At forty-five, he took in a young follower.

After tidying up their belongings, the two of them ventured into the valley with their spoils. Along the way, they began to encounter some fierce ghosts, most of whom had power equivalent to the early stages of Qi Refinement—essentially easy prey. Whenever they came upon a lone ghost, Qin Yue would wield Chiyuan like a divine fire descending from the heavens, dealing with them at once. Like the legendary infernal red lotus, she incinerated every vicious ghost and wandering soul in her path.

Deeper into the valley, the ghosts began to cluster in groups of three or five. At this point, the two would set up the "Nine Yin Soul-Refining Array" and have Qin Yue lure the ghosts through the formation. Luo Yu would seize the right moment to activate the array, refining them alive. With cold-blooded efficiency, they continued their slaughter; the fire seed at the heart of the array grew to the size of a walnut. These creatures had little intellect; the ghosts only knew how to consume, and the yin beasts were not much smarter. Using the array, they could capture them with ease. Luo Yu felt a joy in his heart, gradually understanding why vampires loved the sound of wailing ghosts.

After a whole day of hunting, Luo Yu checked his phone—almost nine in the evening—and called an end to their work, finding a cave to rest in. He quickly refined the yin herbs they had gathered along the way and told Qin Yue to catch a minor ghost for experimentation.

Upon completing his experiments, Luo Yu discovered that several kinds of essences were beneficial to yin spirits: some could stabilize the soul and strengthen defenses, some contained toxins the ghosts could absorb and use, and one type could even clear their minds, though the effect was slight. There were also many harmful yin herbs. Luo Yu carefully recorded the properties of each herb in a blank jade slip: they might be useful to cultivators as well. So long as it wasn’t a common yin herb, he decided to collect them all in the future and let the vampires study them.

He used his spiritual sense to place a restriction on this minor ghost, whose power was about the third layer of Qi Refinement. This kind of restriction was placed directly on the ghost’s soul and consciousness—a technique known as "Soul Control Art." Like the "Wind Riding Technique" or "Concealment Art," it was a foundational skill for cultivators. Generally, only Foundation Establishment cultivators could use such control arts, as those in Qi Refinement lacked the spiritual strength and risked backlash. But for Luo Yu, this was a trivial matter.

Patting the little ghost’s head with affection, Luo Yu said, “Let’s give it a name! It’s so odd-looking, it’s almost cute.”

Qin Yue replied woodenly, “Didn’t you say you’d never fall for a ghost?”

Luo Yu retorted, “I said I’d never fall for a zombie! Sure, this little ghost looks a bit ugly, but it feels great to the touch, like a water balloon—springy and clean, with no rotting flesh! Try it yourself!”

Qin Yue reached out and touched it, face expressionless. “Not as good as you—too cold.”

Luo Yu shot back, “You feel a thousand times better than any girl!”

Then he ignored him, turning to the little ghost with benevolent gravity. “From now on, you’ll be called Rabbit. You’re for testing medicine, understand? Be obedient, accept your fate, and don’t even think about rebelling.”

The little ghost bared its sharp teeth, blinking blankly.

Qin Yue sneered, “Only an idiot would try to communicate with another idiot.”

Luo Yu pounced, leading to a brief scuffle and being pinned in return.

That night, Luo Yu nestled in Qin Yue’s arms for warmth, squeezing closer as he spoke. “We won’t run into a ghost with Golden Core strength, will we? What if we do?”

Qin Yue replied, “Just be cautious. Fierce ghosts don’t have clear power levels. If a fight feels too tough, we detour.”

The next day, they continued hunting. The little ghost trailed behind, squealing at the sight of the soul-refining fire, both fearful and drawn to it.

Luo Yu remarked, “Hey, it knows the good stuff!”

Qin Yue answered, “They just absorb yin energy until they lose their minds, but they’re not complete idiots.”

Luo Yu mused, “So if I feed it more of the yin herbs that clear the mind, will it become normal?”

Qin Yue said, “Medicine can cure illness, so yes. But cultivators either destroy ghosts or use them as tools. If they regain intelligence, there are two outcomes: they either become cultivators themselves and vie for resources, or they seek to escape or take revenge. No one but you would have such whimsical ideas.”

By evening, they finally reached the inner edge of Nine Yin Mountain. Standing atop a peak, they surveyed their surroundings: the sky was a ghastly green, and high above, a massive vortex of yin fog spun slowly, exuding a powerful sense of oppression. Directly beneath this giant vortex was the very heart of the Nine Yin Mountain region.

Without hesitation, they pressed on. At the center of the mountain domain, the peaks were relatively even—no deep valleys, nothing out of the ordinary compared to the outskirts. Luo Yu found this odd; by rights, the yin energy here should be several times denser than outside, and the ghosts and beasts stronger. But everything here was just as easy to handle.

This puzzle was soon set aside—after all, no one wanted to be blocked by a powerful monster. They still had to search for the Spiritualizing Marrow.

Yet after circling the center several times, having cleared out nearly half the monsters and searched every corner, they still found no trace of the marrow.

Luo Yu eyed the fire seed, now the size of a head, and complained, “So it really isn’t here? Was it all taken last time?”

Qin Yue looked up at the sky, frowning. “Don’t you think it’s strange?”

Luo Yu nodded. “It is strange—why are there no big monsters here? Why is the yin energy so thin?”

Qin Yue said, “The elevation’s too high; the yin energy is blown away.”

Luo Yu noted, “This looks like a mesa. There are plenty of these in the living world, but I didn’t expect to find one in the Underworld. I wonder why the yin fog swirls here? Without valleys, there shouldn’t be a vortex…”

Suddenly, both their eyes lit up as they spoke in unison, “An illusion formation!”

Luo Yu was instantly excited, cursing, “Damn! The eagle-catcher was blinded by a chicken! How disgraceful!”

He dumped a pile of formation-breaking tools on the ground, picked up a jade disk, channeled his power into it, and began scanning the area. The ground immediately revealed flowing formation patterns—they were standing atop a massive barrier, and beneath them was indeed a valley.

Whoever set this formation was powerful and highly skilled; after all this time in the mountains, they hadn’t sensed a ripple of spiritual or magical energy. Still, that didn’t necessarily mean the creator was stronger than ancient divine beings—those ancient arrays were different, purposely leaving traces to be seen.

Luo Yu got straight to work breaking the formation. The technique was quite similar to the protective array at Bamboo Courtyard, likely of the same origin. Luo Yu reported with excitement, “This must have been set up by an ancestor of the Bamboo Courtyard. Your martial uncle was right!”

This array was overlaid with an illusion, blending perfectly with the terrain, deceiving both humans and ghosts. Judging by its size, the creator’s cultivation must have surpassed Nascent Soul, else such a vast, intricate expenditure of power would be impossible. Moreover, the array was powered by yin energy, not spiritual energy, allowing it to endure in such a dense environment.

Once Luo Yu began working, he found it quite taxing—this was even more formidable than the mountain-protecting array, and he couldn’t help but complain: what was this person thinking? With such skill, why not leave a few powerful arrays for Bamboo Courtyard?

He didn’t know that the Bamboo Courtyard had a tradition: the mountain-protecting formation must always be set by the current leader, a rule meant to keep their array arts from declining.

Noting how many days had passed, Luo Yu realized Chuan San must be growing anxious waiting outside. He had Qin Yue send a message talisman to Chuan San, telling him to go ahead and not miss business opportunities.

Qin Yue nodded, took out a talisman slip, folded it into a paper crane, whispered a few words to it, and sent it floating off into the sky.

In the days that followed, Qin Yue continued hunting minor ghosts while Luo Yu worked on breaking the formation. At last, one day, they dug a hole at the edge of the mountaintop and crawled inside.

As soon as they entered the barrier, they felt a clammy sensation: the yin energy was so dense it formed mist in the air and dew on the ground, almost terrifying in its intensity.

They crept forward, holding their breath and masking their presence, letting Rabbit scout ahead. The moment Rabbit entered, he was so delighted he wriggled and rolled, licking the dew off the ground. Luo Yu, unsympathetic, gave him a kick. “Go step on some traps!” Rabbit reluctantly complied.

Hand in hand, Luo Yu and Qin Yue advanced. The yin herbs here were more plentiful and of higher quality than outside, so Luo Yu frequently tugged Qin Yue to a halt so he could collect them.

Yet after wandering the valley for half a day, they’d gathered plenty of herbs, but aside from Rabbit, hadn’t seen a single ghost.

Luo Yu grew nervous. “Why are there no monsters? Were they all eaten by some great beast? How powerful must it be? Maybe we should go back?”

Qin Yue pondered for a while, then said hesitantly, “Could it be that the array’s creator cleared them out? If he built such a grand array here, he must have planned to return, or to pass the place on to his disciples. He’d certainly consider their safety.”

Luo Yu felt reassured. That was likely; perhaps the cultivator had set everything up but died mysteriously before he could tell anyone the details. According to Qin Yue, many powerful figures had gone into seclusion back then, vanishing for years, and when their disciples finally checked, they’d been dead for ages.

Thinking it through, Luo Yu regained his courage and ordered Rabbit to run around the valley, making as much noise as possible to see if anything would bite him.

Rabbit dutifully romped through the valley for a whole day and night before reporting back—clearly delighted at having such a vast, dreamlike territory all to himself.

Now at ease, Luo Yu and Qin Yue stopped concealing themselves and began openly harvesting the yin herbs.

On their first day in the valley, they discovered a small vein of netherstone. The vein crossed a stream, and Luo Yu, curious about the glittering stones in the water, picked some up and realized what they were. Of course, it was their guess—netherstone looked much like spirit stone, but was formed from pure yin energy, appearing transparent gray rather than green. Deciding it was netherstone, they gathered a large bag to take with them.

At last, the two reached the core area, which was no more than a kilometer across. Stepping inside, they were stunned: there was spiritual energy here! So dense it condensed into water and dew, a hundred times richer than anywhere they’d seen in the cultivation world. And on top of that, waves of heat rolled out from within.

Luo Yu felt invigorated, every pore opening wide, and couldn’t help exclaiming, “What’s going on? Did we land in another illusion?”

Qin Yue, equally astonished, stood speechless for a long while before murmuring, “Could it be that all the spiritual energy in the air has been forced into this spot?”

Luo Yu found it both incredible and plausible. “Is there spiritual energy in the air of the Underworld?”

Qin Yue replied, “The Netherworld is vast—when it was formed, there must have been some spiritual energy. Perhaps as more ghosts gathered and the yin energy intensified, over time, all the spiritual energy was forced into this area, creating this anomaly. That would also explain the persistent heavy clouds above the mountain top—they’re likely repelled by the spiritual energy.”

Luo Yu pondered, “Hot and cold air do cause convection—maybe this is a kind of convection too?”

Qin Yue nodded.

With a fierce grin, Luo Yu declared, “Let’s seize this territory for ourselves!”

Qin Yue agreed, “Good!”

Luo Yu ground his teeth in determination, “When we get back, I’ll devise an array and claim this place and the one we found last time!”

Excited, they strode forward and soon discovered a spring of spiritual water—crystal clear, wreathed in dense mist. Luo Yu rushed over to take a gulp, nearly fainting with happiness. If they grew spirit herbs here and brought in the living soil, what would that be like? It would be extravagance beyond compare!

Reluctantly leaving the spring, they ventured further in, feeling the heat intensify with every step.

Luo Yu mused, “Maybe there’s a fissure here, exposing magma? If there’s a volcanic vent on our land, that might take up too much space. But then, what’s gold compared to this place?”

They quickened their pace and finally reached the very center. Before them lay a square stone platform, around seven square meters in size, densely inscribed with formation patterns. At its center was a hole about a meter across, beneath which churned red magma. Yet the magma was not the main source of heat. Above the opening hovered a fist-sized, golden flame, bound by layers of array patterns on the stone platform, yet still radiating waves of scorching heat.

Comrade Cultivators Chronicle, Chapter 45—Little Brother Acquired: The End of the Update!