My Cultivation Has a Progress Bar

Chapter 353: Chapter 82: Long-Awaited Relaxation

Yang Rong was very reserved when she first began to recount her adventures, but she opened up after a while.

She had lived a very exciting life these past few years, traveling nearly all over the Eastern Continent. She learned many strange languages and witnessed countless customs and cultures. Of course, there was no shortage of danger.

What concerned Wang Ping and the others most were the Demon Race ruins she had explored.

"Most of the ruins we explored had already been picked over many times, so there was basically nothing good left. The one place where I somehow managed to reach Foundation Establishment is still a mystery to me. My friends and I just felt an unbearable pain all over our bodies, so intense we couldn’t even pass out."

Yang Rong had a look of lingering fear.

Wang Ping immediately inspected her body. Her Inner Qi Sea and the meridians in her limbs were all fine. Moreover, her physical constitution had been elevated to a superior grade.

"Do you remember the Array?" Wang Ping asked.

"I don’t remember. After we woke up and discovered our cultivation levels had risen, a friend from the Earth Cave Sect thoroughly searched the area. He didn’t find any Arrays, not even a basic Energy Gathering Array."

Yang Rong replied softly. Her answer sounded a bit far-fetched, and perhaps she felt how absurd it was, because she quickly added, "Two of my friends are Cultivators from Nanlin Road. You can ask them to corroborate my story."

"No one doubts you."

"We’re just making small talk," Yu Lian comforted her.

Seeing how nervous Yang Rong was, Wang Ping stood up and called to Hu Qianqian, "Why don’t you take them out to the courtyard? And have someone prepare a jar of good wine for this evening."

"Yes, Master!"

After bowing respectfully, Hu Qianqian glanced at Shen Xiaozhu and gave her a wink. Shen Xiaozhu took the hint and gestured for Xia Wen Yi to head out of the courtyard. Hu Qianqian then pulled Yang Rong along, whispering to her as they walked out.

Wang Ping was pleased to see his disciples getting along so well. He was just about to take out the *Poison Classic* he had acquired to study it when Yu Lian handed him a rolled-up book of folk tales. "It’s New Year’s Eve," she said. "A rare chance to relax. Why not take the day off?"

"Alright!"

Smiling, Wang Ping set down the *Poison Classic* and took the book of folk tales to read.

He had just opened the book when he looked up at the sky. The winter clouds were incredibly thick and heavy, casting a gloomy pall over everything. "On a fine day like this, the sky should be clear and blue."

He raised his hand and pointed a finger at the sky. An invisible, pale green light shot through the heavens, piercing the cloud cover. The thick clouds then began to disperse at a visible rate, and before long, the gentle winter sun was shining down upon the land.

Wang Ping squinted, leaning against the Stone Table. He faced the sun, let out a slow breath, and turned his gaze back to the book. The words on the page seemed sharper and clearer than before.

Just then, the sound of a guqin began to drift from the garden. It was undoubtedly Hu Qianqian playing. As the music echoed, sounds of firecrackers and cheers from the county town below seemed to carry up through the air, reaching the Mountain Peak Dojo.

"This story is good. Read this one..."

Yu Lian used her snake tail to flip the book open to a page in the middle for Wang Ping. Then, using the Object Manipulation Technique, she brought over the brazier, added some firewood, and prepared to boil water for tea.

Wang Ping chuckled, a lazy expression on his face, and began to read the story Yu Lian had recommended.

"Read it aloud, I want to hear it too," Yu Lian said, busying herself with the tea.

"Haven’t you already read it?"

"I want to hear it again."

"Alright."

As Wang Ping began to read the story aloud, a scene unfolded in a clearing in the garden. Xia Wen Yi drew a Longsword and began to perform a sword dance, his movements synchronized with Hu Qianqian’s music. It was the Scholar’s Sword, a form he had learned before he began his life as a cultivator.

The pleasant afternoon passed by without anyone noticing.

That evening, Zhao Wan arrived at the Mountain Peak Dojo, leading the Deans of the various schools and their respective chief disciples. They came to present their New Year’s gifts. Wang Ping offered a few words of encouragement to each person before dismissing them to return down the mountain.

When it was nearly time for dinner, Wang Ping had Shen Xiaozhu go and extend a special invitation to Yu Cheng Taoist, but the Daoist declined.

Wang Ping didn’t press the issue.

At dinner, Hu Qianqian brought out a jar of fine wine called ’Red Seal.’ "This is a special vintage I found a few years ago," she explained. "It’s brewed from a rare red fruit that grows in a Demon Race settlement in the northern forests of Ningzhou Road."

As she spoke, she poured a full cup for Wang Ping first.

The wine was a deep red and had the sweet fragrance of fruit pulp.

Once everyone’s cup was full, the disciples, led by Hu Qianqian, raised their cups to toast Wang Ping. Wang Ping accepted the toast with a broad smile, clinking his cup against the one held aloft by Yu Lian’s tail.

The first taste was of a gentle, sweet fruitiness, followed by the slight bite of alcohol. A rich aftertaste lingered once it went down, the fragrance clinging to his nose and palate.

"This wine is incredible! Is there any more?"

It was the first time Yu Lian had ever praised a wine.

Wang Ping gave Yu Lian a thoughtful look. The wine was certainly good—it had a rich aftertaste and a strong flavor—but to him, it wasn’t as potent as yellow wine.

"I have two more jars. If we want more after that, we’ll have to wait two years. The fruit used to brew it is quite rare."

"We can just plant more of them. Bring back some seeds next time you have a chance." Yu Lian’s eyes lit up. In her mind, there wasn’t a single fruit tree that Wang Ping couldn’t bring to life.

"Alright!"

Hu Qianqian was about to offer an explanation, but then she thought of her master. He was a dignified Third Realm Taiyan Cultivator; surely growing a single fruit tree wouldn’t be beyond him.

As she answered, she rose again to refill Wang Ping’s cup.

The cheerful dinner lasted until the sky was completely dark. Finally, Wang Ping asked Xia Wen Yi what books he had been reading lately. Xia Wen Yi replied that he was on the middle volume of the *Human Dao*.

Wang Ping quizzed him on his studies, and his answers were all fairly smooth.

Xia Wen Yi had lost the arrogance he’d had when he first arrived, but a trace of stubbornness still lingered in his heart.

Wang Ping didn’t point it out. After quizzing him, he simply said a quiet "Good." However, perhaps out of a desire to nurture his talent, he couldn’t help but glance at Shen Xiaozhu.

Shen Xiaozhu understood instantly. Her master wanted her to guide her junior brother.

Around late evening, the disciples finally paid their respects and departed. Laughing and talking, they headed toward Shen Xiaozhu’s Dao Field, clearly planning to spend the whole night drinking and chatting.

「The next day, the first of the New Year.」

Wang Ping had just finished his morning cultivation when he heard the clamor from the ceremony site in the county town.

It was the ceremony held by Qianmu Temple at its station in the county town. The sky had not yet brightened, but over ten thousand people had already gathered at the site. They were all well-dressed members of prominent families, with the common folk of the city watching from the periphery.

Wang Ping’s golden statue was at the center of the ceremony. As he watched more than a hundred thousand people worship him, he felt the urge to cultivate a Divine Technique, but he quickly suppressed the impulse.

It was an incredibly strong temptation, like an ordinary person stumbling upon a pile of Gold. Wang Ping had to use the cold indifference of the Heaven-Reaching Talisman to forcibly suppress the urge within his heart.

Then, he projected his consciousness to Qianmu Mountain. The Inner Sect was also holding a ceremony—a low-key but very formal affair. Following the ceremony, there would be a tournament between the various schools. This tournament was part of the annual assessment, and the thousand-plus disciples had been preparing for it all year.

Furthermore, disciples from Sanhe Temple would also be participating in today’s tournament. They had arrived at Qianmu Temple half a month prior, with Zhao Wan coordinating all the arrangements.