Dragon Boat Secret Realm, Part 3

Inside Honey Spirit Tea.

With the secret realm approaching, it was time to finalize the branch manager position. Su Qing called Jiang Shuang and Jia Song away from their tasks for a brief meeting.

Both knew their boss was decisive, informal, and approachable. This rare formal summons likely concerned the branch manager role, stirring anticipation in their hearts.

Jia Song, more composed, hid his emotions well. Jiang Shuang, younger and more spirited, struggled to stay calm, taking deep breaths and patting her cheeks to steady herself.

Su Qing wasn’t as composed as they thought. She grappled with inner conflicts but knew the decision couldn’t be delayed. A swift choice was best for everyone.

“These days, thanks to you both, Honey Spirit Tea has thrived. Your efforts let me focus on cultivation. This shop isn’t just mine—it’s our shared blood and sweat.”

Her gratitude was sincere, unlike bosses who made empty promises. She showed appreciation through fair treatment, not flowery words. When she spoke like this, she meant it.

Jiang Shuang’s eyes reddened, forcing a smile. “Why say that, boss? We’re paid for our work—it’s our duty. No one’s treated us better. Working here is our blessing.”

Jia Song, usually glib, stayed quiet, his brows drooping. He feared his slick words would backfire.

“There are many workers here, but you two were with me from the start. I trust you most,” Su Qing said, meeting their eyes earnestly. “Do you trust me? Say, to return safely from the secret realm?”

“Of course!” Jia Song replied instantly. “You’ll come back safe, with treasures to boot!”

Jiang Shuang nodded solemnly. “You’ll return safely. Heaven will protect you.”

“Looks like we agree on that,” Su Qing smiled. “I’ll borrow your good wishes.”

Getting to the point, she said, “For the East Market branch manager, I choose Jia Song. The East Market’s commercial scene is cutthroat, with big and small shops scheming ruthlessly. Jia Song’s sharp, tactful, and adept at navigating disputes—perfect for the role.”

She looked at him. “Jia Song, I’m entrusting the shop to you. Don’t let me down.”

Jia Song’s heart raced, a surge of joy nearly lifting his lips, but he suppressed it, saying gravely, “Thank you for your trust. I’ll pour my heart into running this shop well!”

Where there’s a winner, there’s a loser. Jiang Shuang’s lips trembled, tears welling, but she took deep breaths to swallow her disappointment, ready to congratulate Jia Song.

She didn’t want Su Qing to leave with worries.

Su Qing watched quietly, feeling her heart harden slightly. With a bit of authority, she’d instinctively learned to manage and balance her staff…

She could’ve been direct but chose to pause, holding back.

Perhaps because she knew, to go further, she had to master these skills. Her ambitions extended beyond a few tea shops.

When Jiang Shuang composed herself, Su Qing said gently, “Jiang Shuang, I didn’t choose you not because you’re lacking. You’re bold, innovative, full of ideas, warm, and considerate—a great manager. So, I have another task for you.”

“When the deed office offered me shop locations, I told you both there were two: one here, one in West Market. Both were excellent, and I couldn’t choose, so I leased both.”

Under Jiang Shuang’s stunned gaze, she continued, “The West Market shop is nearly renovated. It serves more mortals, less cutthroat than here, but running it well takes effort. Jiang Shuang, I need you to manage it. Are you willing?”

Jiang Shuang, wiping tears, exclaimed, “Willing? Of course I’m willing!”

She hadn’t expected this opportunity, her heart swelling with joy and gratitude.

Jia Song relaxed too. Moving Jiang Shuang benefited him—one shop, one boss. He could act freely. Jiang Shuang had been fair to him, and he didn’t want tension. This was ideal.

Plus, East Market’s prominence gave him more weight.

Su Qing addressed them both. “From now on, one in the east, one in the west, support each other. Handle small matters alone, discuss big ones together. It’ll work out.”

Relieved, she smiled. “That’s all. Next time we meet, it’ll be three years from now. I hope…”

…

As Su Qing prepared to return to Sword Sect for final preparations, someone called, “Boss!”

It was Aunt Li, the mother of the rogue who’d caused trouble. Jiang Shuang, seeing her diligence and pitying her, had kept her on with Su Qing’s approval.

With a troublesome son, escaping wasn’t easy. Su Qing had roughed him up a few times, taming him, allowing Aunt Li to stay.

“Aunt Li, what’s up?”

Aunt Li, hands wet, approached shyly, wiping them on her apron. She pulled a carefully wrapped cloth bundle from her bosom, revealing a plain wooden fish.

“I heard you’re heading to the secret realm—something about a dragon boat,” she said nervously. “I’m a simple woman, never seen a secret realm in my old age. My mother said she encountered one as a child, called something dragon something boat. She got this wooden fish then. Don’t know its origin, but we’ve used it as a protective charm.”

“You’re kind, good to us,” Aunt Li said, her cloudy eyes gleaming as she handed over the wrapped fish. “Come back safe, no matter what.” @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Su Qing scanned it with her divine sense—an ordinary wooden fish, unremarkable material, but polished to a glossy sheen from years of handling.

No treasure, but the sentiment was priceless. She didn’t do good for rewards, but being cared for felt warm.

When she climbed Sword Sect’s countless steps, she’d defined her Dao heart: to live with dignity and, if possible, help others do the same.

She seemed to be doing alright by that standard.

“Thank you, Aunt Li. I’ll accept it,” Su Qing said, rubbing the fish and smiling. “You’re not without blessings—they’re just arriving late. Your good fortune’s ahead. I’m off. Say hi to Little Ya for me.”

Little Ya was Aunt Li’s granddaughter.

Aunt Li stood at the shop door, watching the young woman blend into the crowd until she vanished. Clasping her hands, she prayed fervently for her safe return.

…

On the secret realm’s opening day, Su Qing checked her gear.

She wore a simple Dao robe, a storage bracelet on her left wrist holding Manqing Sword, and a tightly secured storage bag at her chest, stuffed with her entire fortune—no space left.

Days earlier, she’d shared items with Tian Ning and Tang Yueling, discussing their plans.

Tang Yueling said, “I’m heading to the Eastern Archipelago for a sharkman ruin. It’s rich in flame pearls and fire spiritual qi—perfect for my breakthrough.”

Stuck at Qi Refining Great Perfection, she aimed to break through in the realm. She could use Foundation Establishment pills but, with no lifespan concerns, preferred a solid foundation.

Tian Ning had planned, “The Northwest Sea has traces of ice jade spirit fruit. I’ll check it out.”

Su Qing warned, “Watch out for flame-fin sharks there.”

Tian Ning nodded. “If I meet them, I’ll bring you some specialties.”

Flame-fin sharks were ferocious but had tough hides, ideal for talisman materials or glossy sword sheaths.

Su Qing thought Tian Ning, with her high cultivation and rare mutated ice spirit root, was best suited for the sea environment. Tang Yueling, with her fire spirit root, faced disadvantages but had many artifacts and high cultivation to cope.

Su Qing, at Qi Refining Layer 3 with wood and metal spirit roots, had to worry most. The realm had islands with plants, giving her wood root some use. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

“I’m going to the Southern Archipelago,” she said. “A senior sister’s notes mention underwater spirit mines and a good body-refining spot.”

Their paths diverged, as cultivation often meant seeking individual destinies. Su Qing accepted this.

They agreed to meet in two years at Dragon Scale Island, the realm’s largest island, where the Dragon Boat last appeared. If unclaimed, it was likely there.

If it appeared, they’d challenge its thousand floors for treasures.

How did they know it wasn’t claimed? Sword Sect issued a task list to students. Non-mandatory tasks involved finding herbs, beasts, or treasures, earning points for high-level Cliff Pavilion legacies—a clear path to opportunities.

Crucially, points counted toward the academic ranking and a separate realm leaderboard. The sect with the most points would gain a tenth of the realm’s resources, massively boosting task appeal.

For Su Qing, survival came first—two-thirds might perish. Like others, she noticed the final task:

*Find clues to the seventh-tier artifact Dragon Boat, helping it return to the realm.*

*Points: 10,000.*

This implied the Dragon Boat remained unclaimed, contrary to rumors. The task’s difficulty meant completing it could catapult a sect to the leaderboard’s top, sharing resources with Sword Sect.

Their eyes burned with ambition.

“Two years, then?”

They sealed the pact.

“Two years!”

…

The crowd’s noise snapped Su Qing back. It felt like a National Day tourist crush—people everywhere, like the Sword Sect’s selection ceremony years ago, recreated today.

Soon, all sects gathered, and Sword Sect’s current leader, Wang Quan, appeared.

Su Qing’s first glimpse of him was through a sea of people, like spotting her university president in her past life—interesting but irrelevant.

Experience told her a student and a president rarely crossed paths.

Her keen senses let her see him clearly: unassuming attire, no overt aura, refined features, and a scholarly air matching his name’s “spring” character. Yet, he looked frail, almost sickly.

Su Qing blinked. A sect leader was no ordinary figure—likely hiding his strength.

Wang Quan waved his sleeve, sending three spiritual lights. A lustrous pearl shot into the sky, unleashing a terrifying pressure. A black crack appeared, expanding into countless lines, forming a blue-glowing gate.

Someone gasped, “A void rift!”

Elders below infused spiritual power into the gate. A light curtain swept across, like a door opening. An eager cultivator sent out divine sense but was rebuffed, bleeding from all orifices.

Su Qing squinted at the gate, glimpsing blue and hearing waves.

A clear, cold voice reached everyone: “The Dragon Boat Secret Realm is open. Please enter.”

Before the words faded, countless cultivators surged like startled birds—some on swords, some riding wind, others on artifacts—thousands streaming into the gate.

Did rushing in secure better loot?

Knowing her low cultivation, Su Qing avoided the crush, lest a high-level cultivator squash her.

After the main group entered, she summoned Manqing Sword, ready to fly in. A purple-black aura streaked across, plunging into the gate.

Frowning, Su Qing sensed it resembled an evil cultivator’s energy. Were they infiltrating?

The elders below noticed but remained calm, suggesting it was expected.

As the gate began shrinking, Su Qing flew in with her sword.

The sea’s scent hit her, a massive spiritual qi wave crashing like a tsunami. Her early Qi Refining cultivation couldn’t withstand it, and she blacked out.

Her last thought: *Thank goodness for the water-repelling pearl.* Drowning would’ve been too embarrassing.

…

Waking, Su Qing found herself in deep blue water. The pearl let her swim and breathe freely.

Her vision was foggy, as if veiled. Reaching up, she grabbed something slimy and soft.

Heart pounding, she nearly screamed. *What’s this?*

Inspecting it, she saw a translucent blue jellyfish, umbrella-shaped with a silvery top and deep blue edges, its slender tentacles swaying.

It was oddly pretty.

Searching her memory, she identified it as a Blue Crystal Umbrella jellyfish, a low-grade first-tier water-attribute spirit beast. Gentle, non-aggressive, it ate plankton called “wandering seeds” and was highly adaptable.

What else? She frowned, missing something crucial.

As a tentacle brushed her skin, a stinging pain reminded her:

*It’s venomous.*

A first-tier low-grade beast matched late Qi Refining—stronger than her. Luckily, its docile nature meant it wouldn’t attack unless provoked.

She gently released the jellyfish, letting it float away with its pulsing movements. Kicking her legs, she aimed for the surface to orient herself.

Then she remembered another key fact.

Blue Crystal Umbrellas always appeared in groups.

Before swimming far, she was surrounded by countless blue umbrellas—a sea of flowers. Her scalp tingled. Too many jellyfish—one sting each could kill her.

She felt their tentacles in her ears.

Swimming against them risked countless stings. With no choice, she went with the flow, pretending to be a jellyfish.

Swallowing a detox pill and using a breath-concealing technique, she swam with them.

But a human stood out. Tentacles brushed her, leaving red welts. Though only first-tier, her detox pills kept her alive. Gradually, she noticed something.

The jellyfish weren’t moving randomly—they followed an undercurrent rich in spiritual qi, especially water-attribute.

This was intriguing. Spiritual qi, regardless of type, healed the body, with wood being strongest, followed by water.

The jellyfish stung her; the qi healed her. Sting, heal, sting, heal—a cycle of destruction and repair.

Destruction? Repair?

She could use these jellyfish for body refinement.

Her eyes lit up.