Chapter Thirty-Three: Descending the Mountain and Going Undercover

The wind rose, whipping the edges of Feng Ke’er’s robe with a fierce rustle.

At the mountaintop, the sky was awash with five-colored clouds, rolling and tumbling, forming a massive whirlpool of hues. From its center, a pillar of red light, thick enough for two people to encircle, shot straight down, enveloping Feng Jiu completely.

Inside the pillar, Feng Jiu grew taller by half a foot, visibly so, then broader, plumping out in a sudden spurt. His tiny crimson crown, once the size of a peanut, swelled to that of a pea. Finally, fine gray down sprouted from his body like bamboo shoots after rain.

That down grew with the wind, and in the blink of an eye, Feng Jiu transformed from a bald Israeli chicken into a huge, shaggy gray fowl.

Two breaths later, the pillar vanished, and the wind and clouds dispersed.

These days, Feng Ke’er had seen much and learned swiftly, yet even she was thrown off by this sight. “No way—he can advance like that?” This fellow truly had luck on his side!

Feng Jiu, finished regulating his breath, lazily narrowed his now larger blue eyes. “This hardly counts as an advancement. I merely had a moment of enlightenment and regained the cultivation I’d lost.” In these unusual times, he hadn’t intended to cause such a spectacle. But cultivation was fickle: when it diminished, it did so quietly; when it surged, it shook the heavens.

“You—are you at the third stage’s peak now?” That was peak Core Formation! Feng Ke’er’s eyes sparkled.

What was the third stage’s peak! Back in his prime, his cultivation was at the eighth stage’s peak! Feng Jiu snorted disdainfully, “They must have seen the phenomenon. It’s not safe to linger; we must descend the mountain at once.” With that, he swept his wing and shot off like wildfire.

Below the stone cliff, the makeshift shelter Feng Ke’er had built was instantly reduced to ashes.

So imposing! It seemed his firepower had increased by several times!

“Hey, my blue bundle!” Feng Ke’er came to her senses, stomping in anguish. Advancement, so what? That reckless brat! That was her entire fortune!

Feng Jiu rolled his eyes. “What a shabby bundle! It should’ve been burned long ago! You ought to get used to using storage pouches.”

“There’s a rice pot and pills in there!” Feng Ke’er glared back, undaunted. “You’d better hope they’re unharmed, or I’ll pluck every feather off you and turn you back into a bald chicken!” With that, she rushed toward the scene of the fire.

“Stubborn girl!” Feng Jiu took a deep breath, silently reciting, “Conquer with virtue.” Hmph, the fire he wielded was the legendary Samadhi True Fire! She had no understanding, no appreciation! But considering her role in his advancement, he’d let her be.

Feng Ke’er grabbed a stick and hurriedly poked through the ashes. The pill bottles were reduced to dust. The pills themselves, like the rice pot, were burned bright red.

She stared blankly: too hot to touch—how would she carry them?

Feng Jiu rolled his eyes, hooked his wing, and the rice pot and pills flew to its tip. “Let me hold them. If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late.”

The fiery rice pot hadn’t so much as singed the fine down on his wingtip! Feng Ke’er shrugged, tossed aside the stick, and got to the point. “Chicken, you still haven’t told me how to change my face.” As the saying goes, sharpening the knife doesn’t delay chopping wood. With her current face and frame, what was the point of fleeing?

Almost forgot the main task. Feng Jiu flicked his wingtip, stowing the pot and pills, and said seriously, “It’s simple. When you draw the charm, just picture what you want to look like, and you’ll become that. Otherwise, you’ll stay the same.”

So simple, so plain… Feng Ke’er was speechless.

What should she become? She scratched her head, deciding it was best to turn into a nondescript man—a face with no distinct features, impossible to pick out from a crowd.

She acted at once: eyes half-shut, right hand forming a seal, quietly reciting the incantation, left hand drawing the charm in the air. In her mind’s eye, the image of Xu Sanduo from a certain TV series appeared, and she spun in a circle. “Change!”

Thus, Feng Jiu saw a young man: not tall, not short, not fat, not thin, neither handsome nor ugly.

“How’s this?” Feng Ke’er, delighted, touched her face and grinned: aha, her duck-egg face had become square, her nose flattened, her brows thickened… Success! She’d really changed!

But this was too much! Even a second-rate sect like Cloud Ascension wouldn’t take such an utterly ordinary disciple! Feng Jiu frowned. “No good.” Raising his wing, he flicked Feng Ke’er’s brow.

It was like being stabbed—sharp pain. Unprepared, Feng Ke’er gasped and leapt back several meters, clutching her face.

The pain vanished swiftly, but a small bump, the size of a pimple, appeared at her brow.

“Hey, damn chicken, what did you do?” She rubbed her forehead, furious.

Don’t be fooled by the tiny cinnabar mole—now, she had three parts more immortal aura! Feng Jiu nodded in satisfaction. “Much better. Now you look like a cultivator.”

Feng Ke’er protested. “Are you crazy? We’re on the run, and you mark my forehead so obviously!”

“Let them search for you by that mark,” Feng Jiu said coldly.

Feng Ke’er got the idea, muttered grudgingly, and stomped her foot. “Let’s go.” Damn, why hadn’t she thought to mislead them, to confuse their vision! No wonder this old monster had survived for over a hundred thousand years—cunning indeed!

She’d barely taken two steps when her right shoulder suddenly sank. Turning, she saw that someone had settled comfortably on her shoulder.

“You!” She glared. “Chicken, you’re now at the third stage’s peak! Still playing at being a child—aren’t you embarrassed?”

He’d already been called ‘chicken,’ so what did it matter if she added ‘brat’ as well? Feng Jiu closed his eyes, indifferent. “Someone promised to carry me.” Hmph, with a ready mount, why should he tire himself!

In the Divine Realm, he never traveled without a retinue and a flying palanquin! Of course, the lower world was different, so he was already being discreet.

Super lazy bird! Confirmed.

Escape was urgent; she had no time to argue. Feng Ke’er stomped her foot, activated Swift Step and Water-Glide, and hurried downhill.

It was their luck.

The sect master of Cloud Ascension, after hearing the report, reasoned that Feng Ke’er was merely a new disciple with no spiritual power, and Feng Jiu was still featherless—a pair like them couldn’t possibly make it past the outer gates in three days. Moreover, having already broken precedent by accepting a Postnatal disciple in a green robe, he dared not stir up more trouble, lest it attract suspicion from outsiders. The last thing he wanted was such attention. So, he immediately sealed the news, withdrew the inner sect disciples, and ordered the outer sect to be on alert. Using the excuse that a punished disciple had escaped from the dining hall, he had the dining hall and the stewards’ hall jointly search every outer sect courtyard.

With no sect master overseeing and no green-robed inner disciples to help, the outer sect leaders were flustered by the phenomenon at Wild Chicken Slope. Before leaving, the sect master had made it clear: Feng Ke’er and Feng Jiu’s cultivation was too low—they wouldn’t dare risk Wild Chicken Slope. For now, focus on searching the new disciples’ courtyards, especially those with whom Feng Ke’er had frequent contact.

Thus, their first thought was Bodhi. However, they were too late—the disciple sent to investigate reported that Bodhi was missing.

Now, they were fretting about reporting to the sect master when, adding insult to injury, Wild Chicken Slope erupted again. Was this not slapping the sect master in the face?

After a brief meeting, they decided to send disciples to the mountaintop immediately while simultaneously reporting to the sect master via transmission talisman.

Receiving the message, the sect master was furious, shouting, “Search the mountain! Don’t leave a single crevice unturned!” He stormed back to the outer sect.

High-profile or not, he no longer cared. Damn Feng Ke’er, ungrateful, treating the sect as a monstrous threat, daring to risk herself and Feng Jiu—he’d crush them both!

Yet, by the time the leaders had gathered the outer sect’s Qi Refining disciples and completed their preparations, Feng Ke’er and Feng Jiu had already descended Wild Chicken Slope.

The leaders, clustered around the sect master, soared overhead on flying swords, heading straight for the mountaintop.

At the foot of the mountain, hundreds of Qi Refining disciples, fully armed, split into four groups to begin the search.

Feng Ke’er and Feng Jiu had just emerged from the woods at the mountain’s base when they were cornered by one of the teams, with nowhere to hide.

The squad leader was an old acquaintance: Senior Brother Jiang Yuan. Even from several yards away, he called out to Feng Ke’er, “Hey, you, come here!”

This time, Feng Ke’er felt no fear. First, Feng Jiu had said these were mere Qi Refining disciples—not worth worrying about. Second, thanks to the transformation spell, even the old headmaster wouldn’t recognize her now. As for Feng Jiu, he was already invisible. With the Concealment Charm shielding him, revealing powders were useless.

Gripping her wooden stick, Feng Ke’er jogged over, bowed, and greeted him.

Jiang Yuan, seeing it was a new disciple without cultivation, grunted in disgust. “Name? Which courtyard? Why are you on the mountain?” Always these troublesome rookies, making it impossible for him to focus on his own advancement.

“Wu Yong, New Courtyard No. 108,” Feng Ke’er replied, no longer the docile girl—her tone was sharp, almost defiant. “Senior Brother, I didn’t mean to climb the mountain, just wanted to catch some wild game in the woods.” So what if he was from the stewards’ hall? After two encounters, she’d figured him out: arrogant, barely remembered anyone. He could go to Liangshan for a strategist.

Sure enough, Jiang Yuan glanced at her and waved impatiently. “Move aside! We’re training on the mountain, don’t make trouble.”

“Yes, Senior Brother,” Feng Ke’er bowed again, stepped aside with her stick.

“Senior Brother Jiang, Uncle Liu said to sprinkle revealing powder,” someone whispered nearby. Their orders were that Feng Ke’er was a prodigy, but possessed by evil—do not approach, use revealing powder to suppress.

Jiang Yuan rolled his eyes. “Are you blind? Can’t even tell male from female!” He admitted to lying to the elders—he really couldn’t remember what Feng Ke’er looked like. But he remembered clearly: she was stingy and utterly lacking in tact.

How wise! Feng Ke’er quickly raised her eyes, glanced at the speaker, and openly sided with Senior Brother Jiang.

Everyone around covered their mouths, muffling laughter.

The speaker blushed and fell silent, shrinking into the crowd.

“Let’s go, into the mountain!” Just a minor episode, Jiang Yuan turned and led the group away.

Feng Ke’er, following sect rules, stood quietly by the roadside. Only after they’d all left did she raise her head, watching their backs and wiping cold sweat from her brow.

Guilt—like a thief. She was infiltrating enemy territory for a covert mission; this level of nerve wouldn’t do. She needed more practice!

Tongtian Codex 33_Chapter Thirty-Three: Going Down the Mountain to Infiltrate—update complete!