Chapter 103: Encountering the Bodhi Seed Once Again

Feng Ke’er remembered that near the Azure Cloud Sect, there was a great riverbank. An ancient tribe had once settled there. Back then, when she left the Azure Cloud Sect riding on Feng Jiu’s cotton cloud, she passed this place and happened to save a female hunter of the tribe from the deadly tusks of a mammoth. She remembered it vividly—after the initial shock, the female hunter was revered by the rest of her people as though she were divine.

More than three hundred years had passed; the world had changed beyond recognition, and that huntress must have long since turned to dust. Yet Feng Ke’er yearned to know how the story had continued. Had that huntress become the chieftain because of the event? Over three centuries, primitive life must have transformed dramatically—what would that tribe be like now?

Burdened with questions, Feng Ke’er traveled north to seek the riverbank of her memory—truthfully, she was unfamiliar with this continent. She had, after all, arrived in this world like a sudden gust of wind. The only places she’d visited were the Great Blue Mountains where the Feng clan lived, the Azure Cloud Sect, the Grand Canyon where the dragon eye fossil was found, the Eastern Sea’s coast, and the Sea of Shadows—barely more than a handful. She’d only come across the riverbank by chance, paying it little heed. Fortunately, the riverbank was not far from the Azure Cloud Sect. Using the sect as her point of reference, she could estimate the general direction and even remembered the terrain, so she felt confident she could find it.

By her calculations, she arrived at her destination the next day.

Yet she could not find the riverbank she remembered. Before her, a roaring river cut through towering mountains. There was no alluvial plain, no vast grassy shore, no domed huts—nothing but an uninhabited wilderness stretching for miles.

What had happened? Had her memory failed, or had she miscalculated? Feng Ke’er recalculated everything, but her direction was correct.

Still, after searching more than two hundred miles around, she found nothing resembling the riverbank of her memory.

Exhausted after half a day, she stood at the mountain’s peak, gazing at the endless river below, her spirit sinking into gloom. Over three hundred years ago, when the goddess Nuwa descended in rebellion, she had triggered a string of catastrophes—torrential rain, earthquakes, floods. Perhaps the riverbank had vanished in those disasters.

Even after countless millennia, before the forces of nature, humanity remains fragile—how much more so for a tribe of defenseless primitives?

Lost in these thoughts, she heard a strange voice behind her: “Excuse me, fellow cultivator?”

Her heart gave a jolt as she spun around in surprise—since when had someone come so close without her noticing? If it had been an enemy, she might have perished without even knowing how.

About a hundred meters away, a young male cultivator stood, clad in a brown Daoist robe, a great black iron sword—unopened, without a scabbard—slung across his back. As soon as Feng Ke’er turned, he broke into a heartfelt smile: “It’s you! It really is Sister Ke’er!” With that, he started to approach, clearly delighted.

In the world of cultivation, when meeting a stranger, it was customary to maintain a safe distance of a hundred meters or so, as a sign of harmless intent.

Feng Ke’er quickly called out for him to stop, clasped her fists in greeting, and asked politely, “May I ask your honored name?” The youth had thick eyebrows, bright eyes, an upright bearing, and a warm, neighborly smile—he did not seem a villain. Yet, as the saying goes, one can know a face but not a heart. Alone with a stranger in such a remote place, caution was warranted—especially when she’d never seen him before. Moreover, he had managed to approach within a hundred meters without her noticing, and there seemed to be a faint mist around him, rendering her proud supernatural vision useless—she could not gauge his cultivation at all.

The young man pointed to his own face, grinning: “Sister Ke’er, it’s me—Bodhi!” He seemed almost incredulous. “Have you forgotten me?”

Bodhi? Feng Ke’er was taken aback. Dusty memories sprang open—a chubby, childish face appeared in her mind, but it looked nothing like the handsome man before her.

“It’s me,” the young man insisted. “Back then, when Sister Ke’er disappeared, you took her place and were sent to the Azure Cloud Sect with me. Don’t you remember? Fairy Mo Xue of the sect was only supposed to fetch you, but the high priest wanted to sneak me into the sect as well. Thanks to your kind words, I was admitted…”

There were some things best left unspoken. In truth, he had been sold out and had even counted the money for them. Naturally, only Bodhi could know such details. Blushing, Feng Ke’er quickly cut him off and changed the subject: “Bodhi, what brings you here?”

“I was just revisiting old places and happened to pass by,” Bodhi replied, pointing to the sky. “I saw a figure below that looked like you—and it really was!”

“You were so young then. I’m surprised you remember me.” Warmed, Feng Ke’er closed the distance between them. “You vanished so suddenly—I even asked your fellow disciples about you. You must have returned to the Feng clan after completing your task, right?” Privately, she’d wondered whether Bodhi had been sent to seek out the Realm of Heartbreak. If that was his mission, he had hidden it well.

But Bodhi shook his head, looking somewhat sheepish. According to his account, things had gone like this: Feng Queyi suspected the true Feng Ke’er’s disappearance was tied to the high priest. Her own bitter experiences in the sect led her to believe the Azure Cloud Sect would not welcome the Feng clan’s rise. So she and the clan leader decided to send someone clever into the sect to probe its secrets. They chose Bodhi as the most resourceful among them. Unfortunately, Bodhi’s mission quickly failed—he was targeted by a senior disciple named Qin, a scion of a great sect family. Young and inexperienced, Bodhi panicked and fled using the Earth-Escape Talisman Feng Queyi had given him. Ashamed to return to the clan and lost in the vast wilderness, he wandered the wilds until, by chance, a master rescued him. Otherwise, Bodhi might not have survived to tell the tale.

“My master saw promise in me and took me as a disciple, bringing me back to his sect. This is my first time descending the mountain in many years,” Bodhi said, giving Ke’er a once-over and smiling. “Sister Ke’er, you’ve reached the third level of Core Formation, haven’t you? Congratulations. But judging by your attire, you must have left the Azure Cloud Sect as well?”

He was right; Feng Ke’er had used a Concealment Talisman to suppress her cultivation to the third level of Core Formation. Traveling, it was best not to reveal one’s wealth. She now wore an ordinary silver spider silk robe—a mid-grade spiritual garment, well-suited to her current cultivation. The robe was silver-gray. The Azure Cloud Sect had strict rules about attire: elite disciples at the Core Formation stage wore green robes, while ordinary disciples’ robes could not reach below the knee. Hers matched neither the style nor color required in the sect, so Bodhi’s question was understandable.

It also meant his cultivation exceeded the third level of Core Formation.

Feng Ke’er nodded cheerfully. “That’s right. After you vanished, they questioned me repeatedly. In the end, I quietly slipped out of the sect myself. But I haven’t been as lucky as you—these years, I’ve drifted from place to place, never finding a suitable sect to join.” In the cultivation world, everyone guarded their hearts; truth and falsehood mingled in every word. She could tell Bodhi’s story was similar. It was only natural—after all, they hadn’t seen each other in years, and weren’t particularly close.

She sized him up, envy plain on her face. “After three hundred years, it looks like I should call you senior brother now.”

Bodhi coughed awkwardly, waving his hands. “Sister Ke’er, you flatter me. I’ve only just reached the third level of Core Formation myself. My master gave me a treasure before I left the mountain—it conceals my cultivation, which is why you couldn’t see through it.”

“I see.” Feng Ke’er nodded, secretly weighing his words. With her vision, she could see through anyone below the Ascension stage. In three hundred years, Bodhi was unlikely to have surpassed that. So he was probably telling the truth. That he admitted to possessing such a treasure showed his sincerity.

Her suspicion eased considerably. How exhausting all this caution was! In her heart, Feng Ke’er missed her days in the Sea of Shadows. Interacting with demon cultivators was far more straightforward—meet, fight, and be done with it. No need for all this endless suspicion!

Since they were headed the same way, Feng Ke’er invited him to travel together.

Bodhi happily accepted, his eyes twinkling as he asked, “Sister Ke’er, I saw you standing here looking sorrowful—were you remembering something sad?”

He was over three hundred years old, but still as quick to seize the moment as ever.

Feng Ke’er shrugged and recounted the events of long ago, then pointed to the river below and sighed, “Three hundred years have passed, and the world has changed. I was merely caught up in old memories.”

Unexpectedly, Bodhi smiled, stepped forward to stand beside her facing the river, closed his eyes, and began calculating on his fingertips in the proper immortal fashion.

He truly looked the part, and Feng Ke’er found herself momentarily entranced.

After a while, Bodhi opened his eyes and sighed. “Sister Ke’er, more than three hundred years ago, there was indeed a great riverbank beneath these waters. But after endless rains and floods, the river rose and this land was submerged, becoming what it is now.”

Feng Ke’er’s heart tightened. “What about the people here? Did they move elsewhere?”

Bodhi glanced at her, his expression complicated. “No. Before the disaster, the tribe was destroyed. They made the huntress their leader, and after feasting on the mammoth, she thought herself blessed by the gods. She led her people to hunt mammoths, but angered the herd. The enraged elephants stampeded out of the forest and trampled the tribe flat. None survived.”

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head. Feng Ke’er shivered violently. How laughable, how pitiful—she had always congratulated herself on saving that huntress, yet it was precisely her interference that doomed the entire tribe.

Regret or shame, it mattered little now—all she could do was remember this bloody lesson: everything in the world has its own way of survival, and she was but one part of it. She must never again carelessly wield her spiritual power.

Bodhi gently patted her shoulder, comforting her, “Sister Ke’er, your intentions were good. If my master hadn’t repeatedly warned me not to meddle in the mortal world, I too would have helped that huntress.”

Knowing he meant well, Feng Ke’er suppressed her guilt and thanked him sincerely.

“I wonder how the Azure Cloud Sect is faring,” Bodhi said, seizing the chance to change the subject. “I’ve been secluded in my sect for so long, I know little of the outside world. And you, Sister Ke’er?” (To be continued)

Tongtian Compendium, Chapter 103: Bodhi Appears Again—End of Update!