper’s eyes widened. Shock crossing his face.

”Your finest courtyard,” Cheng Mo said. ”For ten days.”

The innkeeper bowed deeper. ”Of course, honored senior! Right this way! Immediately!”

He led them through the inn. Past common areas where people drank and talked. Past smaller rooms and gardens. To a section that made Yang’s throat close.

The courtyard was massive. Private. Enclosed by high walls. A garden filled one section. Carefully maintained plants and a small pond with fish that gleamed like living jewels. The courtyard itself had a covered walkway. Rooms branching off. Everything was immaculate. Perfect. Wealthy beyond anything Yang had experienced.

Even with his memories from two lives. Even with his knowledge of cultivation from web novels. This exceeded his imagination.

The innkeeper showed them the receiving room. Bowing and explaining features Yang barely heard. Then he left. Closing the door softly behind him.

Cheng Mo took a seat at the head of a low table. Yang and Li San stood before him. Something told Yang it would be disrespectful to sit uninvited. Li San followed his lead without question.

”You are intuitive,” Cheng Mo observed. Looking at Yang. ”It will serve you well.”

Then Cheng Mo addressed them both. His expression growing serious. ”This is Tianlu City. A trade hub. Ships leave here for almost every kingdom and major city in Xuanyu Continent.”

He reached into his robes and tossed a heavy pouch to Yang.

”I owed you a boon,” Cheng Mo said. ”This is the extent of my help. From now on, you make and decide your own path. For better or worse.”

Yang’s hands trembled around the pouch. ”Senior, I—”

”The courtyard is booked for ten days,” Cheng Mo continued. ”The funds should last you a year if you’re careful. What you make of this opportunity depends entirely on you.”

He gestured broadly. ”You may stay here and seek your fortune. Or make your way anywhere else and seek a sect. The choice is yours.”

Yang bowed deeply. ”Thank you, Senior. May I ask... are you from a sect?”

Cheng Mo laughed. The sound genuinely amused. ”Yes. I am from a sect.”

Yang’s heart leaped. ”Could we—”

”That’s where my help ends,” Cheng Mo said firmly. ”I can’t help you further. The rest depends on fate. And I don’t believe you have any fate with my sect.”

His gaze shifted to Li San briefly. Something dismissive in his expression. ”Your friend is an even worse candidate. Taking you there or even discussing it is nothing but a waste of time.”

Yang felt Li San stiffen beside him. But his friend remained quiet. Smart enough to understand that this opportunity came through Yang. That Cheng Mo tolerated him only as Yang’s companion.

”Can we both become cultivators?” Yang asked. The question that mattered most.

”You should be able to,” Cheng Mo said to Yang. Then glanced at Li San. ”Him, I’m uncertain. It can be checked by sects before they allow entrance tests.”

”What kind of tests?” Yang pressed. ”Should we prepare something?”

”There’s nothing you can prepare that will impress any sect,” Cheng Mo said. Blunt but not unkind. ”The tests only determine if a prospective disciple is suitable for that particular sect. Every sect has their own requirements. Their own methods and standards for accepting disciples.”

Cheng Mo stood. The movement fluid and graceful. ”Normally I would not say this,” he said. Looking directly at Yang. ”But I have a feeling we’ll see each other again one day.”

Then he simply left. Like a streak of light. One moment present. The next, gone. Leaving only the faint scent of paint and possibility.

Yang and Li San stood alone in the receiving room. In a courtyard worth more than their entire village. In a city where people flew on swords. On a continent impossibly far from everything they’d known.

Li San broke the silence first. ”Yang. What just happened?”

Yang looked at his friend. At his brother. And smiled. Despite the fear and uncertainty. 

”We found the path forward,” Yang said simply.

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