Chapter Thirty-Three: The Great Escape in the Wasteland (Part One)

Yu Lang had not yet figured out how to respond when Qingqing stepped forward first.

“Sister Yuhuan, I am Yu Lang’s younger sister. This competition is of great importance to him. He has poured so much effort into securing first place...”

Yang Yuhuan was momentarily startled, but her smile remained radiant. “You misunderstand, Sister Qingqing. I have no interest in the top prize of this competition. For a woman, virtue lies in modesty. Reaching the Sea-Roving Realm is already more than enough for me. I have no intention of entering the mountains for the assessment. I simply yearn for the Moon-Washing Academy, and since His Majesty has commanded me to leave the palace, I took the opportunity for a bit of leisure. At most, I’ll stay a year or two before returning to serve His Majesty. Please, do not worry.”

“This Jade Purity Vase is a trinket His Majesty collected for me. I thought Yu Lang might find it useful for the competition, so I brought it as a token of gratitude for his previous help.” With that, Yang Yuhuan handed Yu Lang a slender white porcelain bottle and departed at her leisure.

Qingqing then felt she had let her own suspicions get the better of her.

Yu Lang offered a few words of comfort, then examined the so-called “Jade Purity Vase.” Small as it was, it felt surprisingly heavy in his hand. He sniffed the mouth of the bottle; inside was nothing but ordinary clear water. When he inverted it, the water flowed out for a long while before finally running dry.

By eye, the bottle could not hold more than a teacup’s worth, yet the water poured out filled at least half a vat. After some thought, Yu Lang concluded the vase’s main function was water storage. In the mountain-sealing competition, finding clean water was a major challenge. With this Jade Purity Vase, he would indeed have a significant advantage.

“Yu Lang…” After a moment’s hesitation, Qingqing spoke up. “I’m also planning to withdraw from this round. The slot for cleansing marrow is too important for you. My participation wouldn’t matter much, and might even hold you back…”

Yu Lang grew a little annoyed. “When did things become so formal between us? Even if there were ten Qingqings, I could take care of all of you. What do you mean by holding me back?”

Qingqing shot him a sidelong glance, secretly thinking: Dream on. If there were ten of me, you’d certainly profit from it. At that, she suddenly felt shy, her cheeks flushing. Composing herself, she said, “No, I simply dislike the hardships of the mountains. I’m not after that slot, so why make things difficult for myself?”

With the matter settled thus, Yu Lang could not insist further and had to accept Qingqing’s decision. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt. He had always known Qingqing to be an extraordinary woman, unwilling to live in a man’s shadow. Without his presence, she would surely have fought for her own place.

———

The mountains on the border of Jinling Prefecture were not particularly high or perilous, but thick with trees and undergrowth—an ideal place for a trial.

As the top scorer in the literary exam, Yu Lang had priority entry. He took a deep breath, supply crate on his back, yet lingered at the entrance to the mountain path.

His dorm mates had all come to wish him luck. Xue Wenyang distributed some hunger-suppressing pills, much like the compressed biscuits of Yu Lang’s former world—practical in these wilds. Everyone thanked him. Li Dahu, ever unburdened, was known by now to have treasures galore, including a mustard-seed storage treasure, and seemed the most relaxed of all. He lightened the mood with a few pointless jokes.

Yu Lang thanked each friend in turn, then, shouldering his supply box, began the ascent, the sounds of camaraderie fading behind him. Soon, the vast mountain seemed to contain only himself.

Halfway up, he found a grass-thatched hut. Yu Lang would never choose such an obvious spot for his base—too exposed, a sure target. Even a master like Nan Jiyun would avoid it. Whether by attrition or sheer numbers, one would inevitably be worn down.

He kept climbing. The range stretched for dozens of miles, with peaks nearly all at the same elevation, so there was no real “summit.” Despite the presence of one hundred eighty competitors, the vastness of the battleground made direct encounters rare.

On the sheer side of a peak, Yu Lang discovered a small cave, barely enough for half a body. He swung down on a vine and, using his short blade, widened the hollow until it could just fit both his pack and himself.

The short blade left by Yu Jiao was indeed extraordinary. Though cutting hard stone took effort, the blade suffered neither wear nor dulling. Yu Lang gathered wild grass to cover the entrance, further concealing the already well-hidden cave. With such camouflage, the chance of discovery was slim.

Satisfied with his new temporary shelter, Yu Lang stroked the cold steel of his short blade, growing ever more fond of it. He even thought up a fitting name—“Grindstone.” The world was full of whetstones, but rarely a Grindstone Blade.

The Grindstone Blade was always cold. No matter how many sparks flew as Yu Lang hacked at stone, the blade itself remained chilled. Ordinarily, metal conducts heat well, but this knife was an exception. Yu Lang liked being an exception—after all, having crossed from the twenty-first century to the Tang Dynasty, he was one himself.

A deep bell echoed in the mountains, signaling that all one hundred eighty Moon-Washing students had entered.

Yu Lang knelt and traced diagrams on the ground with Grindstone, strategizing about when to make his move. The most efficient approach seemed to be hiding in caves like this one until the others had fought half their battles. Then, entering the fray, one could potentially seize many “Sources” at once. But the risk was great—those still standing by then would be truly formidable. Even if he managed to win, he might fall prey to opportunists lurking in wait.

After much deliberation, Yu Lang decided: the sooner he acted, the better. As one of the first to enter, he was also the first to settle in. If he struck while others were still finding their footing, he could seize enough “Sources,” then hide in the cave until the half-month contest ended and the seal was lifted. But how many Sources would be enough? The foolproof number was ninety; with his own, ninety-one. Since there were only one hundred eighty contestants, if he could remain hidden to the end, victory would be certain.

With the sun just dipping, Yu Lang prepared to make his move. After all, at night his hearing and agility were no match for others; daylight favored him more. The main reason his senses were weaker was his unawakened dantian. Although the soul pool within Grindstone served a similar purpose, it was only a temporary vessel; without the nourishment and transformation of true inner energy, his five senses lagged behind those of real cultivators.

No sooner had Yu Lang left his cave and climbed the ridge than he ran straight into a female student.

Startled, the girl panicked and, summoning all her Sea-Roving Realm strength, shoved Yu Lang from the mountain peak!