Volume Two, Chapter Forty-Five: A Shooting Star Chasing the Moon

Day after day went by, and in the blink of an eye, a month had passed.

That morning, before the sky had even lightened, Meng Fang was roused from sleep by a sudden crackling sound. But he had grown used to such disturbances in recent days.

Stretching his limbs, Meng Fang left the cave. Outside, Yu Mu was wielding his wooden staff with fierce intensity, sweeping up gusts of wind and whirls of dust—signs that his technique was now infused with spiritual energy.

“Well done! Ha ha, congratulations, brother, you’ve finally mastered the Kunlun Staff Technique,” Meng Fang called out.

Yu Mu was startled by this sudden applause, but when he saw it was Meng Fang, he grinned and lowered his staff. “Sorry, big brother! I woke you again.”

“No matter, no matter! Our tomb expedition is only days away. Now that you’ve mastered this staff technique, our journey has another layer of safety.”

A mysterious smile crept onto Yu Mu’s face. “Not only that, I have another surprise for you.”

Meng Fang was intrigued. “And what might that be?”

“Watch this, big brother.” With that, Yu Mu spat a peach pit from his mouth, then struck at it with his staff. The pit vanished with a flash. Meng Fang quickly looked up and saw a new small hole in a large rock atop the mountain.

Yu Mu did not pause but continued practicing the Kunlun Staff Technique. Meng Fang, puzzled, watched more closely—and was soon astonished.

Yu Mu was using the staff’s movements to strike the peach pit. As the staff danced, the pit was repeatedly launched, striking the stone again and again. Yet the pit always spun and circled with the verdant staff, as if it never left its orbit.

“Is this a spell? It seems like it, but not quite!” Meng Fang, watching Yu Mu gradually finish his sequence, asked with some doubt, “Your skill has the power of a true art, but it’s missing that natural, seamless quality. Why is that?”

“You have a keen eye, big brother. My skill doesn’t count as a true spell—at best, it’s a pseudo-spell.”

“Pseudo-spell?” Meng Fang had never heard the term.

“That’s right. I’m borrowing the spiritual power of the Primordial Staff Technique, combining it with staff strikes, and using my inner core as a catalyst to produce the effect of a spell attack.”

Meng Fang immediately grasped the concept. “Brilliant! Only you, with your unique inner core, could devise such a technique.”

It was the first time Yu Mu had been called clever; he blushed with embarrassment. “Don’t tease me, big brother. Only someone as foolish as I am would come up with such a clumsy method. Smart men would have already found enlightenment—why bother with pseudo-spells?”

“Ah, brother, you’re mistaken. Enlightenment isn’t about being clever or not. It depends on opportunity and insight; spiritual nature is only part of it. There are countless beings in the world, each following their own path. You simply haven’t encountered your moment of sudden understanding.”

Meng Fang patted Yu Mu on the shoulder. “Though your method may not be high-level, you’ve created a technique suited to your own strengths. That is an achievement in itself—don’t belittle yourself.”

“Thank you, big brother. I understand now.” Yu Mu’s confidence was reignited.

Meng Fang suddenly lowered his voice. “But you must use this skill with caution. After all, you’re using your inner core as a magical weapon. If someone were to seize it, your fate would be in their hands. And your core mustn’t be separated from your body for too long, or you’ll lose your source of spiritual energy and wither away. Be most careful!”

“I understand. I’ll use it only when I’m sure it’s safe, and never in front of someone much stronger than I am.”

“Good. Now, shall we test it in combat?” With that, Meng Fang took out his gravity orb. “Ready? Let’s see if your new skill is as good as I imagine.”

Yu Mu replied with confidence, “Big brother, bring it on!”

No sooner had Yu Mu finished speaking than the stone orb vanished from Meng Fang’s hand. At the same moment, Yu Mu unleashed a skyward strike.

Boom!

The stone orb and peach pit struck the mountaintop boulder at the same time.

Meng Fang laughed heartily. “Brother, you didn’t hit it.”

“Again!” Yu Mu shouted, unwilling to concede.

“Alright!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Stone dust exploded from the mountaintop as Yu Mu’s Primordial Staff Technique moved like the wind. The stone orb shot about like a meteor, the peach pit trailing close behind in a dazzling display.

Meng Fang, caught up in the fun, shouted, “Brother Gada, if you can hit my stone orb before we leave the valley, I’ll owe you a bag of spirit crystals! Dare to bet?”

Yu Mu, equally exhilarated, replied, “Fine, I’ll bet. If I can’t hit your stone orb before we leave, I’ll owe you a peach!”

“Agreed!”

With their wager settled, the two threw themselves into the contest with even greater enthusiasm.

As Meng Fang manipulated the orb, he asked, “Brother, have you named this skill?”

“Not yet.”

Meng Fang withdrew the orb. “Let’s stop for now and come up with a name first.”

“Alright.” Yu Mu put away his staff as well.

The two sat down cross-legged. Meng Fang said, “Brother, do you have any ideas for a name?”

Yu Mu gave a wry smile. “Big brother, you’re making things hard for me. I’m no good at naming things. Why don’t you do it?”

Meng Fang didn’t mind. “How about ‘Staff Soaring Strike’? No, that doesn’t sound right. ‘Orb Shadow Splitting the Sky’? Also not quite it. ‘Staff Splitting the Heavens’? ‘Meteoric Sky Shadow’? What should it be called?”

He muttered names one after another, shaking his head each time, unable to decide.

Yu Mu found his seriousness amusing. The two of them were rough men—expecting them to come up with a poetic name was indeed a stretch. He couldn’t help but miss that scoundrel, Old Qiao the Sixth; if he were here, he’d surely come up with some thunderous name.

Funnily enough, Meng Fang was thinking of that shameless old fellow at the same time. Back then, the two of them had mocked Old Qiao for fussing over names. Now that it was their turn, they understood that naming was indeed an art.

After much deliberation, Meng Fang finally found inspiration. “Brother, watching your inner core chase after my stone orb just now, a fitting name came to me.”

“Oh? What is it, big brother?” Yu Mu was curious.

“How about ‘Meteor Chasing the Moon’?”

“Big brother, that’s perfect. It fits exactly! From now on, this skill shall be called ‘Meteor Chasing the Moon.’ Ha ha!”

Unnoticed, the day of the Great Sage of the Heavens’ birthday arrived. Among the beast cultivators, such celebrations were not elaborate—the main purpose was feasting and merrymaking.

Early in the morning, all the disciples in the valley emerged to join in the most important ritual of the beast cultivators. The ceremony was grand; every resident of Eagle Ridge took part.

Birds of the sky, beasts of the land, creatures of water and those from under the earth—all gathered until the square was packed solid. The crowd surrounded the totem statue, bowing in worship behind the high priest. This solemn ritual lasted the entire morning.

Then began the drinking and revelry—one of the rare occasions at Eagle Ridge where everyone could drink freely. With the Great Sage celebrating only once every ten years, the beast cultivators had long awaited this day. As the feast began, everyone raised their voices, eager to make up for all the years of missed wine in one go.