Chapter 40: Hints of a Hidden Spirit in the Withered Well

Ye Chen’s heart was troubled, tangled with countless worries like a ball of knotted thread, impossible to unravel. He thought for a moment before asking, “That Ebony’s fate appears remarkably prosperous; if he died long ago, how could a dead man possess any fortune at all?”

The dead are finished; they are no longer considered living beings, and thus, naturally, have no fortune. Fortune is something only the living possess.

“You can see fortune?” Ning Peach Blossom was surprised. Fortune is elusive and mysterious, usually only accessible to those with profound cultivation. For someone as weak as Ye Chen to perceive it was exceedingly rare.

Could this be the unique aspect of Dream Butterfly, or perhaps a gift from heaven after forging a new path? Though the heavens may resent him, the benefits could not be few.

Ning Peach Blossom pondered much, though her face revealed nothing. She smiled and said, “The dead indeed have no fortune, but what you see may not belong to Ebony. It should be the fortune of the Monster. Though monstrous and bizarre, it is still a living being.”

“The Monster does possess fortune, but it ought to be pure black. What I saw was golden, suggesting the fortune upon it is extraordinary.”

Ning Peach Blossom laughed softly, then sighed, “Ordinarily, the fortune would be pure black, signifying great danger. But if favored by heavenly will, things change.”

“Consider this: according to the will of the old heavens, the extinction of all living things would be ideal. Monsters roam everywhere—have you never found that strange?”

Ye Chen paused, thinking carefully before asking, “Why is that?”

“Because Monsters might be favored by the heavens, the budding seeds of the next generation of all living things. As for us, we are meant to be eliminated by the times, stubbornly clinging to the stage of this world, unwilling to exit.”

“Back during the great war of cultivators, heaven and earth were devastated, the great realm shattered, and the fortune of all living things collapsed entirely, condemned by the heavens, irredeemably.”

“The only reason we scrape by now is that the vital energy of this great realm has yet to recover.”

Ye Chen felt a pang of sorrow. These days were hard indeed. Though his strength was low, it wasn’t as though Heaven couldn’t catch and punish him. When he forged a new path, he had been struck by thunder, nearly destroyed forever.

“This great realm is slowly recovering—doesn’t that mean a dead end?”

When heaven and earth recover, all survivors would surely be hunted down.

Ye Chen felt uneasy. “Is the future utterly bleak, with no hope at all?”

“If you can reach the shore before the realm’s vitality returns, and possess strength great enough, then what does it matter if Heaven resents you? Only the weak are ever eliminated; if you are strong enough, there’s nothing to fear.”

Ye Chen’s lips twitched. That’s easy to say, but how does one grow stronger? He had no answer, yet didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he stared at the bone token and asked in a deep voice, “That bone token has been tampered with. Is there any way to remove it?”

“No way to remove it,” Ning Peach Blossom shook her head. “It’s not that the token was tampered with, but that the token itself is problematic. Unless you destroy it, you’ll need to stay vigilant.”

“This dream is unusual. Here, the bone token won’t leak its aura, so it won’t attract enemies.”

Ye Chen was deeply disappointed. “Seems the bone token shouldn’t be used lightly.”

He’d hoped to use it to seize some opportunity. Since he needed to strengthen himself, the bone token seemed valuable, but it was risky. Best to leave it for later.

“If any scheming hands want us and the Dove Tribe to destroy each other, it likely stems from that place’s influence.”

At that moment, Wu muttered, “I don’t believe it’s possible, but after eliminating all other answers, no matter how absurd the result, it must be accepted.”

Ye Chen’s eyes flickered, his face calm, but his heart was shaken.

“How strange. I’ve searched through Wu’s memories—what place does Wu know about that is not obvious, yet hides many secrets I’ve overlooked?”

Ye Chen was puzzled, lost without a clue. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t figure it out.

Though Wu’s memories were mostly clear, it was like viewing them from afar, with a layer separating him. The memories weren’t vivid to Ye Chen, just like casually flipping through a book—unless something stood out, it rarely left a lasting mark.

Wu walked ahead, Ye Chen followed, the two moving through the darkness to a bamboo house.

Ye Chen’s pupils contracted. This bamboo house was peculiar; he knew it well.

For instance, as a totem, peeking inside the bamboo house was notoriously difficult.

This suggested a longstanding distrust toward the totem. Later, the chief’s actions to separate himself from the totem, refusing to share fate, were not surprising; the signs had been there.

But after Ye Chen became a deity, the bamboo house was completely undefended to him.

That was odd. He entered. The bamboo house was small, nothing remarkable at first glance.

Within the courtyard, old medicinal herbs exuded their fragrance. Wu led the way to a well.

It was a dry well.

Inside, aside from fallen leaves, there was nothing.

The bottom held no water. Beneath a pile of dry leaves, wisps of spiritual energy rose like gentle streams, smoky and drifting, continuously ascending.

“Could there be a spiritual vein?”

Ye Chen was not overly excited; spiritual veins were not the issue now.

“There is a vein, but not much energy.” Wu nodded. “Within the tribe, this is the only place with some mystery. If any strange events occur, it’s likely connected to this dry well.”

Though Wu hadn’t unraveled the cause, if it could affect the tribe’s leaders and remain undetected, there wouldn’t be many explanations.

Ye Chen peered into the depths of the well, then, after some thought, simply jumped in.

The soil inside was damp. As Ye Chen landed, divine power thundered, blasting a deep pit at the bottom.

Spiritual energy surged like a tidal wave, washing over Ye Chen’s body, refreshing and invigorating. Yet a chill suddenly gripped his heart, a sense of unease.

The energy was gentle as water, yet seemed tinged with a hint of death.

But when Ye Chen tried to sense it carefully, nothing was found.

“Perhaps I sensed wrong? If death energy were mixed in, using this spiritual energy to temper the body would be courting death.”

If such danger really existed, it shouldn’t have gone unnoticed before. After all, if death energy clung to him, the effects would be obvious.