Even after twenty years, Yongzhou City's familiar silhouette against the horizon hadn't changed little. Its outline remained a memory etched into the land itself, a jagged crown of dark stone sitting amidst the vast, sun-bleached expanse of the desert.
Its towering, battle-scarred walls still loomed with the same imposing, steadfast presence as before, a testament to enduring stone and stubborn will. The grey granite was pitted with old arrow marks and scorched by forgotten fires, yet it stood defiant. Yet, as Su Min descended from the clouds during the chen (dragon) hour (around 8 AM) and passed through the massive iron-studded gates, she could sense the subtle differences humming just beneath the surface.
There's a new energy thrumming through the old stones, a vibration of life that had been missing during the war's dark days. The buildings within were taller now, their architecture more ambitious, with sweeping tiled eaves reaching upward like hopes that had once been stifled but were now quietly flourishing. There's a new, confident grandeur to the place. She felt a bolder spirit woven into the very fabric of its bustling streets, heard it in the louder, rhythmic calls of the fish merchants, and saw it in the quicker, purposeful pace of the crowd.
Still, beneath the city's steady, vibrant pulse, a faint and almost imperceptible spiritual thread tugged at her awareness's edges. It's a silken line of connection, cool and insistent, that she couldn't ignore.
"Is this... the resonance of incense offering?" she murmured to herself. She paused right in the middle of the crowded thoroughfare where people flowed around her like a river around a stone, their shoulders brushing her grey sleeves. "A karmic connection, faint but definitely present..."
She was genuinely surprised. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the rooftops for the source of that specific, ethereal pull. She hadn't expected this, not here, not after so long. When she had last been here all those years ago, she hadn't asked Prince Yong to set up any shrines or conduct any rites in her name. So why was there a dedicated stream of faith? Why were there spiritual offerings tied directly to her soul?
She knew that incense worship had its tangible uses in cultivation. It could help accelerate the tempering of something like the Great Sun Tathāgata's Golden Body, though it wasn't strictly necessary. The scripture itself, the Great Sun Tathāgata Sutra, was the true core, the profound foundation upon which everything is built.
Anyone who practiced it with utmost diligence could eventually attain its heights through pure internal alchemy. Still, the devotees' focused faith made the path smoother. It acted as a spiritual catalyst that could shave years off the journey, refining the golden light within her dantian with a purity that solo meditation could rarely match.
"Well, there's no point just standing around speculating," she decided, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts. "Let's go take a look."
She reached into her spatial ring, the air rippling with a faint distortion as she pulled out a simple, unadorned robe. She wrapped it around herself to mask her distinctive figure and the occasional metallic gleam of her armor beneath the coarse, grey fabric. After twenty years, it's likely very few would recognize her on sight, but it's best not to take any chances. In her experience, trouble often found her faster when familiar faces remembered who she was, and she preferred to choose her own battles.
As she approached the northern city gate, the change in the atmosphere was unmistakable. It's a palpable shift in the very weight of the air. The last great war had utterly broken the grasslands' military power, shattering their hordes and their ambition. No warning drums thundered from beyond the horizon anymore, and the political landscape suggested it'll take generations for them to recover their former strength, if they ever could.
Moreover, with the world's spiritual energy steadily thickening, the resource-poor grasslands had fallen even further behind. They lacked both the concentrated population and the rare materials needed to foster powerful cultivators. The imbalance was becoming stark and permanent.
"Interesting," she mused. Her spiritual sense gently brushed over the crowds like an invisible, cooling hand. "Twenty years, and the number of Body Refining cultivators has exploded. Most are still in the early stage, their foundations shaky, but it's undeniable progress."
She watched a young man effortlessly lift a heavy wooden cart that would have strained two ordinary men to their limits. His muscles corded under his tanned skin, and he didn't even break a sweat as he maneuvered the vehicle into a narrow alley. Reaching the late stage might still take them decades of hard work, yet it was something. The age of cultivation is truly dawning.
Her expert gaze swept over the bustling, vibrant streets. Years ago, finding even one such cultivator had been a notable event, a thing to be remarked upon in hushed tones. Now, she saw several in just a single city block. Their auras were weak and unsteady, little more than glowing embers in the spiritual dark, but each one held a spark of promise.
With her Foundation Establishment cultivation, she could glimpse their rough potential with a mere glance. Most would stagnate at the early or middle stages of Body Refining, but a rare few might defy expectations and touch the Qi Refining stage, crossing the first true threshold into the world of the supernatural.
"Should I go pay the Prince of Yong a visit?" she wondered aloud. Her thoughts turned to her old partner. "There should be a few ancient ruins about to surface soon, if I'm remembering the game's timeline correctly..."
She fell silent for a moment. She felt the weight of her long absence settle on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. The world had shifted greatly while she slept, and she realized she had very few acquaintances left in it. It's a lonely thought for one who had lived so long.
"Today is the monastery's grand sermon, right?" a man nearby said excitedly to his companion. His voice cut through her reverie. "everyone is going! We have got to bring the kids. If they can grasp even a bit of the master's teachings, they might awaken their martial potential. Once they become true warriors, their futures will be limitless!"
"Stay close to me, now!" a mother chided her children, herding them through the press of bodies with sharp, protective tugs on their sleeves. "You won't get to see the great master this clearly often!"
A monastery.
A master.
Su Min's brow lifted slightly in recognition. A piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
"That guy... he is here?"
It's not hard to guess who they were talking about. That monk, her old acquaintance—the one she had parted ways with back in the scorched deserts near Great Wei. They had taken different paths then. She had gone to seek elemental treasures for her breakthrough, while he had chosen his own spiritual journey. Now, by some twist of fate, they had both ended up in the same region once again, drawn together by the invisible, tangled threads of karma.
Curious, her figure flickered and vanished from the main street. She moved with a speed invisible to mortal eyes, a blur of grey that was there and then gone before the eye could track it.
Moments later, she stood before an imposing, newly constructed temple. The faint spiritual link she had sensed earlier now pulsed with unmistakable clarity and strength. It's a steady, rhythmic beat that originated from within these very walls, smelling of sandalwood and ancient echoes.
"These bald donkeys really go all out when they build something," she remarked. She was impressed despite herself as she took in the grand scale, the towering pillars, and the meticulously carved friezes.
The temple wasn't just a holy site. It's a minor fortress and a cultivation center, brimming with the presence of dozens of cultivators, many of them surprisingly strong for this region. But Su Min didn't hesitate. With a soft spatial shift that made the air pop, she stepped directly inside, bypassing the main gates and the long lines of pilgrims entirely. In an instant, she appeared in the vast main hall, where a few senior monks were peacefully welcoming pilgrims. The potent spiritual energy she had followed radiated from one of the three majestic statues enshrined at the hall's front.
In the center stood a magnificent statue of Śākyamuni, the Tathāgata Buddha, serene and all-knowing. On the left was a compassionate Guanyin, her eyes full of mercy. And on the right...
...was her.
Or rather, it's a stylized, slightly idealized image meant to represent her. The features weren't entirely accurate. It had been sculpted by artists who had only heard descriptions of her appearance, giving her a more serene and less severe expression than she knew she possessed. Even so, seeing her own likeness enshrined in a temple, with thick plumes of incense smoke curling around it, she felt an odd mix of amusement, pride, and profound awkwardness. A heat rose to her cheeks, making her skin prickle.
Yet the incense burned thick and fragrant, and the sincere faith within the air was palpable. It's a tangible force that pressed against her spiritual senses like a warm tide.
"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to draw in a little of that devotion," she thought. It's, after all, part of the unspoken agreement she had made with that monk long ago. He would spread the faith and manage the temple, and she would passively cultivate through the offerings. It's a perfect, symbiotic relationship. Now, with her Foundation Establishment solidified, the timing felt right to use this faith to further temper her Great Sun Tathāgata Sutra. Maybe she could even unlock a deeper layer of the technique, a hidden power waiting within the scripture.
"Amitābha. It's been a long time, Benefactor."
A familiar, calm voice rang out, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to find a monk, clad in simple saffron robes and holding a gleaming golden staff that jingled softly with every movement, walking toward her. His step was steady and sure, his presence a pool of deep calm in the noisy, crowded hall.
"Hui Ming?" Su Min blinked, genuinely surprised to see him here in this role, looking so settled and authoritative. "What are you doing here? And you have reached Foundation Establishment... but you chose the Human path?" She clicked her tongue in mild disapproval, a familiar critical note entering her voice. "What a waste of your potential."
She studied him carefully with her spiritual sight. It's indeed the same monk she had met in the desert. His cultivation level didn't surprise her; he had reached the Qi Refining stage through sheer talent and perseverance, without even using Qi Inducing Pills. But what caught her expert attention now was the faint, brilliant aura flickering deep within his body. It's a signature that had been hidden before, now revealed by his advancement into the Foundation stage.
"...A Ten Thousand Buddha Physique?" she murmured, her frown deepening slightly as she confirmed the rare, multifaceted glow.
Such a physique was incredibly rare, almost tailor-made for Buddhist cultivation. It hadn't been visible when he was still in Qi Refining, but now that he had stepped into Foundation Establishment, its glorious presence was undeniable. While it's not the absolute, mythic peak of all physiques, it's certainly remarkable and placed him firmly among the elite. Among players in the game, it would have been a coveted, top-tier trait. In this native world, it's a gift found in one in ten thousand cultivators, if that—a true mark of heaven's favor.
"Please, come with me to the inner hall, senior," Hui Ming said, bowing respectfully. His demeanor was unchanged by her blunt assessment. "You have been in seclusion for over twenty years. I imagine there's much confusion in your heart about the changes in the world. Allow me to offer what guidance I can." He gestured around the crowded main hall where devotees were still straining for a glimpse of the statues. "And please, let's not obstruct the ongoing sermon."
"Alright," Su Min agreed, her curiosity piqued. She decided to play along for now.
She followed him into a quieter, more secluded room at the temple's back. The crowd's noise faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the soft crackle of a small charcoal brazier. The two of them sat across from each other on simple cushions, a modest wooden table between them.
"So," Su Min began, her eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity and a hint of suspicion as she got straight to the point. "What brings you to Yongzhou, truly? The King of U'er actually didn't let you leave his side?"
"The King passed away peacefully ten years ago," Hui Ming replied. His voice was calm and even, though a shadow of old grief passed through his eyes, a brief cloud over a still lake. "With the world's spiritual energy growing denser by the day, even the harsh deserts had begun to bloom with new life. Several permanent oases have appeared, and trade routes with Great Wei have reopened and flourished." He paused, folding his hands neatly in his lap. "As for me... I came here at my master's summons."
"To spread the Dharma and build this?" Su Min asked, gesturing vaguely to indicate the expansive temple around them.
"To protect the people, senior," he corrected gently, offering another slight bow. "After you... dealt with the steppe army, the vengeful spirits of the slain lingered. No proper rites weren performed to pacify them, and the negative energy festered, growing stronger in the dark. Now, the outskirts of Yongzhou, the old battlefields, are overrun with malevolent forces and restless ghosts. They prey on travelers and nearby villages, causing fear and death."
"...Ah."
Su Min rubbed the bridge of her nose, a distinct hint of guilt creeping into her expression. In her focus on the grand battle and her subsequent seclusion, she had completely overlooked the grim, aftermath of such large scale death.