Dragon Boat Secret Realm 8: Biyun Island

After leaving Pure Water Island, Su Qing found a safe spot to rummage through the evil cultivator’s storage bag.

She declared this her favorite part of cultivation life. Even before crossing over, she loved watching unboxing videos, and now it was her turn to dig in.

Going through an evil cultivator’s storage bag required caution. One had to beware of hidden traps that could harm the unwary. After carefully disarming the bag’s mechanisms, Su Qing began tallying her spoils.

The evil cultivator was wealthy, and the haul was predictably substantial, but what caught her attention most was information related to the Dragon Boat Secret Realm.
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Only then did she understand why she’d inexplicably landed on Pure Water Island, caught up in its conflict. It wasn’t luck—it was a “burrow.” Upon entering the secret realm, this burrow activated, teleporting her to Pure Water Island.

A burrow, as the name suggests, was a passage dug by tomb raiders to access a tomb’s treasures. Since tombs held too much loot to carry in one go, raiders left burrows for repeated visits.

In secret realms, burrows served a similar purpose, created to ease exploration. Secret realms were vast, with limited time for exploration. Starting from scratch each time wasted time and opportunities. Thus, a group known as “Sky Thieves”—mockingly named for stealing heaven’s secrets—left burrows at key landmarks for themselves or future generations.

In Su Qing’s view, a burrow was like a game’s teleportation portal, and Sky Thieves were players who saved progress early. The evil cultivators had used black market intel and burrows to reach Pure Water Island the moment the secret realm opened.

The burrow on Su Qing was the small prayer fish Li Changniang had given her.

Logically, Li Changniang, from a mortal family under Tianque City, shouldn’t have ties to such things. But the Dragon Boat Secret Realm always opened near Tianque City, so perhaps, by chance, a black market prayer fish had fallen into mortal hands.

After all, the wooden fish wasn’t a rare treasure outside the secret realm—lacking spiritual energy or function, it was just a wooden fish. Su Qing checked the evil cultivator’s bag and found seven unactivated wooden fish, meaning seven more teleportation chances in the realm. If used wisely, they could save her life.

Each burrow worked only once, so Su Qing’s wooden fish had reverted to an ordinary object. She rubbed its smooth surface, grateful for the luck and safety it had brought her.

With the mystery of Pure Water Island solved, Su Qing calmed down and continued her inventory.

First was a detailed secret realm map, far better than her crude version—a must-keep.

Next were poisons. The evil cultivator relied on toxins, laced with sinister蛊 techniques, so half the bag held bottles, jars, and jade boxes of dangerous substances. Su Qing avoided the complex poisons, fearing backlash from her inexperience.

The casually stored poison pills, however, could be useful. Still, the cultivator’s methods were too vicious, so she’d only use them as a last resort. She planned to sell them to Danfeng students for practice later.

Beyond poisons, the bag held various magical artifacts—treasures and weapons, mostly low-grade, around first-tier. Only three were second-tier low-grade: a poisoned curved blade, a fan that shot poison needles, and a strand of celestial silk. The silk, nearly invisible to the naked eye, was razor-sharp when taut, capable of slicing beasts into pieces instantly.

True to an evil cultivator’s style, even their artifacts were toxic. Su Qing decided to sell the blade and fan but kept the celestial silk—a perfect tool for traps and attacks, requiring no extra spiritual energy, an ideal assassination weapon.

After the artifacts, Su Qing gleefully counted spirit stones. The cultivator was surprisingly rich—likely from funding their poison-crafting. She tallied roughly 8,000 low-grade spirit stones, 600 mid-grade, and four high-grade.

She’d struck it rich.

Beyond poisons, artifacts, and stones, the bag’s contents were a chaotic mix. There were many cultivation techniques, but most were fragmented, likely stolen. Su Qing also found disciple tokens from small sects—likely victims of the cultivator—and a few from evil or demonic sects, though she couldn’t tell which was his true affiliation.

After sorting the bag, Su Qing’s spirits soared. She held a radiant high-grade spirit stone, sat down, and began cultivating.

Why feel guilty using others’ things? What’s used on you becomes yours.

…

“How long are you going to stay here cultivating?”

Jiang Xiaocao heard a tiny voice. Looking down, he saw the hamster-sized earth sprite, small but fiery-tempered, ready to swing its tiny hammer if looked at condescendingly.

Jiang Xiaocao set down his wrench, crouching carefully to explain, “I don’t know where to go if I leave. I came to learn artifact crafting, and this place has plenty of puppets to study, so of course I’m staying.”

The sprite bristled. “You’ve fixed every puppet in the village and even built next-generation ones! Your task is done—take the Gold Spirit Pearl and go to the Dragon Boat Secret Realm, not tinker with broken puppets!”

As a fifth-tier earth sprite, born of heaven and earth, it could tell this human was essentially a blade of green grass. Honestly, it didn’t mind him—his companion, Gold Silk Wood, was also a spiritual plant. But this grass, newly sentient, was a bit dim.

Forging Gold Island was the second most dangerous of the Five Elements Islands, after Fire Dawn Island. Beyond its weapon arrays, the fearless, pain-immune, unkillable puppet army overwhelmed most cultivators. Earning the Gold Spirit Pearl from the sprite was no easy feat—it had to guard its master’s legacy.

But it never expected a plain blade of grass to slip in this time. His stealth talent was uncanny, letting him reach the island’s core unimpeded.

The reason? Even Forging Gold Island had grass, and the puppet army didn’t bother attacking a stray blade. After sneaking in, this grass inexplicably settled among the puppets.

Puppets had homes to avoid wear from weather. Jiang Xiaocao found their village, stumbled into the repair room, and discovered the sprite’s tools and maintenance notes.
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From then on, he “enlightened,” becoming the puppet village’s repair master, hammering and tweaking puppets daily, calling the notes his “crafting legacy.”

At first, the sprite scoffed at this grass stealing its job, doubting he’d last. But a year later, Jiang Xiaocao had overhauled the entire village, repairing and oiling 1,000 puppets and crafting new ones from scrap. The sprite belatedly realized: this grass was pretty good, and hadn’t he technically completed the island’s task?

It should reward him. But what do you give a blade of grass on Forging Gold Island, not Pure Water, Earth Breath, or Green Wood Island?

After some thought, it offered its maintenance notes. The grass treated them like treasure, thanking it profusely and offering to treat it to meals. Well, this grass was kinda nice.

But problems arose. With the notes, Jiang Xiaocao refused to leave, studying and experimenting on the island. This wouldn’t do—he needed to join the Dragon Boat trial! Plus, the longer he stayed, the more crafting materials he used. The 1,000 puppets had grown to 1,500 with his next-generation models.

Next time the secret realm opened, cultivators would have a headache.

The sprite gnashed its teeth. “You leave today. No thanks or meals needed—just go, and that’s my greatest thanks.”

At this point, Jiang Xiaocao realized it was time to leave. Shame, though—his third-generation puppets were nearly ready, and he’d have to test them outside.

The sprite hammered the ground, summoning a golden pearl to Jiang Xiaocao.

“Alright.” He wiped his grimy face, saying honestly, “Thanks for your hospitality, but I don’t need the Gold Spirit Pearl. Without it, the island’s puppets can’t function.”

“Obviously,” the sprite softened. “This isn’t the real pearl, just one with its aura. The Dragon Boat will recognize it.”

Mentioning the trial, Jiang Xiaocao asked, “Can I skip the Dragon Boat Secret Realm? It’s on the sea, and without soil, I feel uneasy.”

“Up to you,” the sprite didn’t press. “Sell it if you want—my task’s done.”

Thus, Jiang Xiaocao left Forging Gold Island with the pearl. The moment he stepped out, high-tier barriers rose, signaling the island’s legacy was claimed.

Forging Gold Island was near the secret realm’s entrance, with many cultivators lurking, eyeing the legacy holder. But they caught nothing—his ordinary face blended into crowds like a drop in the sea. His stealth talent was too effective.

Jiang Xiaocao had no plans for the Dragon Boat trial. When the crowd thinned, he spotted a seemingly wealthy crafting cultivator and approached. “I have a Gold Spirit Pearl. Want to trade for crafting materials?”

The cultivator sneered. “Scammers in the secret realm now? I say I’ve got a pearl too—believe me?”

“No.” Jiang Xiaocao shook his head, pulling out the shimmering golden pearl. “The real one’s here. Trade for materials?”

The pearl radiated dense gold-attribute spiritual energy, instantly convincing the cultivator. Even if not from Forging Gold Island, it was a priceless treasure.

This unremarkable kid with a forgettable face had such a gem.

The cultivator’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Let’s talk privately.”

They moved to a secluded spot.

Jiang Xiaocao’s requested materials were mostly low to mid-tier, the rarest only third-tier low-grade. The cultivator, a notable freelance craftsman, had plenty. He packed a storage bag, saying, “One hand delivers, one hand receives—together.”

Jiang Xiaocao saw no issue, handing over the pearl as the cultivator passed the bag, adding, “Check for anything missing.”

The cultivator, ecstatic with the pearl, muttered, “A real Gold Spirit Pearl!” His hands trembled, eyeing the oblivious, bag-checking Jiang Xiaocao. His weak aura suggested early Qi Refining, while the cultivator was late-stage. Easy pickings.

Jiang Xiaocao finished checking, satisfied. “This is exactly what I need—”

Before he finished, a gleaming curved blade stabbed his chest, piercing clean through.

Jiang Xiaocao’s eyes widened, uncomprehending. “Your blade’s a bit cold.”

The cultivator cackled, twisting the knife deeper. “Don’t blame me—blame your stupidity, flaunting treasure like a kid with gold in a market! People like you are doomed. I’m just sending you off quick!”

He twisted the blade and yanked it out.

Strangely, no blood spurted—only green grass blades floated out. The ordinary-faced youth showed no pain, his smile fading, staring blankly.

Without his naive grin, the innocent air vanished, replaced by a chilling, inhuman aura, as if something terrifying hid beneath his human guise.

The cultivator’s courage faltered, stepping back. “What protective treasure is this?”

Jiang Xiaocao’s dark eyes fixed on him. “You tried to kill me?”

“Shut up!”

The cultivator rallied his spiritual energy, unleashing his artifact at Jiang Xiaocao. Having struck, he’d go all in to eliminate future threats.

But as he moved, countless grass strands erupted from the ground, stretching three meters high, engulfing him. They wove into a cocoon, writhing as if feeding. No screams came—just eerie silence.
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Jiang Xiaocao stood, a gaping hole in his chest, but the skin beneath was unmarred, no scars. He touched the fabric, muttering, “Need to mend clothes again.”

Good thing he was skilled with a needle, able to patch it seamlessly.

In a few breaths, the grass strands sank back, harmless again. The cultivator had vanished—no finger, blood, or cloth remained.

A whole person, gone so simply.

“This was supposed to be a fair trade,” Jiang Xiaocao said, picking up the dropped storage bag, troubled. “Now I’ve got everything.”

…

Su Qing pulled out the map and wooden fish from the storage bag.

After a month’s rest, her Manqing Sword had gathered enough purple energy. She planned to head to Biyun Island in the south to find underwater spirit mines.

Nearly half a year had passed, and Manqing Sword’s “rations” were nearly depleted. Though a sword couldn’t complain about poor food, its slowing absorption rate showed its dissatisfaction.

This made Su Qing feel guilty—love meant always feeling you owed something. She thought Manqing Sword hadn’t had a good life with her.

Among the evil cultivator’s seven wooden fish, one could teleport near Biyun Island. To save time, Su Qing activated its burrow, landing on the island.

Biyun Island lived up to its name—a breathtakingly beautiful place in a vast, azure sea. Perhaps due to gentle currents, the sea was calm, mirroring the sky like a shimmering glass. White clouds seemed to float in the water, a stunning sight.

The island was famed in the secret realm for its abundant resources—rare spiritual plants on land and hidden underwater mineral veins near its reefs.

With nearly a year since the secret realm opened, Su Qing should’ve expected a crowd.

She should’ve—

But landing on Biyun Island, she was stunned to find a cultivator settlement. Worse, two Hefeng Sect disciples stopped her, demanding an entry fee.

What nonsense—charging protection fees in a secret realm?

The disciples, around sixth-layer Qi Refining, weren’t weak, and more Hefeng Sect members likely backed them. Su Qing dropped the idea of forcing her way in, asking, “What about the seabed? You don’t control that, right?”

They replied, “The seabed’s not ours, but to mine there, you pay Xuangfeng Pavilion’s mining fee.”

Mining fee?

Su Qing didn’t get it. “How much?”

The disciple, well-versed, flashed two fingers.

“Two hundred spirit stones?”

Su Qing calculated—it was steep but bearable. Mining for her sword was the priority.

“Two hundred?” The disciple laughed. “Two thousand!”

“Two thousand? Why not rob me?” Su Qing frowned. “The Dragon Boat Secret Realm belongs to our Sword Sect. Even sharing it with other sects doesn’t mean carving up territories. Why’s Biyun Island your domain, demanding entry fees?”

Unlike evil cultivators, sect disciples could be argued with without fear of lethal retaliation. At worst, a fight would teach a lesson, not take a life.

So, Su Qing figured she could argue a bit.

But many had tried, and the disciples weren’t fazed. “Talk all you want—no fee, no entry. Our sect’s disciples are many. Try forcing your way and see what happens!”

Outnumbered, Su Qing turned to Songtao Island, the nearest, to rest and plan.

On Songtao Island, she found many cultivators—Sword Sect, Medicine King Valley, smaller sects, and freelancers—but no Hefeng Sect or Xuangfeng Pavilion members.

Clearly, they’d been driven out from Biyun Island.

Sure enough, as she landed, someone approached. “Which sect are you from? Been to Biyun Island? Hefeng Sect and Xuangfeng Pavilion are too much! Join us to take back Biyun Island!”