ARK SPIRIT

Three days after returning from Thanh Van Town, Hao Nhien still had not gone back to the white sand beneath the waterfall.

Not because he was afraid.

After Uncle That’s warning, he simply no longer wanted to take the mountain’s quietness for granted.

During those three days, Hao Nhien stayed mostly around the boat.

In the daytime, he practiced his three basic strikes and three steps on the riverbank, no longer pushing his body to its limits as he had before. At night, he continued his breathing cultivation, allowing spiritual qi to enter through the qi-entry points, retaining what he could and slowly refining it into true qi.

The rest of his time was spent gathering information.

Uncle That still needed to recover and could not return to the mountain, but other hunters continued to move through the outer forest. Hao Nhien did not question them too directly. He simply visited a few times with Tieu Lan, listened to their scattered conversations, and pieced the information together himself.

Over those three days, no one else encountered an Ironhide Black Wolf. No large vicious beasts had come near the town either. Several hunters passed through the outer forest without seeing anything unusual. Only the deeper area toward the old waterfall remained a place few people willingly entered.

That was not enough to say the mountain was safe.

But at least the situation had not grown worse.

Hao Nhien was in no hurry.

After his previous breakthrough, he had come to understand more clearly that cultivation did not mean forcing himself to the edge every single day.

The lighter training near the boat gave his body time to stabilize. The true qi in his lower abdomen gradually grew fuller, while the circulation through his chest, throat, and the bridge of his nose became smoother.

The change became especially clear on the third night.

Hao Nhien had no intention of attempting another breakthrough. He simply sat on the deck, keeping his breathing steady as spiritual qi slowly entered from outside. Some of it remained within him. Some was refined into true qi.

No forcing.

No compression.

No attempt to drive it through any obstruction.

Yet when the flow of true qi passed through his chest, Hao Nhien suddenly realized that the familiar tightness there had faded considerably.

He did not interfere.

He simply kept breathing.

One circulation.

Then another.

Pressure within his meridians gradually increased on its own.

It was nothing like the previous time, when he had repeatedly driven true qi against a single obstruction.

This time, it was like a lake rising after days of rain.

Little by little.

So slowly that the change was almost impossible to notice—until the old bank finally softened on its own.

A faint sound came from somewhere inside his body.

There was no pain.

Nothing violent.

Only a sudden sense of openness spreading from his chest into his throat before flowing back toward his lower abdomen.

Hao Nhien kept his eyes closed and allowed the true qi to circulate several more times.

The flow that had once felt slightly scattered gradually became clearer and steadier. Each circulation met less resistance, and his breathing deepened without effort.

Only after a long time did Hao Nhien slowly open his eyes.

The river was still dark.

The night wind still blew.

The old boat still rocked gently with the current.

There had been no strange phenomenon.

Only his body had changed.

The third layer of Qi Condensation.

Hao Nhien lowered his gaze to his hands.

Three days without returning to the mountain.

Three days without driving himself to exhaustion.

And yet he had advanced another layer.

The thought left him silent for quite some time.

Perhaps sometimes slowing down did not mean stopping.

It simply gave what he had already accumulated enough time to truly become part of him.

The next morning, Hao Nhien finally decided to return to the Thanh Van waterfall.

But he had no intention of immediately throwing himself back into training.

Today, he only wanted to survey the area.

Check the training ground.

Look for signs of beasts.

Find possible escape routes.

And determine whether the place could still be used safely.

If anything seemed wrong, he would turn back immediately.

Tieu Lan was already waiting behind him with a small basket over one shoulder. Inside were an herb knife, drinking water, a little food, and the two medical books they had bought in town. Over the past three days, she had read Common Medicinal Herbs of Thanh Van Mountain almost every day, sometimes comparing the illustrations against the dried herbs they already had.

When she noticed Hao Nhien looking at her, she immediately said,

”I’m coming too.”

”We might encounter vicious beasts.”

”I know.” Tieu Lan tightened her grip on the basket strap. ”I’ll stay right behind Young Master. If we have to run, I’ll run.”

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Hao Nhien looked at her for a moment.

She was clearly worried, but had no intention of staying behind.

”Young Master is going to check the training ground because of what Uncle That said, right?” Tieu Lan asked softly. ”If you go alone, I won’t be able to sit peacefully on the boat. I can recognize herbs and look for tracks. And if something really happens, at least someone can run back and call Uncle That.”

Her reasoning was not entirely without merit.

Tieu Lan knew the forest better than he did in certain ways, especially when it came to medicinal herbs and subtle changes in plants.

In the end, Hao Nhien nodded.

”All right. But remember three things. Stay within three steps of me. Don’t pick anything unfamiliar without permission. And if I tell you to run, run immediately. No questions. Don’t look back.”

”I remember.”

”This isn’t another day out.”

Tieu Lan nodded seriously.

”I know.”

They left the boat while morning mist still covered the Thanh Van River.

After so many days of traveling back and forth, the path toward the foot of the mountain had become familiar. But today, Hao Nhien no longer saw it simply as the road to his training ground. He watched the damp soil, the low bushes, and every trace left along the roadside.

The outer forest seemed normal.

Birds still called from the high branches, and the waterfall could be heard steadily in the distance. There were only a few small tracks belonging to ordinary birds and animals. No large claw marks, no scattered fur, no fresh gouges in the ground.

When they reached the white sand beneath the waterfall, Hao Nhien stopped.

The footprints from his earlier training were still there, though wind and mist had softened them. The lake remained clear. The waterfall continued to pour. The white sand lay as empty as before.

If he had known nothing about the Ironhide Black Wolf or the Great White Ape, he might still have considered this an almost perfect place to train.

Tieu Lan looked around as well.

”At least there aren’t any new beast tracks here.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

”We’ll only check the edge of the forest behind the waterfall, then head back. We won’t go deeper.”

”Yes.”

They followed the forest edge along the right side of the lake.

Tieu Lan had visited this area before to gather herbs, but she had never gone far. Hao Nhien walked in front while she remained only a few steps behind.

After about a quarter of an hour, Tieu Lan suddenly stopped.

”Young Master.”

Hao Nhien turned.

She was staring at a dense patch of bushes pressed against the cliff.

”The leaves near the ground are moving differently from the ones above.”

Hao Nhien followed her gaze.

”Wind?”

”I think so.” Tieu Lan tilted her head and listened. ”It feels like the air is coming from behind the bushes.”

Vines covered part of the cliff face. Without paying close attention, the place looked no different from any other corner of the forest. But Tieu Lan was right. Several thin vines near the ground were swaying to a different rhythm from the leaves above them.

Hao Nhien approached but did not touch them with his hands. Instead, he picked up a dry branch and pushed the vines aside.

A small cave entrance appeared behind them.

The opening was low, barely large enough for one person to enter while bent over. Green moss and rotting leaves covered the edges, and there were no fresh footprints or large claw marks in the damp soil outside.

Hao Nhien crouched and examined the area more closely.

No droppings.

No fur.

No scattered bones.

A faint cold breeze drifted from within, suggesting that the passage might lead somewhere rather than ending in a sealed chamber.

Tieu Lan stood behind him.

”Are we going in?”

Hao Nhien considered it for a moment.

”Only for a short distance. If it goes too deep or anything looks wrong, we turn back immediately.”

”I’m coming with you.”

”Stay close.”

He bent down and entered first.

The cave was dark and damp. After a few steps, Hao Nhien’s eyes began adjusting to the darkness, while Tieu Lan took out a small lamp she had brought with her. Its weak glow illuminated only a few steps around them, but it was enough to see the stone floor.

The passage was narrow, yet ancient marks of wear could be seen along the walls and ground—different from what one would expect in a completely natural cave.

Hao Nhien did not draw any conclusion.

He simply remembered it.

A large bat suddenly swept over their heads.

Tieu Lan startled, nearly grabbing the back of Hao Nhien’s robe.

He turned around.

”Just a bat.”

Tieu Lan flushed slightly.

Hao Nhien did not tease her. He simply slowed his pace.

The passage gradually sloped upward. The breeze grew clearer, and after a fairly long stretch, natural light appeared ahead.

Hao Nhien stepped out first.

Beyond the cave was a flat ledge enclosed by steep rock walls. Short grass covered the ground, with a few shrubs growing from cracks in the stone. From here, they could clearly see the white sand below the waterfall, the lake, and even part of the road leading toward Thanh Van Town.

Yet from below, the ledge was almost completely hidden by protruding rock and dense tree canopies.

A good place to observe from.

And an equally good place to hide.

Tieu Lan stepped out behind him. The tension on her face quickly softened as she took in the view.

”It’s beautiful…”

Morning mist still floated across the valley. Sunlight passed through the spray around the waterfall, leaving behind the faintest trace of a rainbow. From this height, the water no longer thundered as it did below. Its sound rose toward them as a deep, steady murmur.

Hao Nhien watched for a moment, then began inspecting the area.

Tieu Lan, however, was quickly drawn to a cluster of plants growing from a crack in the rock nearby.

”Young Master, there are medicinal herbs over there.”

She immediately pulled out Common Medicinal Herbs of Thanh Van Mountain, flipped through several pages, then compared the illustration with the long-leafed plants growing from the stone.

”Willowleaf Grass.”

Tieu Lan pointed to the slightly curved edges of the leaves.

”It can be used for injuries to the muscles and tendons. It isn’t very valuable, but the book says it grows well in damp places. If we can bring some back and grow it near the boat, we won’t have to come up the mountain as often to gather it.”

Hao Nhien looked at where the plants were growing.

Not very high.

But high enough that climbing would be unsafe for Tieu Lan.

”You stay down here.”

”Yes.”

Hao Nhien guided true qi into his legs to steady himself, then climbed along the protrusions in the rock face. After reaching the third layer of Qi Condensation, the strength in his legs and fingers had improved considerably, but he still moved carefully.

Following Tieu Lan’s instructions, he dug up each plant together with the soil around its roots.

Four in total.

When he handed them down, Tieu Lan was so careful that she barely let the roots touch the inside of the basket.

”Don’t celebrate yet. There’s no guarantee they’ll survive after we bring them back.”

”I can keep them alive.”

Her answer was firm.

Hao Nhien laughed.

He was about to climb down when he noticed that the patch of earth he had dug away revealed a strangely flat section of stone behind it.

Hao Nhien stopped and used the small shovel to clear away more soil and moss.

A gray stone surface gradually appeared.

It did not look natural.

He continued clearing it.

Damp soil and rotting leaves peeled away in clumps, revealing a large stone slab resting against the cliff.

In front of the slab were two depressions.

Shaped like human feet.

Hao Nhien climbed down and approached.

The two footprints were deeply pressed into the stone, yet there were no signs of chiseling around the edges, nor the cracks that would normally appear if the rock had been broken by brute force.

It was as though those marks had simply been there for an impossibly long time.

Tieu Lan crouched beside them and looked closely before raising her head.

”Young Master… are these really footprints?”

”It looks that way.”

”Can someone really stand in one place long enough for stone to remember their feet?”

Hao Nhien did not answer.

He lightly touched the edge of one footprint with his fingertip.

There was only a stillness that seemed to have rested here for far too long.

Hao Nhien withdrew his hand and looked toward the upper part of the stone slab.

After wiping away more moss and washing off the dust with a little water from the bamboo tube, ancient characters gradually appeared.

Tieu Lan stood beside him in silence.

Hao Nhien read each line slowly.

”For five hundred years, I stood in this place,

watching mountains and rivers change, comprehending the Laws of Heaven and Earth.

Alas, my lifespan has reached its end, yet my wish remains unfulfilled.

To the fated one who comes after: roam the world, or follow your heart.”

Beneath the inscription were four characters:

Nhat Kiem Tieu Dao.

The mountain wind swept across the ledge.

Hao Nhien stood before the stone for a long time.

Five hundred years standing in this place.

Watching mountains and rivers change.

Comprehending the Laws of Heaven and Earth.

His lifespan exhausted, yet his wish still unfulfilled.

Hao Nhien did not know what the Laws of Heaven and Earth were.

Nor did he know what realm someone named Nhat Kiem Tieu Dao must have reached to leave footprints like these in solid stone.

But a person who could remain here for five hundred years had still left behind the words my wish remains unfulfilled.

That alone was enough to leave Hao Nhien silent.

Tieu Lan asked softly,

”Young Master, was this senior very powerful?”

”Very.”

”How powerful?”

Hao Nhien shook his head.

”I don’t know.”

He truly did not.

What little he understood about cultivation was nowhere near enough to judge someone who could speak of the Laws of Heaven and Earth.

But those four words were not what held Hao Nhien’s attention most.

It was the final line.

Roam the world, or follow your heart.

He read it again.

If one day he too had to spend a hundred years—or a thousand—searching for an answer, Hao Nhien did not know whether he would choose to remain in one place as this senior had.

But at least for now, he still wanted to move forward.

He wanted to see how vast this world truly was.

He wanted to know where the Thanh Van River would eventually lead.

He wanted to find the people he needed to find.

And he wanted answers to the things that still lay beyond his understanding.

Hao Nhien said softly,

”Senior, I’ll remember your words.”

His hand moved across the final line.

The instant his fingertips touched the words fated one—

the stone slab trembled faintly.

Crack.