Paper cannot wrap fire.

More than twenty days had passed since the two last left the grand formation. Now, as they stepped inside once more, the interior had completely transformed.

In the Yang Fish sector, the spiritual energy had doubled since their departure. Even more astonishing, a phenomenon of “spiritual mist” had appeared. This was a delightful surprise.

Gliding forward on clouds, they took in the scenery: between cascading waterfalls and strange peaks, pavilions and towers of ancient design and exquisite craftsmanship emerged and vanished in the spiritual mist. On the jade-blue lake, dozens of elegant, rounded white jade spirit towers dotted the water’s surface, their reflections captivating. These towers had lamp holes fitted with luminous pearls—at night, the sight would surely outshine the moon over West Lake. Along the lakeshore, secondary palaces with water-facing windows and jade terraces stretched over the waves, their white jade structures forming a floating palace. Silk curtains, as fine as spiderwebs, danced in the wind, poetic and ethereal.

Beyond these scenes of refined elegance, there stood a massive, imposing main palace complex at the very heart of the formation’s yang focus. It dominated the landscape with tiered stories and solemn halls. Passing beneath the awe-inspiring mountain gate, they beheld a vast expanse of obsidian steps. The central vermilion stairway was carved with lifelike dragons, phoenixes, qilins, golden crows, and other divine beasts, soaring amidst clouds and treading the waves—a clear statement of imperial ambition.

The steps extended halfway up the mountain to a black-gold terrace, intersected by six jade-belt rivers spanned by twelve arched jade bridges. At the end stood the main hall: high terraces with winding balustrades, deep corridors, broad walkways, and columns of jade reaching the sky—a spectacle of exaggerated grandeur. Within, flanking halls were paved in obsidian, their roofs tiled with scales of dark metal. At the center of the main hall, a magnificent black-gold throne with red flames presided, draped with two curtains of pearls shimmering with a dark luster. Behind, a giant relief depicted mountains, rivers, sun and moon, the universe and stars—clearly, the designer’s vision was boundless.

The two were both impressed and a little overwhelmed. The palace complex’s layout was vast; some carvings and arrangements bore a distinctly Western fantasy style. The main hall, for instance, had fewer roof beams, and the pearl curtain resembled a hanging banner, reminiscent of “Diablo III.” Luo Yu strongly suspected those European designers had contributed, and perhaps a fan of Diablo was among them.

No one yet resided in the palace, though many exotic beasts roamed about. The throne, still unclaimed, had already been defiled by a perfectly shaped pile of dung. Luo Yu, furious, tossed it away and set a ward on the throne: this was his domain—how dare these little creatures defy him!

All in all, the two were very satisfied with the palace. Whether it fit tradition was irrelevant; its majesty was what mattered. Architectural styles, after all, were only products of the human mind.

Leaving the main hall, they made their way to the formation’s heart. The plaza bustled with activity; several designers clustered around a computer, pointing and discussing. Peering over their shoulders, the two saw CG scenes from domestic fantasy games—clearly, the designers were seeking inspiration. They left quietly.

The old master and Gong Jingqian oversaw the construction at the rear of the main palace, while Father and the vampire directed the building of the castle in the Yin Fish sector. The castle’s shaded side leaned toward Gothic, the sunlit side toward Baroque, with red and black as dominant tones. Its lavish interior rivaled St. Peter’s Basilica, built with even more precious materials.

Wandering inside, Luo Yu was in awe of the enormous, luxurious bedroom—it was like a black palace. Above was a Gothic spire; the room itself was a circular duplex. Entering, one found a large bath sunk into the floor at the center, surrounded by circular walls carved with sharp-horned, bat-winged imps pouring water into the pool. Twin staircases in concentric arcs hugged the walls, leading up to the upper level. From above, they resembled the pattern on a peacock’s tail: a large circle enclosing a smaller one. The upper floor was ringed with stained glass windows, at its center a massive bed atop a blood-red carpet.

Luo Yu fretted: if Father and the vampire lived here... the echoes at night might carry far—how terrifying...

After touring the residences, they returned to the central plaza. Now designated as the spirit garden, it was divided between them and the vampire. The vampire’s side was sparsely planted with shade-loving grasses, while theirs was lush, the seven small hills fully planted with original spiritual herbs, all thriving under the ginseng spirits’ care. Summoning the ginseng spirits, they opened dozens more plots, planting their ill-gotten gains accordingly.

After all this, they both breathed a deep sigh of relief. By now dusk had fallen; everyone returned to the plaza, ready for dinner.

The family discussed how these foreigners had worked diligently in the formation for over half a month and deserved a reward. Luo Yu, considering the many flat peaches in his bag, decided to offer a few for everyone to taste—restoring their spirits would help productivity.

The old master was delighted to hear his grandson had brought back flat peaches and asked Luo Yu to fetch one for everyone to see. This drew a crowd of curious foreigners. Such fruit they had never seen before—even more wondrous than the other strange plants growing nearby—and the peaches even glowed.

That night, the Luo family hosted a small “Flat Peach Banquet” on the lakeside jade terrace. Luo Yu, unwilling to part with too many, served only a few slices to each as dessert. He also brought out some low-grade spiritual wine and various spiritual dishes for the family, pairing them with hamburgers and fried chicken for an East-meets-West meal. With a gentle breeze over the lake and the scenic mountains and waters, everyone ate and drank in great cheer.

When it came time to taste the flat peaches, Luo Yu edged up to his father to observe the changes within him. Eating a peach himself, Luo Yu had only felt a surge of spiritual energy settle in his dantian, nothing else. His father, after eating, also accumulated a small, persistent bead of spiritual energy, which did not disperse or increase. Luo Yu mused: perhaps this spiritual energy extended mortal life—could this be the so-called “spiritual root” of cultivators? After all, cultivation was said to grant a century of life, much like the effect of the flat peach. So, while ordinary people couldn’t absorb spiritual energy naturally, they could supplement it through external means. But why did spiritual wine, which also contained spiritual energy, have no such effect on mortals? In those cases, the energy dissipated quickly. Did the peaches contain some other mysterious substance? Was this why they were so beneficial to ordinary people?

As Luo Yu pondered, the vampire beside Chu-dad grew visibly uneasy.

Chu-dad glared, “What are you squirming for?”

The vampire grimaced in pain, “My stomach hurts!”

Luo Yu was surprised. “You can get stomachaches?” This had never happened before; even when pierced through the chest by a sword, he hadn’t cried out in pain.

The vampire said, “I think my stomach can’t handle the flat peach… Oh, I need to get it out!”

Chu-dad, alarmed, said, “What’s going on? He never had trouble with spiritual wine! Xiao Yu, help him!”

Luo Yu nodded, intending to use his power to force the flat peach from the vampire’s body, but found his power couldn’t enter the vampire’s body—an unexpected obstacle.

By now, the vampire was in too much pain to bear and, with a swipe of his claws, cut open his own belly and pulled the thing out.

Blood splattered across the dinner table; the foreigners were aghast.

Luo Li, teary-eyed, flung herself on the nearly-unconscious vampire, crying, “Mommy, don’t die! Mommy, you can’t leave me and Daddy!”

The vampire groaned, “This is worse than damned silver!”

Chu-dad was shaken by his words, and despite the old master’s presence, pulled him into his arms, holding his face in worry. “Does it still hurt? Is it dangerous?”

The vampire, gasping, managed, “Darling… don’t worry, I won’t die…”

Chu-dad immediately ordered, “Xiao Yu, take us to the castle.”

Luo Yu conjured a cloud, carrying his father, the vampire, and the cat toward the yin-rich castle.

The others exchanged glances. Qin Yue waved a hand, using a water spell to clean up the mess.

The old master, as host, felt embarrassed. He thought: these foreigners probably lost their appetite…

But before he finished the thought, he saw the foreigners eating even more enthusiastically.

The old master was baffled: their acceptance was impressive.

What he didn’t realize was their logic: anything harmful to vampires must be good! Such a holy item couldn’t be missed!

As he played host, the old master mulled over recent events. He’d always found Chu and Lampez’s relationship odd. The vampire claimed to be repaying Chu for saving his life, but his attentiveness was excessive. In all his years, the old master had heard many stories of powerful men and their favored actors. Clearly, this fellow had designs on Chu. He even called him “Father” and treated Xiao Yu and the cat as his own children—clearly up to no good. Perhaps before he thought it was one-sided, but today’s events… Chu also seemed to care. Had Chu been pretending all along? Maybe that’s why he never dated… How should he handle this?

Qin Yue, watching the old master’s shifting expressions, sipped her spiritual wine and said calmly, “Grandfather, don’t worry about Lampez. He’s very strong.”

The old master started, then chuckled, “Ha, I’m not worried. Not worried at all.”

Qin Yue continued, “Uncle Luo will take good care of him.”

The old master was startled again, then squinted, leaned in, and whispered, “Xiao Yue, why do you think Uncle Luo… will take such good care of Lampez?”

Qin Yue replied calmly, “I think Uncle Luo likes him a lot.”

The old master was stunned. “Did you see something…? Xiao Yue, be honest—why do you think so?”

Qin Yue answered, “Didn’t you notice, Grandfather?”

The old master was alarmed. “Notice what?”

Qin Yue spoke unhurriedly, “Everyone else in the family thinks it’s no big deal. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

The old master felt thunderstruck: what did “everyone else in the family” mean?

He asked, “Who? Who thinks it’s no big deal?”

Qin Yue replied, “Me, Xiao Yu, the cat, the land spirit… all think it’s normal.”

The old master was floored: was he the last to know? And everyone thought it was normal?

Qin Yue, seeing his silence, added, “In the cultivation world, men being together is even more common than men and women.”

The old master was silent for a long time, then eyed Qin Yue with suspicion. “Why are you saying this? You and Xiao Yu… are you up to something?”

Qin Yue remained calm. “Xiao Yu and I are as close as brothers, Grandfather. Do you find us suspicious?”

The old master thought it over. Qin Yue and Luo Yu were close but always forthright—never giving cause for rumor. The real issue was Chu and Lampez… sneaking about, trying to hide something. Clearly, there was a problem!

Author’s note: This is a transitional chapter… perhaps a bit dull… T.T

Cultivation Brothers Chapter 58—complete at 58 Paper Can’t Cover Fire!