Chapter 28: Advanced World? (Part One)

Abbot Sanzo, who was intently watching the treetop, was oblivious to Sun Meng’s arrival. Sun Meng glanced at Sanzo but chose not to disturb him, instead walking to the other side of the tree.

Just then, a wooden lump, resembling a swollen growth on the tree’s trunk, fell to the ground. Before it could touch the earth, Sun Meng caught it in his hand.

Second-tier rare item, the seed of the Source-Gathering Fruit Tree—the Core Fruit. In a sense, it was even more precious than the fruit that granted fifty additional years of life, for it could grow a new Source-Gathering Fruit Tree. However, unless one waited a century or provided enough spiritual energy for it to grow, the rewards would not come easily. Furthermore, once it passed a millennium in age, it would, like this tree, gain sentience.

Through the ages, there had been people before Abbot Sanzo who obtained the Immortality Fruit, but they were exceedingly rare. What, then, became of those who failed?

Looking at the fate of Elder Xuanfeng and Elder Zhaozhen, it was clear: a misstep, captured by the vines, and in the end, they became nutrients for the tree.

Though the Source-Gathering Fruit Tree had not killed them directly, over the years it had grown increasingly irritable, influenced by the resentment of the dead.

Having safely stowed away the item, Sun Meng was more than satisfied with this harvest.

He returned to the other side, just as Sanzo leapt into the air and plucked a fruit from the tree.

“Tch! You win. The Immortality Fruit is yours. Damn it, don’t tell me you intend to use it yourself—if that’s the case, am I to become your personal fruit tree from now on?”

Sanzo looked at the tree’s expression and replied, “Don’t worry! I won’t be the one to use it. But I doubt anyone else will ever take the Immortality Fruit from you again.” Then he turned to Sun Meng. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” With that, he dashed down the mountain, Sun Meng following close behind. As Sanzo left the mountaintop, he flung something behind him—a fire starter. The flame, shrouded in his internal energy, landed among the vines.

Other vines tried to smother the fire, but the blaze only grew fiercer.

Atop the mountain, the Source-Gathering Fruit Tree let out a pained cry, “You liar! No—!”

Seeing the inferno on the mountaintop, Elders Xuanfeng and Zhaozhen rushed upward, their restored inner energy cloaked around their bodies.

“Abbot! Shaotan, where are you?”

A figure descended from the sky, landing behind them. “Enough. The two of you can settle your matters when we return!”

At Sanzo’s stern expression, both elders blushed and lowered their heads in shame.

Sun Meng arrived at the foot of the mountain just in time to admit—though only a minor difference in rank, Sanzo’s strength far outstripped his own.

Elsewhere, Abbot Sanzo leaned out from the carriage. “Get in. We’re heading back.”

Upon returning to Shaolin Temple, Sun Meng and the others were greeted by the panting, breathless trio of Little Dragon and his companions, just coming in from outside.

Evidently, even half a day was too long for them to remain quietly within the monastery.

Sanzo frowned slightly but said nothing more. “Rest well.” Then he glanced at Xuanfeng and Zhaozhen. “You two, come with me.”

Once the abbot departed with the elders, Little Dragon and his friends breathed a sigh of relief.

“Honestly, can’t you stay put for even half a day? Where did you run off to this time?” Sun Meng asked, eyeing the trio.

“A haunted house! A real haunted house!” Little Tiger patted his chest, still shaken.

“That wasn’t a ghost. I think it was some special substance that traps people in illusions, making them see their deepest fears. Still, the scenes were disturbingly real,” Little Dragon said.

Lan remained silent, merely casting a glance at Sun Meng. “I’m going to rest.”

The next day, Sun Meng found a chance to visit the so-called Whispering Pavilion they had mentioned. All he found was a kind of Nightmare Powder. The system did not classify it as a rare item, but the Nightmare Array (second tier) he acquired from it was indeed rare.

He couldn’t take the array with him, so he simply noted its location. In essence, he had not truly obtained it.

At present, he possessed three rare items: the Fire Demon Core, the Banshee Talisman, and the seed of the Source-Gathering Fruit Tree. With the Monster-Sealing Mirror held by Sanzo, only one more rare item was needed to complete the task.

However, time was already running short, and the third mission had just been revealed.

“Foil one of the Black Fox King’s schemes. The participant’s involvement must reach eighty percent.”

Sun Meng’s lips twitched. Thwarting one of the Black Fox King’s plots seemed manageable—he could just follow Little Dragon and his friends. After these two months, he was certain these three were the protagonists of this world.

Though this world was real and they could not escape unscathed from every danger, their luck was undeniable.

However, to reach eighty percent involvement meant that from the discovery of the Black Fox King’s plot to its complete defeat, he had to take the lead—and would inevitably face the Black Fox King himself.

A couple of peaceful days passed. Then, one day, Little Tiger suddenly sought Sun Meng’s advice on archery techniques.

“What are you up to now?” Sun Meng asked doubtfully. Though by training in martial arts, the trio’s physical abilities were far above average, archery required more than brute strength.

And truth be told, Little Tiger was not particularly gifted in archery.

“Don’t tell me you want to enter Nanyang Town’s archery competition!” Little Dragon interjected.

Little Tiger nodded awkwardly. “I want to give it a try.”

“There’s still half a month until the competition. If you practice hard, you should have enough time,” Lan commented. She believed that, as martial artists, their physical prowess would allow them to handle a bow with some basic training.

Even if they couldn’t match the seasoned archers, they wouldn’t fare much worse.

“No, no, no,” Little Dragon waved his hand. “You’re talking about the finals, Lan—the ones who make it there go on to compete in the imperial city. To even qualify for the finals, you have to register and pass the preliminary round in three days. Technically, if I ask my father to recommend you, you could go straight to the finals. But you have to hit the target at thirty paces first.”

“I can do it!” Little Tiger declared, slinging his bow over his shoulder and heading to the monastery’s back hills.

“You were a bit harsh just now. He’s serious about this,” Lan said.

“I wasn’t lying. If he can really hit the target at thirty paces, I’ll get my father to recommend him.”

“I think you two should go practice with him,” Sun Meng suggested.

“Alright, let’s go!” Lan said, dragging Little Dragon by the sleeve as they hurried out.

After a while, Sun Meng followed them, sensing trouble was on the horizon.

Yet, for once, Sun Meng’s instincts seemed to be off. For three days straight, Little Tiger barely managed to score within five rings at ten meters. Little Dragon had had enough—he was, after all, the one holding the target.

“I’ve had it! Little Tiger, face reality—you really aren’t cut out for archery!” With that, Little Dragon threw the target down and stormed back to the monastery.

Though martial arts training had made them resilient even in the cold, standing motionless in the snow for hours, holding up a target, was too much even for him.

Lan leapt down from a tree to comfort him. “Maybe you’re just being too hasty. Why are you so fixated on this?”

“Do you remember what happened at the Whispering Pavilion? I saw my father and brother. They said I’d forgotten my roots—that I was a hunter’s son who couldn’t shoot a bow. I—” Little Tiger lowered his head. “And now, it seems they were right.”

“That was just an illusion, not reality!” Lan said. “Haven’t you always aspired to be a great martial artist, like Abbot Sanzo?”

“But I can’t even master something as simple as archery!” Little Tiger, sounding defeated, threw down his bow and ran into the woods.

Lan wanted to chase after him, but a hand rested on her shoulder. “Let him think it through on his own. If he doesn’t, this will become a knot in his heart,” Sun Meng advised.

“But I believe Little Tiger can do it!” Lan said, looking at Sun Meng. “Is it that you believe he can, or is it your future self telling you he can?” Sun Meng asked, gazing at her.

Lan’s eyes filled with a watery blue light. She laughed softly, shifted her weight, and slipped free from Sun Meng’s grip.

“When did you realize?” Though her voice was still Lan’s, her expression and bearing had changed entirely—it was Future Lan!