After the battle at the North Sea, and his rebirth in the depths of the lake, the death aura had been completely dispelled. As he walked through the wind and snow, not a sliver of it emanated out.
The fact that the black aura, which had encircled him for more than a month, was now gone, made Meng Hao’s pace a bit more leisurely as he moved through the snowfall.
Snow fell more and more heavily, making seem as if this was the year’s last and heaviest snowstorm. The snowflakes appeared to be pushed along by the incoming season, falling out of the sky as fast as possible.
The snow covered him, until he finally reached the cave in Mount Daqing that he had been taken from years before. He sat cross-legged, looking out at the world of snow and listening to the cry of the wind.
Night fell.
Snowfall blocked the night sky, making it impossible to see the stars. The only things visible were the endless sheets of snow which covered the landscape.
A small bonfire burned in front of Meng Hao, illuminating the surroundings with flickering firelight. The light fell onto his face as he sat there thinking.
Nearly four years had passed.
It was almost four years since he had joined the Reliance Sect. He had started out as a youth and had grown into a young man; he was now twenty years of age.
For a long time, Meng Hao sat there, looking down at his hands. They were clean, without a spot of dirt on them. But Meng Hao knew without a doubt that they were stained with blood.
He had killed many times in the past four years. At first, it had caused him much mental tribulation. Now, though you couldn’t say he was numb to it, at least he had come to accept it. He had adapted. It was as if some invisible force of heaven and earth had changed his spirit, his fate, and his future.
“What will I become in the end….” Meng Hao looked out at the snow outside of the cave, but it contained no answers.
Time passed by slowly, and soon dawn approached. Everything was pitch black. The only thing present was the whimpering of the wind and the frigid snow. The bonfire in front of Meng Hao slowly burned out, and the cave was consumed by darkness.
Meng Hao sat there in the dark, and a sense of deep loneliness filled his heart. The feeling grew stronger and stronger until it seemed as if it would consume him.
“Father, mother, where are you….” His voice was soft as he thought of his parents. He missed them so much.
“Fatty, what are you doing right now?” Meng Hao sighed as an image appeared in his mind of Fatty filing away at his teeth.
“Elder Sister Xu, Elder Brother Chen, you are in the Southern Domain… that’s great….” He looked out at the dark night outside the cave, and it was almost as if he could see the Southern Domain. An absentminded expression filled his face.
“Reading hundreds of books is like travelling ten thousand roads…. One day I will leave the State of Zhao and go to the Southern Domain.” A look of determination appeared in his eyes. The State of Zhao was on the very edge of the Southern Domain. The middle of the Southern Domain was very, very far away.
He remembered the map he had seen of the Nanshan Continent. There was a vast wilderness between the State of Zhao and the core of the Southern Domain, as well as several countries.
Given the current level of his Cultivation base, if he tried to travel by soaring, it would take an incredibly long time.
“If only I could become a Foundation Establishment stage Cultivator!” A fire seemed to burn in his eyes, a fire that contained a fierce longing. It was a longing to be able to fly in the sky, and a thirst to reach the Foundation Establishment stage.
“Reaching Foundation Establishment is being a true Cultivator. Then, my longevity will be extended to one hundred and fifty years.” The concept of extended life was a distant reality to Meng Hao. Usually, people wish for a longer life only when they get older. As of now, Meng Hao didn’t really care about that; what he was most concerned with was continuing to live on and not be in danger.
Unless one wants to live an average life, one must accept the limitations of one’s Cultivation base and latent talent, and fight on.
Meng Hao breathed deeply and looked out as dawn broke over the world. He pulled out Ding Xin’s bag of holding and looked over its contents. His eyes began to glitter.
“He really was the disciple of a great Sect. Even though he hadn’t reached the Foundation Establishment stage, he was filthy rich.” There were seven or eight thousand Spirit Stones inside, as well as the black, wooden bow.
When he pulled the bow out, his entire body felt cold. When he pulled back on the bowstring, it felt as if the spiritual energy of heaven and earth were being pulled into it.
Inside the bag of holding were several hundred black arrows, each one carved with strange markings. He collected them up. In addition to the Spirit Stones and treasured items, there were some pill bottles, assorted message plaques, and other random item