Chapter 865: Peach Blossom Haven

In the ancient immortal realm of Qing Ling, lush vegetation thrived, and medicinal herbs carpeted the land.

In the early days, countless cultivators flocked here in search of sacred herbs. But eventually, even the most abundant resources were exhausted.

Now, the crowds had dwindled, yet Qing Ling City remained bustling and prosperous. Unlike other places, the city was vast, its walls stretching for hundreds of miles.

Within the city, numerous cobblestone paths wound through enchanting woodlands, creating breathtaking scenery.

“The City of Flora,” Shi Hao murmured in approval. Qing Ling City was indeed extraordinary, with ancient trees and picturesque hills enclosed within its walls. It felt less like a city and more like a sacred grotto of spiritual beauty.

Of course, there were also lively and prosperous districts, where streets teemed with people, shops lined the avenues, and sacred herbs were auctioned alongside rare treasures for exchange.

Shi Hao strolled along the streets, passing through the bustling market before following a cobblestone path to a place of extraordinary scenery.

It was a peach blossom grove—a tranquil paradise carved out of the city’s clamor. The grove was elegant and otherworldly, filled with ancient peach trees stretching as far as the eye could see.

Amid the peach blossoms stood small taverns, modest teahouses, and grand pavilions, each spaced apart and half-hidden among the pink petals.

His expression shifted slightly. These peach trees were no ordinary flora—they were spiritual peach trees, their crystalline petals exuding a delicate fragrance that soothed both body and mind.

Strangely, some branches bore fruit alongside blossoms, creating an ethereal sight where flowers and fruit coexisted, their fragrance rich and intoxicating.

It felt like stepping into a transcendent realm, a secluded paradise untouched by the mortal world.

“Another jug of wine!” someone shouted from a small tavern nestled among the peach trees. The scent of wine wafted through the air—undoubtedly medicinal liquor with potent effects.

“I’ll take a jug as well,” Shi Hao said, sitting down. The emerald-green cup shimmered with amber-hued medicinal wine, its aroma irresistible. He poured himself a drink, savoring it slowly.

After a fierce battle, arriving in such an idyllic retreat was a rare pleasure.

The tavern had only eight or nine tables, polished to a shine and set outdoors. Each table had two or three stools—simple yet full of rustic charm.

“Have you heard? The Nest Realm has been plagued by evil. Tens of thousands went in, and none returned—a horrifying tragedy!”

“Rumors say a demon emerged from the nest, drinking blood and unstoppable in its rampage.”

The news had finally spread, though details were distorted. Still, it was clear that the place was a death trap.

In recent days, discussions had erupted across many minor realms, likely spurred by the Long Fairy’s posted illustrations, stirring significant unrest.

“And there’s another shocking piece of news—the Six Crown King’s spirit avatar perished in the Nest Realm.”

“Heavens! Even the invincible Ning Chuan lost an avatar. What kind of place is that?”

The revelation sent shockwaves through the tavern, leaving cultivators pale-faced.

“Some say it fell in the Death Nest. Others claim it was the Shi Clan’s three brothers who killed it.”

“Tens of thousands died in the Death Nest, with almost no survivors. The vague reports came from the Dragon Palace—nothing is certain yet.”

“Still, some insist it’s related to the Dual-Pupils and the Desolate One—and that they might be brothers.”

“By the heavens! The Desolate One and the Dual-Pupils—brothers? How is anyone supposed to compete with that?”

The once-serene peach grove tavern erupted into chaos, losing its tranquility.

In truth, the same scene played out in every teahouse and tavern in the grove. The recent events were too shocking, shaking the very foundations of the cultivators’ world.

“Pity there’s no game meat,” Shi Hao muttered. The wine was excellent, but the side dishes were all medicinal herbs like Solomon’s seal and ginseng—no meat in sight.

“Brother, if you crave delicacies, deeper in the grove are grand pavilions where you can find anything. My humble tavern only serves medicinal herbs, but there, even trading sacred herbs for a meal would be worth it,” the tavern owner said.

“What do they have?” Shi Hao asked, intrigued.

“What are your preferences?” the owner inquired.

“I enjoy all manner of divine beasts and fierce birds—especially if they’re of the Progenitor lineage,” Shi Hao said, his eyes gleaming.

The tavern fell silent. Everyone turned to stare at him as if he were a monster.

He wanted to eat Progenitors? What kind of madman was this?

Shi Hao chuckled awkwardly. “Just joking.”

“Not funny at all. That kind of talk could get you killed,” someone muttered.

“Brother, the pavilions deeper in the grove have powerful backers. They can satisfy your cravings. Rumor has it they’ve served Golden-Winged Great Pengs, the Eight Ancient Delicacies’ Phoenix, and even Three-Legged Golden Toads.”

“Really?” Shi Hao perked up. In the lower realm, he had only tasted one of the Eight Ancient Delicacies—a Dragon Carp from the Spirit Lake of the Stone Kingdom, secretly stewed when he became emperor.

“Absolutely true,” the tavern owner assured.

“Perfect,” Shi Hao said, downing his last cup before heading deeper into the grove. He had come for Qing Yi but now looked forward to sampling rare delicacies.

He had found Qing Yi’s mark in Bright City, leading him here to Qing Ling City.

“Who is this guy, talking about eating Progenitors? He reminds me of that rumor from Bright City.”

“Right—something about a demon king who devoured several Progenitors, shaking Bright Realm. Some say it was the Desolate One, others say a man named Shi Hao.”

Behind him, murmurs and whispers spread.

“Brother, the people there are powerful. Progenitors are common, and the prices are exorbitant,” the tavern owner called after him.

“Thanks, noted,” Shi Hao replied without turning, waving a hand dismissively.

Deeper in the grove stood magnificent jade pavilions—more than one.

Shi Hao chose the grandest, wreathed in mist and glowing with crystalline light. Its plaque read: “Eight Delicacies Pavilion.” Intrigued, he strode toward it.

Whoosh!

A gust of wind swept through as a black ancient coffin flew overhead, carried by a group of eerie figures. They passed dangerously close, their feet nearly grazing Shi Hao’s head—a blatant disrespect.

With a thud, they landed. The coffin opened, and a pale-faced man stepped out, heading into the pavilion.

Shi Hao had no love for the Netherworld Clan and was tempted to swat them all down. But he held back when he heard gasps from the crowd.

“The Second Nether General!”

“He’s the second strongest under the Dark Divine Son—a reanimated ancient corpse, impervious to weapons and artifacts. He’s slain more than one Progenitor.”

The Netherworld was full of strange corpses. For the sake of the ancient immortal realm’s treasures, all hidden powerhouses had been unleashed.

“What are these dead things doing here?” Shi Hao wondered.

He ascended the pavilion—a towering structure of jade, majestic as a celestial palace, suffused with dense spiritual energy.

Climbing several floors, he sensed something and reached the top level. Choosing a table by the window, he gazed out at the peach grove’s beauty.

This pavilion was extraordinary, hosting Progenitors and supreme experts from across the realms. It wasn’t just for dining—it was a hub for exchanging rare goods and information.

“Enduring six or seven lifetimes—who is this person? And to have taken that step… It’s terrifying. Few will rival him in the future.”

“Truly ruthless—slaughtering tens of thousands in one go. How many did he kill in ancient times?”

The discussions here were closer to the truth, spoken by Progenitors and elites who knew far more than the tavern crowd.

“What would you like, fellow Daoist?” a server approached Shi Hao.

“First, a jug of wine brewed from sacred herbs. Better yet, if you have divine herb wine,” Shi Hao said.

The server gaped. This man had audacity. “Divine herbs? None here. We have a few sacred herb wines, but they’re reserved.”

“Disappointing,” Shi Hao remarked bluntly.

The server frowned. “There’s half a jug of sacred herb wine left. We can sell you a cup—but it’s expensive.”

“Fine, bring a cup for now. And a full set of the Eight Ancient Delicacies,” Shi Hao said casually.

The server, a Divine Flame Realm cultivator, wiped sweat from his brow. Who was this man?

Others nearby also stared in astonishment.

“Brother, those eight delicacies are called ‘ancient’ for a reason—they’re incredibly rare. Even sect masters of the upper realm can’t enjoy all eight at once. The Eight Delicacies Qilin, for instance, appears once every few millennia, if that,” the server explained, sweating.

“False advertising. It’s called the Eight Delicacies Pavilion, yet you don’t have all eight? Whatever—bring what you have,” Shi Hao waved impatiently.

“Currently, we have two: the Eight Delicacies Carp and the Eight Delicacies Phoenix.”

The carp was a Dragon Carp, the phoenix a Flying Phoenix—both exceedingly rare, the latter worth half a sacred herb. Few would indulge in such extravagance for mere taste.

“Good, hurry up,” Shi Hao urged.

Then, his gaze shifted to a private room where Qing Yi sat. Though not in her true form, her beauty was peerless—her body like flawless jade, wreathed in a halo of azure light.

She resembled a hazy blue moon, ethereal and breathtaking.

Her grace and charm drew many admiring glances, though none dared approach. The room also held formidable figures—Progenitors among them.

A golden-haired man of noble bearing chatted amiably with Qing Yi, surrounded by powerful companions. They were from the Immortal Palace, and the golden-haired man was clearly courting her.

Most in the pavilion avoided provoking them.

“So, the heir of the Immortal Palace is issuing a bounty for the Desolate One?” Qing Yi smiled.

“Indeed. Whether he’s the Desolate One, Shi Hao, or the inheritor of the Supreme Dao Field—it makes no difference. His defeat is inevitable,” the golden-haired man replied smoothly.

Shi Hao listened quietly, eyes half-lidded.

“I recall the Immortal Palace heir once lost to the Desolate One,” Qing Yi remarked lightly.

The pavilion buzzed with shock. Even Progenitors stared, surprised by her boldness.

“That was before his primary and secondary bodies merged. Now, united, he will surpass all ancient sages. Crushing the Desolate One will be trivial,” the golden-haired man said, his tone confident.

Another added, “Our lord has declared a bounty. Those who provide leads will be richly rewarded. Once the Desolate One is found, our lord will emerge to personally subdue him—and take him as a servant.”

The crowd erupted. The Immortal Palace heir wanted to enslave the Desolate One?

“Indeed. Whether from the Supreme Hall or the Supreme Dao Field, all inheritors shall kneel before the Immortal Palace,” the man proclaimed.

“Oh? So anyone who provides a lead gets a reward, and the Immortal Palace heir will come in person?” Shi Hao interjected.

“Correct. Our lord will personally suppress the Desolate One as his servant,” came the reply.

“Then hurry and fetch divine and sacred herbs as payment. And invite the Immortal Palace heir here—I know where the Desolate One is,” Shi Hao said.