Chapter Seven: Fleeing Through the Mountain Forest

Nan Luo kept a close watch on the Great Immortal Goat, well aware of his ability to burrow into the earth, and thus remained doubly cautious. So, the very moment a yellow mist rose around the Great Immortal Goat, Nan Luo darted aside. A streak of yellow smoke shot past him, startling Nan Luo. As soon as he regained his composure, the Great Immortal Goat, still shrouded in mist, charged at him again. Nan Luo dodged in haste.

This happened again and again. Nan Luo realized that the Great Immortal Goat had mastered but this one technique. Although the goat, wrapped in yellow mist, was swift, Nan Luo himself had made great strides since entering the Qi Refinement stage. His reflexes and speed had improved significantly. Despite the awkwardness of each evasion, he managed to narrowly escape every time.

“Hey! Great Immortal Goat, if you keep ramming me, I’ll strike back!” Gasping for breath, Nan Luo planted his wooden staff in the ground, pointed at the goat, and shouted.

The Great Immortal Goat was also panting heavily, the mist around him thinning. Hearing Nan Luo’s words, he seemed furious; the yellow mist flashed again, and he appeared behind Nan Luo, his hard horns thrusting fiercely.

But Nan Luo, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, spun around instantly, sidestepped, and avoided the ferocious charge. His wooden staff lashed out like lightning, striking the yellow mist. It felt as if he was hitting water—no force transmitted at all. Though his eyes confirmed he struck the goat’s back, the staff landed on the earth behind the goat.

After several more futile attempts, Nan Luo understood that without another method, he simply couldn’t touch the Great Immortal Goat. He was surprised the yellow mist served as such a powerful shield, but took comfort in the fact that while he couldn’t hit the goat, the goat seemed equally helpless against him.

So man and goat stood there, staring each other down, neither willing to yield, though both knew they could not harm the other. After a while, Nan Luo caught his breath and spoke: “Great Immortal, your skills are indeed formidable. Let’s stop fighting! We’re already well acquainted—there’s no need to fall out over a single fruit tree…”

It seemed that Nan Luo’s respectful address of “Great Immortal” had its effect; the red gleam in the goat’s eyes gradually faded. After some more words from Nan Luo, the two finally reached an understanding.

The red fruit on the little tree diffused an inviting fragrance, and upon tasting it, it melted in the mouth, like a clear spring flowing through Nan Luo’s heart. He felt himself drifting into a light, ethereal state for a good while before returning to himself, only to find that the Great Immortal Goat had already devoured most of the red fruit, branches and leaves included. Nan Luo hurried over to snatch one, but though it still tasted fragrant, the blissful, floating sensation was gone.

From then on, not only did their relationship not sour after that skirmish, it seemed to become even more harmonious. Yet whenever they spotted fruit along the way, both would, without a word, lunge for it with perfect understanding.

Sometimes Nan Luo wondered: he was not much of a talker, so why did he become so chatty in the company of this yellow goat? And why was he constantly scheming to trick the goat into teaching him the burrowing technique? Was he truly, as the timid goat claimed, full of cunning and mischief?

On the tenth day, Nan Luo and the Great Immortal Goat finally faced their first real challenge.

A brown bear. A tiger.

The brown bear’s fur was jet black and gleamed with an oily sheen. It stood motionless, steady as a mountain. Opposite, the tiger’s coat was a blaze of stripes, and it let out low growls, a murderous aura rolling out like a tide.

Nan Luo and the Great Immortal Goat hid at the bottom of a gully, heads poking out to watch the bear and tiger.

“Who are they?” Nan Luo whispered from beneath the leaves. But before the words left his mouth, the timid goat vanished in a flash of yellow mist, reappearing ten meters away, and soon disappeared again in another burst of mist.

Nan Luo was puzzled and about to mock the goat’s cowardice when he turned and saw both the bear and tiger staring at him. An icy dread seized him. He spun and ran in the same direction the goat had fled, his speed nearly matching the goat’s. Perhaps the bear and tiger, sensing Nan Luo’s weakness, let him go, or perhaps they were too wary of each other to act rashly.

Nan Luo desperately channeled his spiritual energy into his legs. Soon, he saw the Great Immortal Goat hiding behind a large boulder. Seeing Nan Luo, the goat grew even more smug. “I told you—it’s dangerous in the mountains. If I hadn’t noticed in time, you’d be dead by now.”

Nan Luo agreed at once, but his mind was busy plotting how he could learn the burrowing technique. He had no idea how much longer it would take to return to his tribe. The goat’s technique was fast, silent, agile, and could evade harm. Every time Nan Luo saw it, his desire to learn it intensified.

Suddenly, the roars of tiger and bear rang out together. Even at such a distance, the force of their combined auras crashed over Nan Luo, making him want to kneel and submit. His legs trembled, but a stubborn defiance welled up inside him, and true energy surged wildly through his body. The Great Immortal Goat, too, was clearly feeling the pressure. The yellow mist swirled around him, and his goat form gradually faded within it. Unlike his usual swift burrowing, this time he vanished slowly, but still managed to escape—and this time, it was the farthest Nan Luo had ever seen: over a hundred meters away, on the slope of a barren hill, a yellow goat suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Nan Luo stared, dumbfounded. He had always thought the burrowing technique was marvelous, but now, seeing the goat cover such a vast distance in a blink, he thought—if only he could learn it, he would use it even better than the timid goat. With such an escape, he could dodge any danger.

But now, the pressure on him only grew heavier, like a rising tide. Nan Luo knew if he didn’t break free soon, he would be trapped when his strength gave out. If the bear and tiger fought their way to him, he’d be crushed.

“So powerful! Even from so far away, their presence alone can almost kill me.”

The cloud-like energy in his dantian spun wildly, flooding his limbs. The pressure eased a little, and he could move.

One step, two steps, three steps… Nan Luo felt as if a mountain pressed on his shoulders, every step toward the goat’s hill a struggle. Sweat beaded and rolled down his face, yet his mind was clear, empty of all thought, his essence, energy, and spirit seeming to fuse as one.

From his perch on the barren hillside, the Great Immortal Goat watched Nan Luo in silence. He suddenly noticed something different: the slow-moving Nan Luo seemed more refined, as if the mud had turned to stone.

After twenty meters, Nan Luo found himself moving more easily; the oppressive force was fading.

But by then, his spiritual energy was exhausted. Reaching the goat’s side, he could no longer stand and simply collapsed, gasping for air.

From here, they could see the bear and tiger locked in furious battle. High above, at a distance, Nan Luo saw their bodies had swollen to three times their usual size—though still not as enormous as the kingly azure eagle he had once seen. Wherever they passed, dust flew and chaos reigned. Roars echoed, exuding an awe-inspiring dominance. Trees, both great and small, were toppled or snapped in half.

“At a time like this, you’d best meditate and recover your energy, or you might damage your foundation from overexertion.” Nan Luo, leaning against a rock and marveling at the ferocity of the fight, suddenly heard the goat’s voice.

The Great Immortal Goat had always been like an ancient relic in some old sect, never sharing the slightest secret of cultivation for fear others would learn from him. Yet now he was offering advice on recovery.

Nan Luo was surprised, but heeded the advice. When his strength was spent, even if a great beauty were offered to him, he would not budge—just opening his eyes was a chore. So, rousing himself was a herculean effort. Sitting up and assuming the best posture to channel the world’s spiritual energy was an immense challenge.

At that moment, Nan Luo’s body felt like a barren desert. In these endless mountains, he couldn’t afford a day without spiritual energy. He couldn’t wait for slow, gentle replenishment.

Once he settled into meditation, he realized just how wretched his condition was. The misty energy in his dantian was utterly depleted. Ignoring the pain in his body, he forced himself to relax, striving to connect with the world’s spiritual essence—breathing in, breathing out…

They say destruction begets creation; if he could seize this moment to cultivate, he might break through to a new level.

Nan Luo felt that his body was a desert, voraciously devouring all the spiritual energy he managed to draw in, none making it to his dantian, unable to complete a single cycle. Again and again, like a bottomless abyss, his body consumed all the energy he so painstakingly gathered, leaving nothing behind.