Chapter Sixty-Three: The Fruits Emerge

Liu Feng and Zhang Luoxue chatted idly, and time passed swiftly; now the sun was almost setting. At that moment, Zeng Lu and Zhao Yang emerged from the forest, holding several plump rabbits in their hands. Zeng Lu approached with a smile and said, “We’re in for a treat tonight. Let’s have ‘Chef Zhao’ show us his skills.”

Zhao Yang cleaned the rabbits, took out the prepared spices, and thoroughly coated the meat. After marinating for a while, he placed the meat on a makeshift wooden grill, then kindled a fire. Before long, an alluring aroma of roasting rabbit drifted through the air.

The scent attracted the burly young man, Huang Lingshan, who stood up and walked over to Zhao Yang, his voice booming, “I wonder if Old Huang has the fortune to taste ‘Chef Zhao’s’ handiwork tonight?”

Zhao Yang had a good impression of him and smiled slightly, replying, “If Brother Huang wants a taste, of course you can.”

Huang Lingshan laughed joyfully, “Then I won’t stand on ceremony. I’ll owe you one, brother.” With that, he sat down directly.

After some time, Zhao Yang distributed the roasted meat among the group.

Zhao Guang took a bite, his face showing satisfaction. “Excellent—tender, smooth, and full of lingering flavor.”

Huang Lingshan nodded repeatedly, saying it had been a long time since he’d eaten something so delicious. In short, everyone was very pleased with the meal.

By this time, night had fallen. The moon had risen in the sky, a bright, round disk hanging high above, casting its light upon the world below.

Liu Feng sat cross-legged, circulating the Qi Qian technique. Streams of true energy surged rapidly through his body, incessantly washing his flesh and tempering his bones, making his body ever stronger. Ultimately, he would achieve a complete transformation, his physical form wholly enhanced.

Just then, the silver-white beast pelt draped over him suddenly stirred. A mysterious force welled up, merging with his spiritual power.

Instantly, Liu Feng sensed his spiritual strength rapidly extending outward, his perception magnified many times over. Within several hundred meters, every blade of grass and tree entered his "sight," each detail crystal clear.

He "saw" Zhao Yu, Zhang Ming, and several others sitting five hundred meters away. They appeared to be secretly conversing, glancing repeatedly in his direction, their eyes glinting with cold malice. This made Liu Feng’s heart stir.

He “looked” at the others. Some sat cross-legged, quietly cultivating; others chatted in low voices; still others’ eyes flickered as if plotting something.

Suddenly, Liu Feng observed purple mists rising atop the mountain. At first, they were mere wisps, like threads. As time passed, they thickened, growing until they became a swirling purple fog, enveloping the forest.

At that instant, Liu Feng’s body trembled and he opened his eyes. The vast tide of spiritual power receded, and he could no longer sense the purple mist.

Zhao Yang, Zeng Lu, and the others all sat cross-legged, waiting for the appearance of the Yin-Yang Spirit Fruit.

Liu Feng stood up and walked over to Zhang Luoxue, who was gazing up at the moon, lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Liu Feng asked softly.

Zhang Luoxue withdrew her gaze from the sky, her face tinged with helplessness and a touch of sorrow. In a low voice, she said, “When the Spirit Fruit appears, I fear everyone will start fighting for it. Bloodshed is certain.”

Liu Feng sighed. “That’s the law of the jungle. Martial artists will do anything to grow stronger, even risking their lives knowingly.”

“At times like that, you realize how fragile life truly is, how easily it can be snuffed out. What, in the end, is the purpose of cultivating the martial path?” Zhang Luoxue’s expression was unreadable.

“I can’t speak for others. I practice martial arts to protect—my family, my friends—so they’ll never again be threatened by others or harmed by disasters. Even if the world falls apart, I’ll break through all obstacles and create a peaceful haven.” Liu Feng’s eyes shone with determination, and an immense aura radiated from his frame.

Zhang Luoxue looked at the majestic aura enveloping Liu Feng, her face filled with wonder. “I didn’t expect your ideals to be so powerful. Perhaps I need to get to know you all over again.”

Liu Feng smiled faintly, sighing. “I wonder if my unrealistic dream will ever come true.”

Suddenly, both fell silent, and the atmosphere turned tranquil.

Above, the moon moved slowly across the sky, marking the silent passage of time.

Without warning, Zhang Luoxue stirred, her eyes turning toward the depths of the forest, a look of delight flashing across her face.

Liu Feng followed her gaze and saw, about five hundred meters away, a dense green mist rising, swirling. Within the mist, a black and a white light flickered alternately.

“The Yin-Yang Spirit Fruit is about to appear!” someone suddenly shouted.

Immediately, Zeng Lu, Zhao Yang, Zhao Guang, and the others all leapt to their feet, their eyes sharp and intense.

Zhang Ming’s group, Huang Lingshan’s faction, and Su Fei’s companions all stood up as well, their gazes locked on the roiling mist, eyes blazing with anticipation.

As time passed, the mist began to thin, and the gathered crowd saw the source of the black and white light.

It was a small tree, just over a meter tall, its trunk as thick as a man’s arm, emitting a deep, inky glow. Six or seven thumb-thick branches stretched from its trunk, each bearing leaves the length of a finger, resembling miniature swords, shining with dazzling white light and exuding a sharp, intimidating aura.

“By the looks of it, the Yin-Yang Spirit Fruit will be ripe in about two hours,” Zhang Luoxue observed, her eyes glinting as she spoke to Liu Feng.

Liu Feng now saw that on the branches, small fruits the size of peanuts were beginning to form. They were peculiar—each half white and half black—strange, yet perfectly harmonious.

Staring at the fruit on the branches, greed showed in everyone’s eyes. Fists clenched, their bodies trembled with excitement.

Time continued to pass in silence. After an hour, the peanut-sized fruit grew to the size of walnuts, releasing a refreshing fragrance.

Liu Feng inhaled lightly and felt a jolt in his spirit, as if his spiritual power had increased. At the same time, it seemed that every pore in his body opened, greedily absorbing the aroma.

He looked at the others and saw that they too were flaring their nostrils, breathing in the fragrance with avaricious delight.

By now, the fruit on the tree had stopped growing, but the radiance it emitted grew ever stronger. Even the black and white light from the tree itself converged upon the fruit.

Another hour passed. Suddenly, the little tree shuddered, and the light around the fruit began to fade, eventually disappearing altogether.

“It’s mine!” Zhang Ming suddenly sprang forward, reaching for the fruit on the tree.