PID Chapter 37.1

(5/5) Extra Update ~

Chu Jiao died at the hands of his fellow Huanjian Sect members, making it an internal matter. After understanding the situation, the Lin’an Academy disciples couldn’t offer much help, and the commotion gradually subsided. The mighty figures aboard the celestial boats above didn’t spare another glance.

The mood among the Huanjian Sect members was grim. Mu Jian and the Nascent Soul cultivators analyzed the situation, but no one could determine whether Chu Jiao had simply lost his mind after suppressing his frustration for too long or if he had fallen victim to some sort of scheme.

With his death and the destruction of his soul, there was no evidence left—dead men tell no tales.

The only one visibly shaken was Su Baimo. His original intention had been to mediate and foster goodwill among his fellow disciples, but he hadn’t expected Chu Jiao to turn on him and try to kill him without warning. Now, Su Baimo’s face was pale as he sat there looking like a frightened little rabbit. Some fellow disciples were trying to comfort him.

Recent events had repeatedly tested Su Baimo’s courage, leaving him in a constant state of fear and fragility. Despite having powerful people protecting him, he still often found himself in dangerous situations.

Even though he spent most of his time—nearly twelve hours a day—by Dai Zisheng’s side, there were always moments when Dai Zisheng couldn’t reach him in time.

Whether it was the gray-robed demonic cultivator or Chu Jiao, both could have easily killed him.

When Chu Jiao’s sword had been inches from his face, Su Baimo had been utterly powerless. If Mu Jian and Dai Zisheng had acted even a moment later, he likely wouldn’t have survived.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet Chu Jiao had tried to kill him. It was Chu Jiao’s fault—he was the villain—but in the Middle Realm, there were many more unreasonable villains and unknown dangers just like him.

The feeling of having his life completely under someone else’s control was deeply unsettling.

Su Baimo bit his nails anxiously, fear and anxiety gnawing at him: Was I wrong? Is relying on others to survive not a viable path?

If my cultivation level were strong enough to protect myself, I wouldn’t have to live in such constant fear.

And if I had more magical artifacts or spiritual beasts—things that could protect me—the more, the better. If I could have everything I needed, I wouldn’t have to live so cautiously.

But his cultivation talent wasn’t high. Forcing himself to advance beyond Foundation Establishment with pills and other resources would harm his future prospects. As for magical artifacts, Dai Zisheng had given him some as a token of gratitude for saving his life—but it wasn’t nearly enough.

If he wanted more… what should he do?

Continuously using his lifesaving favor as leverage would undoubtedly irritate others within Huanjian Sect. Mu Jian’s attitude toward him was already a clear example of this.

Su Baimo slowly bit at his nails again and again until a sharp pain in his fingertip brought him back to reality.

He realized he had unconsciously bitten through his own finger.

Staring at the blood trickling from his finger, Su Baimo felt both aggrieved and sorrowful. He pulled out a bottle of medicinal powder to treat the wound but suddenly stopped mid-motion.

His chaotic thoughts began to crystallize into a clear line as the blood dripped down. That line stretched forward, pointing him toward a new direction.

Su Baimo’s eyes gradually brightened: I’ve figured it out.

He realized he still had an excellent weapon that he hadn’t used—his unique Dual Cauldron Physique (Yuanyang Luding Physique).

As long as he willingly engaged in dual cultivation with someone, both he and that person would benefit. Why couldn’t he use this ability to improve his cultivation while also gaining additional advantages from his dual cultivation partners?

Letting the blood on his hand drip freely, Su Baimo’s eyes darted with calculation.

He recalled how his parents had once advised him never to engage in dual cultivation lightly—even with someone like Chu Jinglan.

At that time, Su Baimo’s parents had said that Chu Jinglan’s talent was unparalleled across the Upper, Middle, and Lower Realms—he was undoubtedly the best choice as a fiancé. However, he had yet to mature. If he went to the Middle Realm and failed to protect his identity, leading to his untimely death along the way, Su Baimo could still find someone else.

The reason they had advised against dual cultivation was to avoid future marriage prospects being affected—potential partners might disdain or reject him for it.

No one had expected that Chu Jinglan would fall in the Lower Realm before even making it out.

Instead, it was Su Baimo who rose to the Middle Realm.

When Su Baimo first arrived in the Middle Realm with Dai Zisheng and witnessed the grandeur of Huanjian Sect, he thought Dai Zisheng might be an excellent candidate for his next fiancé.

But then he came to Lin’an Academy and saw the celestial boats of the Twenty-Four Provinces’ elite sects, as well as the true majesty of the Cloud Peak Six Sects and Immortal Alliance.

When the two largest forces spoke, everyone else became mere background noise.

It was then that Su Baimo realized: There are always greater people beyond, and higher skies above. Huanjian Sect was but a drop in the ocean. If the Middle Realm was already this vast, then the Upper Realm must hold an even broader world.

Once upon a time, Chu Jinglan had been destined to dominate all three realms. To be his Dao companion was akin to standing beside greatness itself—a future so bright it eclipsed all others. Once you’ve seen the vast ocean, no other water compares; once you’ve climbed Mount Wu, no other clouds suffice.

Now, however, none of those he encountered possessed such brilliance or a future as radiant as Chu Jinglan’s once promised. How could they occupy the position of his Dao companion?

Why be fixated on the title of “Dao companion”? Why must those who engage in dual cultivation necessarily be Dao companions?

And why can’t there be many people to dual cultivate with?

Su Baimo’s eyes gradually brightened.

He was weak, so he still needed to rely on others. But unlike before, he couldn’t just passively wait for someone to save him—he had to take from others. He would extract power and treasures from them, turning them into his own.

For now, people like Dai Zisheng were useful to him, so he would take what he could from them. He would climb step by step, drawing value from one person after another, until no one could kill or bully him anymore. He wouldn’t remain a prey—he would wield life and death and hold authority in his hands.

The celestial boats in the sky were so grand… He really wanted to board one and see it for himself.

Su Baimo took out a cloth and wiped the blood clean from his finger.

The anxiety on his face disappeared, replaced by a sense of clarity and joy after his epiphany. Su Baimo thought lightly, with a hint of shyness: So who should I start dual cultivating with? Dai Zisheng seems like the obvious choice.

But Mu Jian seemed like a good option too. He was a gentleman at heart, and his cultivation level was currently higher than Dai Zisheng’s. Dual cultivation with him would likely benefit Su Baimo’s own cultivation even more.

Between these two, Su Baimo felt that whoever he chose to dual cultivate with would undoubtedly become devoted to him.

However, Mu Jian didn’t seem to like him. If only there were a way…

In a place where no one could see, something around Su Baimo seemed to shift imperceptibly in response to his thoughts.

If the system were here to assess it, it would provide an answer: Luck.

—

Above Lin’an Academy, the celestial boats shrouded in clouds began retreating slowly. With the massive objects no longer blocking the sky, those with lower cultivation levels below let out sighs of relief.

Some people quickly opened their storage pouches and hid their contents immediately, not wanting anyone to see what they had obtained. Others opened theirs more slowly, cherishing each item carefully.

Xiao Mo’s group worked at a steady pace—not too fast or slow—but they had so many pouches that they kept opening batch after batch.

With Chu Jiao dead, Xiao Mo was in an excellent mood. If they managed to find something good inside the pouches, it would be an added bonus.

Among their findings were several storage devices. Chu Jinglan gave one to Mo Zhi, which made Yan Chun and Chu Xia quite envious—but not resentful.

Storage devices could only be used by those with spiritual energy. Since neither Yan Chun nor Chu Xia had started cultivating yet, they couldn’t use them anyway.

But soon enough, Xiao Mo handed each of them their own storage device as well.

The two stared dumbfounded at the items in their palms before looking up at Xiao Mo.

Xiao Mo said: “It’s fine—you two will definitely start cultivating someday. I’m giving these to you in advance—keep them safe.”

Yan Chun clutched his storage device tightly, overwhelmed with gratitude but trying not to cry since he was a boy. His eyes reddened slightly as he held back tears. Chu Xia, however, couldn’t stop her tears from welling up as she said earnestly: “Shixiong, thank you.”

They were determined to work hard!

Among everyone in the group, Chu Jinglan had the best luck—he managed to open a pouch containing a high-quality golden crystal stone. Seeing this, Xiao Mo decided to pile all his unopened pouches onto Chu Jinglan.

Chu Jinglan: “?”

He had just been watching Xiao Mo happily open pouches moments ago—why wasn’t he opening them anymore?

Xiao Mo caught Chu Jinglan’s questioning gaze and replied confidently: “This is called ‘proxy opening.’ I’m borrowing your luck! If there’s someone with lucky hands nearby, why not take advantage of it? Go on—open them!”

Chu Jinglan: “…”

As always, Xiao Mo had his own ideas, so Chu Jinglan silently helped him with the task—helping to “proxy open” the pouches.

Among the five pouches, the best item was a profound-tier spiritual sword.

The swords Chu Jinglan had brought from the Lower Realm were mostly yellow-tier. Xiao Mo took the new sword, drew it from its sheath, and inspected it. The blade was bright silver, gleaming with a cold light. He tapped the sheath and blade lightly. Although Xiao Mo didn’t understand swords, spiritual swords were still magical artifacts, and by injecting spiritual energy into them, he could get a general sense of their quality.

“Not bad.” Xiao Mo slid the sword back into its sheath and tossed it to Chu Jinglan. “Perfect timing—you can replace your old sword.”

Chu Jinglan raised his hand and caught it steadily. The weight and feel of the sword suited him well. He said: “Wasn’t this a proxy opening?”

If it was a “proxy,” then logically, the item should belong to Xiao Mo.

Their belongings weren’t clearly divided at this point—whoever had space would store whatever they found. Xiao Mo thought to himself: Not bad—Chu Jinglan is even cracking jokes now. Though his tone remained flat, only Xiao Mo could tell he was joking.

Xiao Mo generously replied: “Consider it a gift.”

Finally, they finished opening all the storage pouches. Chu Jinglan switched to a larger storage device, and Xiao Mo replaced his smaller backpack storage device as well. They reorganized their items—some were placed in Chu Jinglan’s portable storage device, others in Xiao Mo’s backpack compartments, and even the children’s storage devices were filled with some items.

Thanks to today’s spiritual treasure rain from the great sects, excitement among those outside Lin’an Academy lasted throughout the day. Many felt their trip had been worthwhile. However, by nightfall, most people rested early in preparation for tomorrow—the day of the lectures—which would begin promptly at dawn.

For rogue cultivators, even with protective barriers in place, keeping watch overnight was essential. Especially after today’s treasure rain, those who struggled to acquire resources were even more cautious. Some were overly anxious, clutching their belongings tightly and refusing to sleep at all.

Xiao Mo relied on his cultivation level and racial advantages—he hadn’t rested for several days already. While sleep wasn’t strictly necessary for his survival anymore, prolonged wakefulness still led to mental fatigue.

The campfire warmed their small area comfortably. With the protective barrier blocking the wind, they didn’t need tents. The three children had already wrapped themselves in thin blankets and fallen asleep.

1 Kofi = 1 Extra Chapter