Record of Mortals Slaying Heaven

Chapter 11: On the Flying Boat

Shen Moqi stood on the flying boat, looking at the increasingly distant Yanjing City below, his heart filled with indescribable complex emotions. The lights gradually blurred and finally disappeared beneath the clouds before he withdrew his gaze and turned back to the boat.

Deacon Zhao remained standing at the bow of the ship, hands behind his back, his robes fluttering in the wind, yet he stood as steady as if nailed to the spot. Moonlight shone on his snow-white beard and hair, giving them a faint silver glow, which, combined with his ruddy face, did indeed give him a somewhat otherworldly air.

However, that aura that kept strangers at bay made Shen Moqi hesitant to speak.

He hesitated for a moment, then found a corner at the stern and sat down cross-legged. The flying boat flew very steadily, but since it was high in the sky, a strong gust of wind would occasionally sweep by, causing the entire boat to sway slightly. Since he had nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and began to practice the "Basic Breathing Technique of Luo Xiao".

The spiritual energy is still scarce, and absorption remains slow.

He was trying to calm himself down when suddenly a gust of wind rushed towards him—a wind much stronger than before, as if he had collided with some kind of air current, and the entire airship shook violently. Before Shen Moqi could react, he was thrown towards the side of the ship!

"ah--!"

He instinctively reached out and grabbed at anything, but grasped nothing; half his body was already hanging over the gunwale. Below was endless darkness, and the howling wind whistled into his ears, cold as knives.

Just when he thought he was about to fall, a hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and lifted him back like a chick.

"sit down."

Deacon Zhao's voice was calm, yet tinged with a hint of helplessness. He placed Shen Moqi back into the boat and cast a spell. Shen Moqi only felt a blur before her eyes as a pale blue light shield rose from all around the boat, like an inverted bowl, enveloping the entire flying boat.

The wind stopped, and the whistling sound disappeared. All around was so quiet that you could only hear your own heartbeat.

Shen Moqi gasped for breath, his back soaked in cold sweat. He looked up at Deacon Zhao, and after a long while, he managed to stammer, "Thank you... thank you for saving me, senior."

Deacon Zhao glanced at him, then walked back to the bow of the ship and stood with his hands behind his back.

"In the world of cultivation, one careless move can cost you your life." His voice came from ahead, neither loud nor soft, yet every word struck Shen Moqi's heart. "Today it's the wind, tomorrow it's the demon beasts, the day after it's the human heart. Always be careful."

Shen Moqi nodded quickly: "Yes, I will remember."

He composed himself, then suddenly remembered something and said, "Senior's move just now was truly lightning fast. I didn't even see it clearly before I was dragged back. Senior's cultivation is unfathomable!"

Deacon Zhao turned around and glanced at him.

The sternness in his gaze was gone, replaced by something indescribable—a mixture of amusement and helplessness.

"You little rascal, you know how to flatter."

Shen Moqi smiled awkwardly and didn't dare to reply.

Deacon Zhao withdrew his gaze, but his tone softened considerably: "On the path of cultivation, those who fear death often live longer. This was just a warning to you."

Seeing that Deacon Zhao was no longer as cold as before, Shen Moqi seized the opportunity to ask, "Senior, if I may be so bold as to ask, what exactly is the job after joining the sect?"

Deacon Zhao remained silent for a while before slowly speaking.

"After joining the sect, you will become a disciple of our sect. Disciples will be assigned to different halls from the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall according to their spiritual root attributes, and each person will be responsible for a task."

"What kinds of branches are there?" Shen Moqi pressed.

"Miscellaneous Affairs Hall, Resource Hall, Spiritual Plant Hall, Weapon Refining Hall, Alchemy Hall..." Deacon Zhao listed them one by one, "There are also Mountain Patrol Hall, Law Enforcement Hall, Scripture Pavilion, and more than a dozen in total."

He paused, then continued, "You have both wood and fire attributes, so the Spirit Plant Hall, Weapon Refining Hall, and Alchemy Hall are all possibilities. These three places are most suitable for your attributes."

Shen Moqi nodded, secretly making a mental note of it.

"And... what happens after you join the sect?"

"There are fixed tasks every month." Deacon Zhao's tone was calm, as if he were talking about something very ordinary. "Those in the Spirit Plant Hall have to cultivate spirit herbs and flowers; those in the Alchemy Hall have to learn how to refine pills; and those in the Weapon Forging Hall have to learn how to forge weapons. The difficulty of the tasks varies depending on the cultivation level and the hall."

Shen Moqi's heart tightened: "What if we can't finish?"

"If you fail to complete the task, your spirit stones will be deducted for the entire month." Deacon Zhao glanced at him. "If you fail to complete it for three consecutive months, the sect will have its own punishments. At best, you'll be assigned more hard labor; at worst, you'll be expelled from the sect."

Shen Moqi gasped.

"So... is it finished?"

"It's done. You can receive two low-grade spirit stones and three fasting pills every month," said Deacon Zhao. "If you exceed the quota, you'll receive additional rewards based on your contributions. Spirit stones are valuable; you'll see in time."

Shen Moqi touched the spirit stone in his arms, secretly rejoicing that the Imperial Preceptor had given him this treasure. Two spirit stones a month, and the one he had now was equivalent to half a month's "salary".

"When you join the sect, after registering your disciple information in the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall, you will be given a few things," Deacon Zhao continued, "an identity token, two sets of outer disciple robes, a sect handbook, and a welcome gift of five spirit stones and three fasting pills."

Shen Moqi's eyes lit up: "Five spirit stones?"

Deacon Zhao nodded: "The sect is quite kind to newcomers."

Shen Moqi felt much more at ease. With five spirit stones, plus the one given by the Imperial Preceptor, he now had six. Although he couldn't use them for daily cultivation, at least he had some peace of mind.

"The sect handbook contains the sect's history and rules," Deacon Zhao said seriously. "You must remember them well and not violate them. The Luo Xiao Sect has been established for a thousand years, and its rules are very strict. If you break the rules, no one can protect you."

Shen Moqi nodded respectfully: "This junior understands."

He thought for a moment, then asked, "Senior, how many disciples are there in the sect?"

After a moment of silence, Deacon Zhao said, "The sect has fewer than a thousand disciples in total, which is not as many as before."

"That's not a small number either," Shen Moqi said with a smile. "I thought the sect only had two or three hundred people, after all, I don't know many people with the aptitude for cultivation."

"Our Luo Xiao Sect possesses three kingdoms. Although there aren't many mortals with the aptitude for cultivation, we can still recruit one or two people every year. In addition, our lifespan is longer after cultivation, so it's only through accumulation that we've reached this number," Deacon Zhao said with no small amount of pride. "But only about half of them cultivate within the sect."

Shen Moqi asked curiously, "What did everyone else do?"

"You really are very curious. Don't the others go out to find resources, opportunities, and earn spirit stones? Are they all just loafing around in the sect waiting to die?" Deacon Zhao paused here, feeling that his words had also insulted him, and glared at Shen Moqi angrily.

Shen Moqi realized she had asked a foolish question and scratched her head sheepishly. "I've learned my lesson..."

"Once your cultivation level is high enough, you'll have to go out too. Right now, all that's left in the sect are us old folks who have no hope of breaking through and you low-level Qi Refining brats." Deacon Zhao said somewhat listlessly.

Shen Moqi was stunned.

He looked at Deacon Zhao's back as he stood at the bow of the boat. The moonlight shone on his gray-blue Taoist robe, and for some reason, he could see a hint of loneliness in it.

"Junior..." He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found that he couldn't say anything.

Deacon Zhao waved his hand without turning around.

"You're still young, it's normal that you don't understand. You'll understand later... you'll understand later."

Shen Moqi dared not ask any more questions.

He sat silently at the stern of the boat, watching that figure from behind, his heart filled with mixed feelings. A late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, described by the Imperial Preceptor as a powerful figure who could "kill me with a flick of his finger," and considered a god by mortals, now appeared to be just an ordinary old man.

Cultivating immortality, in the end, is nothing more than waiting to die?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Thinking about such things now was too far off; he hadn't even reached the second level of Qi Refining, so thinking about Foundation Establishment or Golden Core was a joke.

The airship continued its journey, passing through clouds and skimming over mountains. Occasionally, it could see scattered lights below, those of human cities; occasionally, it could hear the roars of beasts in the distance, the howls of some unknown monsters in the night.

Shen Moqi didn't ask any more questions. He leaned against the ship's railing, staring blankly at the night outside. Deacon Zhao also stood motionless at the bow, like a statue.

Silent all night.

As dawn broke, Shen Moqi groggily opened her eyes. The flying boat continued to fly steadily, but the surroundings were completely different—in the distance, a majestic mountain range stretched across the sky, its peaks soaring into the clouds, and amidst the swirling mist, some buildings with upturned eaves could be vaguely seen.

"We've arrived," came Steward Zhao's voice from ahead.

Shen Moqi quickly got up and leaned over the gunwale to look ahead. The flying boat began to descend, passing through the clouds, and the buildings became clearer and clearer—there were magnificent palaces, scattered pavilions, cascading waterfalls and flowing springs, and exotic flowers and rare herbs. Occasionally, a few figures could be seen flying by on swords, leaving streaks of light in the sunlight.

We've arrived at Luo Xiao Sect.

Shen Moqi took a deep breath and gripped the backpack in her arms tightly.