They had been walking for over half a day.
That’s right—walking.
Although cultivators were supposed to be calm and composed, Su Wan’er could no longer tolerate this sluggish pace.
Her injuries had mostly healed, and her cultivation had even reached the Late Foundation Building Stage.
The Grand Water Spirit Root within her constantly absorbed Earth Spiritual Energy, making her feel full of power.
Logically speaking, with her current state, she could fly anywhere she wanted by sword.
Even if she couldn’t truly tread air like a Golden Core Senior, her speed would still be a hundred or even a thousand times faster than this.
But the Senior insisted on walking.
And not very quickly either—slow and leisurely, as if admiring the scenery.
Su Wan’er followed behind Li Chen, staring at his unhurried back, a fire burning in her heart.
She pursed her lips, finally unable to hold back.
“Senior,” Su Wan’er said, trying to keep her tone gentle, “why don’t we fly? That would get us anywhere much faster.”
Li Chen’s steps paused slightly.
He wished he could!
But he couldn’t!
Forget sword flight—he didn’t even know the most basic treading air.
The System didn’t teach him either.
He could feel the vast Spiritual Power in his Dantian, but he had no idea how to use it!
Li Chen’s mind raced, but his face remained still.
He stopped, turned around, and looked at Su Wan’er with a calm gaze.
“Do you think Venerable Self is rushing somewhere?”
His tone was light, carrying a hint of condescending scrutiny.
Li Chen shook his head, as if looking at a child who didn’t understand.
“Venerable Self has wandered the world for over two hundred years and never travels by air.”
Su Wan’er blinked, confused.
“Why?”
“Because,” Li Chen raised a finger, pointing at his own head, then pointed at the dirt beneath his feet, “the worst thing a cultivator can do is forget where he came from.”
He crouched down, casually picked up a stone from the roadside, and weighed it in his hand.
“Look at this stone.”
Su Wan’er leaned in, staring intently at the ordinary stone, trying to find some hidden meaning.
“No one knows how many years it has lain on this path. Wind and sun, cattle trampling and horses stepping—it stays here, unmoving, unshaken.”
“If a person blindly pursues speed and the scenery up high, he will miss the dirt beneath his feet, miss the subtle truths between heaven and earth. Flying too fast blurs the view.”
He paused, glanced at Su Wan’er, and his tone turned meaningful:
“Cultivation cultivates not only power but also the mind. If the mind is not calm, no matter how fast you fly, you’re nothing but a headless fly.”
“The same goes for cultivators—no matter how high you stand, you must eventually land; no matter how far you go, you must eventually stop. If you only chase speed, you’ll miss the scenery along the way.”
Su Wan’er was stunned.
She looked down at the winding mountain path beneath her feet, at the weeds, gravel, and ants by the roadside.
Suddenly, things she had never paid attention to before seemed to hold more meaning.
Li Chen placed the stone back where it was and stood up.
A moment ago, she had felt that walking was a waste of time—why walk when you could fly?
Why be slow when you could be fast?
But the Senior’s words were like a bucket of cold water poured over her head.
No matter how high you stand, you must eventually land; no matter how far you go, you must eventually stop.
Li Chen nodded and turned to continue walking.
His pace was neither fast nor slow, each step steady, as if measuring the length of the road.
His Fire Robe fluttered gently in the breeze, his back as composed as a painting.
Su Wan’er looked at that back, and the doubt that had just risen in her heart was suppressed again.
What the Senior said made sense.
How could a great master like him not know how to fly?
He simply disdained to.
She hurried to catch up, no longer urging, obediently following behind Li Chen.
Li Chen walked ahead, looking calm on the surface, but inside he was panicking like crazy.
That whole spiel about “cultivation of the mind” was something he made up on the spot.
“Wandering the world for two hundred years,” “never traveling by air”—all lies made up on the fly.
As he walked, he cursed himself inwardly:
‘Li Chen, you can’t even fly, and yet you dare lecture her on “cultivation of the mind”?’
But what else could he do?
He couldn’t exactly tell Su Wan’er, “Sorry, I can’t,” could he?
Then all his previous acting would be for nothing.
His Fantasy Value would drop to zero, and the cultivation he just obtained would revert.
So he had to bluff, the more mystical the better, the harder to understand the better.
After all, words from a great master were called “enlightening wisdom.”
Thinking this, Li Chen straightened his back a little more.
Su Wan’er followed behind Li Chen, staring at his unhurried back, and gently bit her lip again.
She recalled what the Senior had said earlier: cultivation requires cultivating the mind, staying grounded.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, only…
The Blood Lotus Sect could catch up at any moment.
She wasn’t afraid of death, but she didn’t want to drag the Senior down because of herself.
After walking for a while longer, Su Wan’er finally couldn’t help but speak softly:
“Senior, this junior has a question.”
Li Chen didn’t stop walking, just gave a faint “mm.”
“If the Blood Lotus Sect catches up, this junior worries that her low cultivation might hold you back. Would Senior be willing to tell me… how this junior should cooperate?”
She lowered her head slightly, not daring to meet Li Chen’s eyes.
Li Chen paused, glanced sideways at Su Wan’er, and inwardly relaxed a little.
This girl, at least she wasn’t urging him to fly.
“You’re worried about pursuers?”
“Yes.”
Su Wan’er nodded honestly.
“This junior knows Senior is immensely powerful, but if enemies come endlessly, this junior doesn’t want to become a burden.”
Li Chen turned around, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked over Su Wan’er’s head at the distant rolling mountains.
“The fact that you think this way shows you’re not foolish.”
He spoke slowly:
“However, there’s one thing you’ve misunderstood.”
Su Wan’er was taken aback.
“What?”
“You think Venerable Self walks slowly because he isn’t in a hurry?”
Su Wan’er didn’t answer, but her eyes clearly said, “Isn’t that the case?”
Li Chen shook his head lightly, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“Venerable Self walks slowly because he is waiting for someone.”
“Waiting for someone? Who?”
“The ones chasing you.”
Su Wan’er’s expression instantly changed.
Li Chen watched her reaction, still calm and composed:
“Do you think the Blood Lotus Sect will just let this go? Yin Wuli is dead, but the people behind him won’t let it rest. Instead of having them watch from the shadows, it’s better to give them a chance and let them come to us.”
“… “
Su Wan’er stood frozen, taking a long moment to come to her senses.
So that was it.
The Senior wasn’t in a rush—he was deliberately slowing down to lure the snake out of its hole.
And she had been worried about holding him back…
In truth, the Senior had already calculated everything.
At this thought, Su Wan’er felt a wave of shame, but even more relief.
The Senior truly had his reasons for everything.
“This junior understands.”
She hurried to catch up, her tone firm:
“Senior, rest assured. No matter what happens, this junior will not act on her own. I will follow all of Senior’s arrangements.”
Li Chen waved a hand without turning back:
“Mm, keep up.”
His pace remained unhurried, his Fire Robe gently swaying in the mountain wind.
Su Wan’er followed behind him, and the restlessness in her heart had largely dissipated without her noticing.
After walking a bit more, the outline of a small town appeared in the distance, cooking smoke rising in wisps.
Li Chen’s stomach let out a timely growl.
Without changing his expression, he kept walking toward the town.
“We’ll rest here tonight,” he said.
“Yes, Senior.”
Su Wan’er responded obediently, a faint, unconscious curve forming at the corner of her lips.
Their figures gradually merged into the afterglow of the setting sun.