Chapter 003: Make a Hole_1

The setting sun cast its afterglow across the surface of the water, turning it a fiery, glittering gold. The shadows of lotus leaves and stems intertwined and swayed in the water, like a quiet, secluded forest.

Qing lay completely limp at the bottom of the pond, the skin and flesh at the base of his left rear leg and tail torn by several gashes inflicted by an otter, which had now turned inside out. The smell of blood drew a frenzy of fish and shrimp in the pond. Fortunately, the bleeding had already stopped, and the wounds were starting to turn white.

The otter beside him was thoroughly dead, its neck torn open by Qing, who had bitten off a chunk of flesh the size of a palm.

This time, it was Qing, Sixth Brother, who had launched a sneak attack, pinning the otter's fate at a critical juncture, preventing its agile movements from coming into play. Moreover, by leveraging his superior ability to hold his breath, he had drowned the otter.

He was very fortunate and relied on his strength, but what about next time?

If the Wolf King could bring one otter, it could bring ten. If there were two otters, Qing would not be able to defeat them.

Turtles were never a species known for their combat prowess. What turtles competed in was endurance, and they were experts in retreating into their shells to avoid danger.

But the shell wasn't enough to fend off an otter, which knew how to attack a turtle's limbs. A retracted turtle was like a walnut to them - crack it open to get to the delicious insides.

The pond was too small. If four or five otters were let in, there'd be no place to escape.

He had to plan an escape route.

A turtle without foresight would surely have immediate worries; either kill the Wolf King to drive away the wolf pack or find an invincible escape route.

He was still too weak!

Too young, Qing had transmigrated less than two years ago, and had grown to the size of a washbowl entirely thanks to lucky rolls of the dice. The other little turtles that had managed to survive alongside him from the same batch were only palm-sized.

If he could just have two more years to grow to the size of a manhole cover, he'd be unstoppable. Even if a crocodile came biting, he'd break every tooth in its maw.

He'd dig a hole!

He'd dig a hole and then cover it with a slab of stone, striving to snatch a few more Big Salamander fish before crawling into the hole to grow slowly.

With some luck and seizing another Red Carp, throwing a five or six on the dice, he might quickly grow to the size of a manhole cover.

Qing searched the bottom of the water for a prime spot to dig a hole, hidden among the lotus flowers, surrounded by plant roots that firmly grasped clumps of soil, allowing for a large cave to be dug without fear of it collapsing under the pressure of the pond water. After burrowing in, breaking the soil layer above would cause large rocks to fall and cover the entrance.

Not to mention keeping otters out, even Qing would need to dig through the mud behind him to make a new hole to get out.

Otters closed their nostrils in the water and couldn't smell him, making it impossible to find him. If there was too much noise, he would be woken up. The hearing of turtles was quite sharp.

Having planned everything, Qing dove headfirst into the bottom of the pond and began to break apart the silt with his claws, starting his excavation.

As evening fell, darkness engulfed the water first. The howls of wolves rose and fell continuously, pairs of eyes glinting with a green light in the darkness, amplifying the already tense atmosphere.

Qing was invisible at the bottom of the pond, busy digging his hole.

Fifty miles away, on an inconspicuous little island atop Tinghai Lake, a Sword Light descended, transforming into an old man and a young boy. A scruffy Taoist and a boy with his hair still in tufts.

The boy held a Bronze Mirror, looking at the flickering spots of light on it, somewhat dejectedly saying, "Ancestor, there are eighteen Demonic Fruits in Tinghai Lake, all colorless fruits."

He put away the mirror, revealing a hint of envy, "Ancestor, when will our Qingyuan Mountain grow Green Demonic Fruits?"

The day before, following his ancestor, he saw Taoist Qing from Xuanqing Temple. In their territory, a Green Fruit grew, which was eaten by their temple's mastiff, over a decade old. Those two Taoist Boys showed off in front of him.

As if they were the ones who had eaten the fruit.

The boy's eyes twinkled, "Ancestor, do you think it's possible that a Red Fruit grew in Qingyuan Territory but we missed it?"

This treasure mirror could only detect colorless and green Demonic Fruits. What about the legendary Red Fruit?

The scruffy Taoist took a bite of a large chicken leg, his mouth glistened with grease, "You little runt sure dare to dream! Every sixty years there's a Starfall, and Demonic Fruits fall from the heavens and grow from the earth. It takes sixty years to form an ordinary fruit, and three thousand six hundred years to grow a green one. Red Fruits have never appeared; they are merely speculative, possibly taking tens or hundreds of thousands of years to grow. If such fruit really existed, forget its absence, if it did appear, could our Qingyuan Gate really protect it?"

This entire area, spanning thousands of miles, belonged to Qingyuan Gate. The pond where Qing resided, including Tinghai Lake within a hundred miles, was no exception.

The old Taoist thumped Boy's head, "Thinking about all these baseless things, you might as well think about how to make the roasted chicken taste better. If you do well, your ancestor here will reward you with three melons and two dates, enough for you to show off for half a lifetime!"

"Go! Look around and see if that Little Turtle has come. This old Taoist has come on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month as agreed upon."

Last year, while drunk on a stupendous binge, the old Taoist talked nonsense. He spent three days on this small island speaking to a group of fish and turtles about the Tao. Three days later, when the wine wore off, he actually found a black turtle that had been listening attentively the whole time.

He teased the turtle, which was full of spirit and seemed to have opened its Spirit Wisdom. Incredibly, it even kowtowed to thank him.

The Taoist was overjoyed and really wanted to take it away. However, he couldn't bear to cut off its chance to transform into a demon: the once-in-sixty-years Starfall was approaching, and creatures from all directions had the opportunity to turn into demons. If he took it away, he would be depriving it of this opportunity.

There is a rule in the cultivation world that humans must not interfere in the struggle for the Demonic Fruit.

So, the Taoist made an agreement to come back on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month of the following year, when the lotus flowers were in full bloom, to see the turtle again. If it was fortunate enough to have swallowed a Demonic Fruit, he would take it back to the sect for proper teaching. If it remained an animal, he would keep it as a pet.

Today was the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.

The boy climbed high and looked into the distance. The lake was shimmering, teeming with fish, and Little Turtles darted gracefully, as if flying, while water birds soared leisurely and contentedly. But he did not see the Little Turtle that the elder seemed so fond of.

Even after a careful search, there was no sign of the turtle. It had stood him up.

The elder must be silly, even if the turtle was spirited, how could it possibly keep the appointment without having consumed a Demonic Fruit to gain intelligence?

He ran down from the small mound, calling out as he ran, "Ancestor, have you gone daft? When you set the appointment with the turtle for the seventh day of the seventh lunar month when the lotus flowers bloom, how would it know when that is? This year, Uncle Su's magical battle caused spring and summer to arrive late around Qingyuan Mountain, and the lotus flowers haven't bloomed yet!"

The unkempt old Taoist suddenly stopped, with a chicken rump in his mouth, staring in shock.

Did I, a sage who worries about a thousand things, overlook something?

With a sigh, he said, "Then it's just not meant to be!"

Today, he had specially taken the time to come here, but he had to preside over the opening of the Three Rivers Wasteland tonight, so he could not wait for the lotus flowers to bloom.

And how long would that take, at least a month?

The old Taoist carefully wrapped the half-eaten roast chicken in two lotus leaves and stuffed it inside his robe, then stood up and summoned his Immortal Sword.

The boy blinked, "Are you going to break your word, Ancestor? Aren't you going to look for that Little Turtle?"

With the Taoist's Divine Skills, he could spot it at a glance, couldn't he?

"Pah!" the Taoist huffed proudly, raising his head aloofly, "It should be looking for me, would it be proper for me to look for it?"

Who is the seeker, and who is the teacher? Shouldn't that turtle child, after enduring countless hardships and eighty-one tribulations, crawl before me in utmost devotion, ready for sincere worship?

The Ancestor is just being haughty!

The boy's eyes rolled, "But what if... what if the Little Turtle has eaten a Green Demonic Fruit against all odds?"

The Green Fruits could mold a demon of unparalleled talent.

The old Taoist snorted disdainfully, "So what?" To reach where I am in my practice, aren't we all geniuses?

"And if it ate a Red Fruit?"

The old Taoist flicked the boy's head, his mind always fanciful. What about the Red Fruit? Was it something remarkable? The Red Fruit, an entity of mere legend, would that concern me?

Was he supposed to kneel down and pass on his teachings to the turtle? If it came to it, he would fight a bloody battle with the other sects and snatch it away to accept it as a Closed-door Disciple on behalf of his departed master.

If the turtle had the luck to eat the Red Fruit, the old Taoist could not bear it, nor dare to take it in; but since the old man's bones had long decayed, he wasn't afraid.

The old Taoist lightly stamped his foot on the ground, picked up the Child, and flew straight to the Nine Heavens on his Immortal Sword.

The wind blew over the stone that he had stamped on. It crumbled away, revealing a Turtle Stone Statue that looked as if it had been chopped and carved with an ax. The turtle stretched out its limbs, lengthened its neck, and slightly closed its eyes toward the bright moon, breathing in and out.

The old Taoist tapped into creation itself, and even a casually created turtle contained a complete Breathing Technique.

A breeze blew, slipping through the stone turtle's nostrils, as if the turtle was breathing too—long and short, fast and slow...

At this moment, fifty miles away in a small pond, Su He was digging a hole.