Time passed, and maintaining his original speed, Meng Hao eventually emerged from the mountainous region after two days.
“I’m not sure how long it took Elder Sister Xu to bring me to the Sect,” he muttered to himself, looking back at the mountains. “It was a few days, but I was unconscious. In any case, I think her speed at that time would have been similar to my own now.”
To Cultivators, the State of Zhao is not very large. But to mortals, it is actually quite a vast region. In his studies, he had read about its geography, and though he had never personally travelled about in it, he was nevertheless somewhat familiar with the area.
“As of now I’m in the north of the State of Zhao. I shouldn’t be too far from Yunjie County.” Off in the distance, he could see what looked almost like a mirror laying on the flat land. That would be what was referred to as the North Sea.
“Now that I think about it, with a Wind Pennant, and being at the seventh level of Qi Condensation, Elder Sister Xu could fly temporarily, but it would drain her spiritual power relatively quickly. She couldn’t have flown very far away.” Meng Hao’s eyes flickered with longing. He had been away from Yunjie County for three years, and his desire to return was growing stronger. He knew that after crossing the North Sea, he would be about a half-day’s walk from Mount Daqing.
Breathing in deeply, he proceeded onward, eventually arriving at the shore of the North Sea. He looked down, and on the surface of the calm lake, he could see his reflection in the water. He was no longer a youth. He looked to be about 20 years of age. His face appeared steadfast and resolute, completely different from the ignorant, immature Meng Hao of the past.
Amidst the silence, a warm, hearty laugh rang out, breaking Meng Hao’s train of thought.
“Hello, young sir, do you wish to cross the sea?” A small boat slid across the water, guided toward Meng Hao by an old man wearing a woven rush raincoat. His face was covered with the evidence of a life of hardship, but he spoke with a smile.
“I do not wish to trouble you, old sir,” said Meng Hao, looking surprised. He hadn’t been called ‘young sir’ for three years now.
“It’s no trouble,” said the old man. “I’ve been ferrying people across the ocean for many years. I really admire young, talented scholars like yourself.” He pushed the boat up next to Meng Hao, who leaped easily onto the deck, offering his thanks.
There was a young girl inside the boat, seven or eight years old, her hair done up in two pigtails. She squatted in front of a little oven, tannings its flames as she boiled water. Steam wafted up