Chapter 171 Ancient Cultivator Heritage

The cave abode was covered in dust, yet the formation was still functioning.

Eldrin (Person Name) furrowed his brow slightly, roughly deducing the origins of this cave abode.

This cave abode had clearly been unattended for many years, yet the defensive formations still retained a measure of their power. The master who once resided here must have possessed truly remarkable mastery of formation arrays.

"Whoosh—"

Yet at this very moment, a streak of flowing light soared across the distant sky.

Deng Yuanwu soared past aboard his treasured vessel, his eyes radiating spiritual light. In the blink of an eye, he saw through the mountain's illusionary formation and discovered this third-order spirit mountain.

"It's an ancient cultivator's cave abode."

The Deng brothers' expressions shifted abruptly, and they hastily urged their treasure ark to soar into the spirit mountain.

Deng Yuanjie (Person Name) glanced at the spirit mountain and exclaimed excitedly, "This abandoned abode has maintained 70 percent of its formation's potency after all these years. It must have quite the remarkable origin."

Deng Yuanwu also nodded, yet his gaze remained fixed upon Eldrin (Person Name).

"Let's kill him first, then seize this cave abode." No sooner had he spoken than he unleashed his third-order magic blade, slashing through the air.

"Do not act rashly."

Deng Yuanjie's expression shifted slightly, but it was already too late to intervene.

Before Eldrin could even make a move, this single blade strike unexpectedly triggered a response from the spiritual mountain's protective formation.

The formation on the Spirit Mountain activated, unleashing a powerful suction force that seized the group and abruptly drew them all into the cavern abode.

"It's a trapping array."

No sooner had he landed than Eldrin's eyes narrowed slightly.

He carefully surveyed his surroundings and found that Lila was still by his side, while the 2 members of the Deng family had vanished without a trace.

Surrounded by dense mist, he found himself trapped within the cave abode. A third-rank, superior-grade formation had ensnared him, making escape unlikely for the time being.

"It appears the master of this cave abode harbors no ill intent."

Suppressing his thoughts, he cautiously shielded Lila behind him, only then noticing a Lustrous Crystal Gem ahead.

Shadowstone.

Eldrin's gaze sharpened slightly as he recognized the object's origin—the Memory Stone was a treasure specifically designed to record images and sounds.

If this object were of the first rank, its price would generally be quite affordable. However, the Shadowstone before us had reached the third rank, making it exceptionally precious.

A third-grade Memory Stone can preserve information for over a 1000 years, making it exceptionally suitable for engraving inherited cultivation techniques. Its value typically reaches tens of thousands of spirit stones.

"It appears to be a message left by the master of this place."

Eldrin murmured, sweeping his sleeve as a surge of true essence activated this Shadowstone.

The Shadowstone glowed, projecting a shimmering, ethereal figure.

There sat a withered old man, his expression serene as he spoke calmly within the cavern abode.

"I am Mo Hongwu, having cultivated for over 5 100 years. Now, sensing my lifespan nearing its end, I leave behind this memory stone. I wonder which fellow Daoist is fated to behold it."

As the light of the Memory Stone flowed and shifted, Eldrin soon understood the origins of this venerable elder.

This Mo Hongwu was none other than the famed Daoist Mo from a 1000 years ago. In his lifetime, he had been a wandering cultivator. In his youth, a stroke of serendipity had granted him access to precious legacies of alchemy and formation arts. Coupled with his own extraordinary talent, he had forged a reputation of immense renown.

In his prime, Mo Hongwu was among the top Purple Mansion cultivators of the Cerulean Peaks Range. Having consumed 3 Life-Extending Pills and successively attempted Core Formation thrice, his cultivation had even reached the False Core realm.

Alas, he ultimately fell half a step short, leaving behind a lifetime of regret.

Moreover, after failing to form his Golden Core 3 times in a row, Elder Mo had nearly exhausted the wealth he had accumulated over 5 100 years. Even his close friends and relatives, who had helped him safeguard his core-formation treasures, were all implicated and met with calamity.

After his final failed attempt to form the Golden Core, he realized he stood utterly alone, his vital energy completely depleted, leaving him with nearly nothing to his name.

At the moment of his death, Mo Hongwu departed with eternal regret, barely managing to leave behind this Memory Stone in his final breath.

According to the message left in the Memory Stone, he wished to pass down his inherited alchemy formulas and formation techniques, ensuring these 2 ancient texts would be preserved through generations.

The place where Eldrin was teleported to was none other than the Inheritance Grounds. So long as he could comprehend the control secrets of the Mo Wang Peak’s formation within a single day and prove his extraordinary aptitude, he would be able to inherit these 2 legacies.

The control secret of the Great Geng Sword Formation.

Eldrin’s brow twitched slightly as he finally understood—the formation had separated him from Deng Yuanwu precisely to prevent them from interfering with each other.

Whoever first comprehends the mastery technique shall obtain Elder Mo's legacy.

However, if they failed to comprehend it within a single day, the mountain-protecting formation would be activated to eliminate them within the cavern, preventing any attempt to forcibly breach the defenses.

"It still poses some difficulty."

Eldrin murmured calmly, "Gaining insight into the control techniques of a third-grade, superior-tier formation isn't particularly difficult. After all, these are merely manipulation methods—any Foundation Establishment cultivator can master them with dedicated contemplation."

What a pity that Daoist Mo had given them far too little time—a single day was simply insufficient. I'm afraid the vast majority of Foundation Establishment cultivators wouldn't be able to accomplish it.

Yet he was supremely confident. At merely 3 years old, he could discern his own meridians after a single observation and comprehend cultivation techniques overnight, embarking on his path of cultivation. Such aptitude was nothing short of astonishing.

"Come, give it a try."

Eldrin unsealed the secret technique jade slip and cast a glance upon it, then sank into profound contemplation.

After about the time it takes half an incense stick to burn, he opened his eyes and began attempting to activate the secret art to control the grand formation.

The formation instantly lit up with a radiant glow, falling under his complete control in the blink of an eye.

"The difficulty is not particularly high."

Eldrin murmured softly. After gaining control of the formation, he realized he could now sense the state of the cavern abode through the array.

Deng Yuanwu and Deng Yuanjie were still at the other end of the grotto-abode, wholly engrossed in deciphering the control arcane method.

"Perfect, that saves us the trouble of a fight."

Eldrin (Person Name) sneered coldly and activated the mountain-protecting formation—the Great Geng Sword Array.

Sword rays swept across the sky like tidal waves, crashing down upon the crowd.

No.

"How could it be this fast?"

Deng Yuanjie’s face paled in horror. He could hardly believe the formation had been activated so swiftly.

The 2 continuously channeled their magic power to defend, striving to withstand the onslaught of the Great Geng Sword Formation. Yet, faced with the vast spiritual energy emanating from a third-grade, superior-grade spirit vein, how long could they possibly hold out?

Seeing that the defensive magical treasure was about to fail, Deng Yuanwu finally revealed a look of shock and said through gritted teeth.

"Sir, it seems I have met my match today."

"As long as you spare my life, I will give you anything you desire."

"Is that so?"

Eldrin (Person Name) let out a cold laugh, holding back not a shred of mercy.

Before a third-grade, superior-grade Mountain Protection Array, no matter how abundant their wealth was, it proved utterly useless.

As countless sword rays descended, the 2 were pinned and slain within the cavern abode after holding out for merely a few dozen breaths.

After completing all this, Eldrin let out a sigh of relief. He collected the 2 storage pouches and rummaged through them for a moment.

To prevent the other party from leaving tracking methods in the storage pouch, he only retrieved a few precious items: spirit stones, magic treasures, elixirs, and jade slips.

Chapter 1 The biting mountain wind whipped through the valley, carrying with it the scent of pine and decay. Lin Feng tightened his worn deerskin jacket, his breath misting in the chill air. 1 100 years had passed since he had crossed into this world, yet the memory remained vivid—the blinding light, the sensation of falling, then waking up in this body, in this remote corner of the cultivation world. He was no longer the top software architect from a technologically advanced Earth. Here, he was merely an outer disciple of the Verdant Cloud Sect, assigned to the most tedious of duties: tending the Herb Garden of Whispering Pines. A position utterly devoid of prospects. Sighing, he pushed open the creaking wooden door of his simple hut. The single room was spartan, containing only a wooden bed, a small table, and a meditation cushion. His entire worldly wealth consisted of a dozen or so glistening Spirit Stones and 3 basic Qi Gathering Pills, all carefully stored in a small jade vial. It was a pittance, barely enough for a month of cultivation. "Sector 7, Row 3... the Frost-Dew Grass needs watering," he muttered to himself, consulting a bamboo slip. This was his life now. A menial task for a menial disciple. His cultivation had stagnated at the 3rd level of Qi Refining for nearly 2 years. At this rate, he would be expelled from the sect upon turning 20, destined to become a mortal, his lifespan cut brutally short. As he reached the designated plot, he knelt, his fingers brushing the soil near the roots of the silvery-blue herb. Suddenly, a searing heat erupted from his chest. He gasped, stumbling back. The simple jade pendant left by his parents in this world—a mottled, unremarkable piece he had always worn—was glowing with a faint, ethereal light. A stream of information, vast and incomprehensible, flooded his mind. It was not words or images, but pure concepts—structures, patterns, flows of energy. It felt alien yet eerily familiar, like recognizing a fundamental law of the universe he had never been taught. Just then, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the quiet. "Well, if it isn't Lin Feng, the eternal Qi Refining level 3. Still playing in the dirt, I see?" Lin Feng looked up. It was Zhao Gang, a burly disciple who had entered the sect at the same time but had already reached the 5th level of Qi Refining. He stood with his arms crossed, a sneer plastered on his face. Beside him stood 2 sycophants, snickering. "Zhao Gang," Lin Feng said evenly, getting to his feet. The strange sensation from the pendant had subsided, leaving only a lingering warmth and a buzzing clarity in his thoughts. "Don't 'Zhao Gang' me," the bully spat. "You haven't paid your 'sect contribution' this month. 10 Spirit Stones. Now." This was pure extortion. Outer disciples received only 30 Spirit Stones a month. 10 was a third of his already meager resources. "I don't have them," Lin Feng said, his voice calm. A strange confidence was bubbling within him. The information from the pendant was settling, coalescing. He understood something now. He saw the flow of spiritual energy around Zhao Gang—clumsy, inefficient, full of leaks and blockages. It was... flawed code. Zhao Gang's face darkened. "What did you say? You dare refuse me?" He took a threatening step forward, his spiritual pressure washing over Lin Feng. To the other disciples, it felt oppressive. But to Lin Feng's newly attuned senses, it was just noise. Inefficient, poorly structured noise. "I said," Lin Feng repeated, meeting Zhao Gang's gaze directly, "I don't have any Spirit Stones for you." "you're seeking death!" Zhao Gang roared, enraged by the defiance. He lunged, his fist enveloped in a rudimentary glow of earth-attributed spiritual energy—the Mountain-Splitting Fist. It was a crude technique, but with his higher cultivation base, it should have been enough to break a few of Lin Feng's ribs. Time seemed to slow for Lin Feng. He didn't see a fist. He saw a data stream. A flawed algorithm executing a brute-force attack. His body moved almost on its own, not with the practiced forms of a combat technique, but with a simple, minimal efficiency. He shifted his weight slightly, his left hand coming up not to block, but to tap 2 fingers against the inside of Zhao Gang's wrist. It was a seemingly insignificant point, a nexus where several spiritual energy pathways converged. A critical juncture. A... system vulnerability. *Zap!* A sharp crackle of energy sounded. The glow around Zhao Gang's fist flickered and died. A wave of reversed spiritual energy shot back up his arm. He cried out in shock and pain, stumbling backward and clutching his numb wrist, his face a mask of confusion and agony. "What... what did you do?!" 1 of the sycophants stammered, his eyes wide. Lin Feng stood still, his expression unreadable. Inside, his heart was pounding like a war drum. The jade pendant... it hadn't given him power. It had given him *understanding*. It had allowed him to see the very foundation of cultivation—the movement and structure of spiritual energy—as a system. And any system, no matter how powerful, could be analyzed, debugged, and yes, even hacked. He looked at the stunned Zhao Gang, who was still gaping at his own useless hand. "It seems your technique has a bug," Lin Feng said, his voice quiet but carrying an unfamiliar edge. "You should get that fixed." Without another word, he turned and walked back towards his hut, leaving the 3 bullies in bewildered silence. The wind howled, but Lin Feng no longer felt the cold. For the first time in a 100 years, he felt a spark of something he had almost forgotten: hope, and the thrilling promise of infinite possibility.