Dragon Boat Secret Realm (Conclusion)

As the white jade fragment fell into Su Qing’s hand, she barely had time to discern its nature before the entire room shook violently.

It wasn’t just the room—the whole Dragon Boat Secret Realm trembled, as if desperate to expel something foreign.

In the quaking, the invisible barriers around Su Qing, Tian Ning, and Tang Yue Ling vanished.

They saw each other again.

Tang Yue Ling realized, “Today marks exactly three years since we entered. The secret realm is closing.”

The game was cleared, rewards distributed.

It was time to leave.

A crack tore open the sky, expanding into a massive blue gate—the exit to the outside world.

Failing to leave before the gate closed meant being trapped forever.

Some greedy souls, coveting the realm’s resources, had tried hiding past the deadline, hoping to leave next time, sated.

But they vanished, consumed by the realm as nourishment.

Three years had passed in a flash.

Suppressing her complex reluctance, Su Qing steeled herself, looking at the gate. “Let’s go.”

Tang Yue Ling summoned her golden phoenix artifact—its umpteenth iteration. “You go ahead. I need to find Shitao and the others.”

She had to ensure Shitao took the medicine.

“See you at the dorm.”

Su Qing and Tian Ning called forth their Man Qing and Xue Jin Swords, racing toward the gate.

Being closest, Su Qing should’ve been first through, but someone beat them—a nondescript female cultivator in a minor sect’s robes, with a mild gaze and calm demeanor.

Yet Su Qing sensed a bloody aura about her, at odds with her appearance.

Was she planning to kill for treasure? Su Qing stayed wary, but the woman showed no hostility, glancing at them before turning away.

Below, countless cultivators swarmed toward the gate like birds, their faces twisted with urgency.

“It’s over? I’m not dead? My will was for nothing? Great! Back to the sect!”

“Three years—do you know what I’ve been through?!”

“Every day here, it’s seafood or nothing, and I’m allergic!”

After three years of wandering, everyone craved a hot meal and rest.

Lagging at departure meant questionable priorities.

The female cultivator blended into the crowd and vanished. Since she made no trouble, Su Qing let it go, flying leisurely toward the gate.

Caught up in the crowd’s excitement, she felt the reality of returning.

Only now did she realize she’d grown attached to Sword Sect, her home for three years. She longed for a hot bath, loose disciple robes, and a lazy meal at the cafeteria.

Lots of dishes, big bowls of rice.

After eating, she’d tease Orange King at the Sword Testing Forest until he scampered. At night, she’d soak in Mirror Lake, floating under the stars.

There, she’d find the strength to bid this story farewell and start the next.

With these thoughts, her heart surged with anticipation. She rode her Man Qing Sword through the gate.

Dry mountain winds hit, washing away the island’s salty tang.

She was back in Tianque City!

Outside the gate, sect elders waited. Yan Yi Sect and He Rong Faction elders, after a heated quarrel and brawl, now stood nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened.

If not for their earlier foul-mouthed spat, onlookers might’ve believed their calm.

Sword Sect’s leader, Wang Quan, was there, looking frail as ever, like he wouldn’t last long.

Yet he’d survived centuries this way, so he wasn’t dying soon. Su Qing wouldn’t face the tragedy of a mid-term principal swap with new rules burning students.

His presence barely mattered. Unlike her old principals, he didn’t cheer, “Good luck!” or “Ace the test!”—just useless chatter.

He stood there, coughing weakly, his Tai’a Sword at his waist more commanding than him.

In truth, Wang Quan had ceded half of Sword Sect’s power to noble families, revitalizing it to keep it running.

Feelings toward him were mixed, a love-hate saga worthy of thousands of fiery posts on the confession wall.

So, disciples rarely discussed his merits, but seeing him, they couldn’t help muttering:

“There’s our Sword Sect guy.”

“He’s really Xiaoyao Immortal’s direct disciple?”

“Is he even a sword cultivator? His sword couldn’t cut tofu!”

“They say he’s so weak, Xiaoyao Immortal gave him the defensive Tai’a Sword to protect him.”

“Just standing there, he looks half-dead.”

“Think he hears us badmouthing him?”

“Our leader lives forever, eternal and boundless.”

“…That’s not exactly nice either, is it?”

Su Qing, having no dealings with Wang Quan or suffering his policies, graciously skipped the ritual of mocking him.

“I’m starving,” she said. “I want Cook Lady’s food. I feel like I could eat ten bowls of rice today.”

Tian Ning agreed, competitive. “I can eat eleven.”

“Thirty!”

“Forty!”

Racing to eat, they sped toward Sword Sect as streaks of light.

By the time Yan Yi’s Elder Tianyan brought Yu Huayi, and He Rong’s elder brought Ji Xingjian to complain under the guise of flattery, they were long gone.

“Sword Sect’s raised a fine talent. Congrats, Leader Wang,” He Rong’s Elder Qing said, dragging a half-crippled Ji Xingjian, now back to early Qi Refining, seething. “If not for your student’s sabotage, would my disciple have met a demonic cultivator and lost his cultivation?”

Ji Xingjian felt humiliated, sulking like a child forced to perform at a festival, unable to move.

He glanced around, relieved Ye Mingshi wasn’t there—she’d laugh him to death.

A dropped realm was fixable in Qi Refining. Why fuss?

Elder Qing sought benefits, and Ji Xingjian understood but felt embarrassed.

Wang Quan glanced softly. “That’s the demonic cultivator’s fault.”

His look pierced Ji Xingjian, who, hiding his demonic bone, averted his gaze guiltily.

“You say it’s the demonic cultivator’s fault, not your student’s?” Elder Qing glared. “Your lax oversight let one sneak in! Are your disciples treasures and mine grass? Call Su Qing out for a face-off!”

At that moment, Elder Tianyan stormed over with Yu Huayi and Shen Liuye. “Wang Quan, your intel was garbage! The Dragon Boat trial had no spirit bead nonsense, yet you charged five million spirit stones? Why not rob us?!”

Not five hundred, not fifty thousand—five million!

Elder Tianyan had emptied his coffers for the boat, gaining nothing. How would he write his Yan Yi Sect report? Could he advance?

“No issues with my intel,” Wang Quan sighed, feigning hurt. “Don’t believe me? Let’s swear a heart demon oath. If my info’s wrong, may my soul scatter.”

The intel was fine—just from the last trial, outdated.

He kept that quiet.

Unafraid of a fight, with Tai’a Sword’s protection, he couldn’t die. He could collapse and extort another five million for Sword Sect’s pitiful finances.

But, he sighed, “Elder Tianyan, lower your voice. If my students hear, they’ll roast me on the confession wall for a month.”

His sect reputation was already poor. Being a leader was tough.

Elder Tianyan was stunned. How could someone be so shameless?

Life at Yan Yi Sect wasn’t easy either. Talented disciples abounded, many with connections—a sect leader’s disciple here, an elder’s kin there.

He thrived but walked on thin ice, with many eyeing his seat.

But he had pride and wouldn’t admit it.

A sect leader had nowhere higher to climb. Wang Quan was just bragging.

Fuming, Elder Tianyan pressed, “Call your disciple out! You gave her the real intel. If yours was wrong, refund me!”

Yu Huayi felt embarrassed too. In the cultivation world, greed was normal but gauche to admit—it clashed with the transcendent image and suggested impure roots.

She felt uneasy, but seeing Ji Xingjian’s discomfort, they began a silent glare-off, trying to outdo each other.

Despite their aggression, Wang Quan remained unfazed.

When they pushed, he coughed softly, saying, “It’s not that I won’t call her, but we’re not close. Summoning her might upset her, and she could complain about me. You said she’s a genius, bound for greatness. I need to stay on her good side.”

“Besides, sword cultivators have big appetites. She’s growing, probably eating already. Can’t call her now.”

His evasive words enraged the elders, faces red, veins throbbing, hands on swords.

“Want to spar, friends?” Wang Quan widened his eyes, coughing behind his sleeve. “Cough, cough.”

He looked ready to shatter before fighting, primed to extort.

…

Pei Feijie held back his master, the Mountain-Opening Helm Leader, pleading, “Master, let’s not go. I praised her for her character, not to flatter her to the sect leader. It looks like I’ve got ulterior motives.”

“You know nothing,” the Helm Leader scolded. “Am I praising her feats? I’m building ties with Sword Sect’s leader for your junior siblings. This is student diplomacy!”

He flung his sleeve, joining the unadorned sect war.

…

Su Qing lost to Tian Ning, who reached the cafeteria first.

But she was second!

With second-year students still in the realm, Sword Sect was quiet, the cafeteria deserted.

Orange King lounged on a table, napping in sunlight, its golden fur tiger-like.

Hearing footsteps, it snapped awake, eyes wide, pupils dilated, stretching luxuriously.

It leapt down, yowling, rubbing against Su Qing.

Unable to resist, she petted it. Surprisingly docile, it squinted, enjoying it.

Its temper had softened. Had loneliness tamed it with no one around?
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But after her petting, Orange King’s brief docility ended. It flopped at her feet, triumphant.

“Finally, a human! You touched me, now pay tribute—ten chicken legs!”

With no one around, it had struggled, unable to even beg for food.

Poor kitten.

Su Qing knew the chicken leg debt was inescapable. She petted it again, getting her money’s worth.

As the cafeteria filled with hungry cultivators rushing the counter, faces screamed, “Food! Now!”

Another second’s wait seemed fatal.

Su Qing didn’t dawdle, darting to an open window.

It was Cook Lady’s station. She beamed at Su Qing. “You’ve grown taller, tanner, but spirited, stronger—good, good!”

Three years on, Cook Lady was unchanged—vibrant, robust, full of strength.

She piled Su Qing’s plate high, still unsatisfied, waving her ladle. “Eat up, come back for more. This one’s on me.”

Muttering, “Good to have you back. Without you all, Sword Sect’s lifeless. Orange King just sleeps, no energy. It’s better with people.”

Su Qing thanked her, carefully balancing her overflowing tray to a table.

Tian Ning was already eating, Orange King waiting patiently.

Su Qing set its chicken legs down. One person, one cat devoured, clearing everything.

Final tally: Su Qing ate eleven bowls, Tian Ning eleven.

A tie, with a rematch pending.

…

Full, Su Qing felt content.

She forced herself to bathe. Cleansing charms worked, but only a real shower—water washing every inch—felt truly clean.

Warm water rinsed away her fatigue and grime.

Back in her dorm, she dove into her beloved bed, passing out.

In the realm, rest was scarce, illusions and dangers constant, demanding full focus. Her body and mind were exhausted.

Only at Sword Sect, petting the cat, eating familiar food, seeing teachers and peers, and bathing, did her nerves relax.

She was safe, free to rest.

She slept three days and nights, unaware of Tang Yue Ling’s return, who was equally exhausted and crashed.

Tian Ning’s soft exit stirred Su Qing awake.

In the dim room, Tang Yue Ling still slept.

They used divine sense to communicate—a cultivator’s perk, reducing dorm conflicts.

[Did I wake you?]

[No, I’m rested. Going to practice swordplay?]

Tian Ning nodded, never slacking on training.

Su Qing felt competitive but said, [Go ahead. I’ll catch up.]

She had other tasks: inventorying her spoils.

Her favorite part.

After feeding Man Qing Sword and selling some, she had about 500 pounds of Spirit Sea Ore left. But the sword was growing picky, last excited when it “tasted” Li Jian’s sword during their duel.

She’d learned his Array-Breaking Sword was forged from fourth-tier top-grade Flame Gold Ore.

For a moment, her heart sank.

Barely any time, and her sword scorned third-tier mid-grade ore, craving fourth-tier top-grade.

She wasn’t blaming Man Qing Sword—she blamed herself for not providing better.
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She resolved to get fourth-tier ore to satisfy it. If Array-Breaking Sword had it, Man Qing Sword deserved it too.

Her main haul was Nine Heavens Spirit Grass, a rare main ingredient for Foundation Establishment Pills, among the priciest third-tier herbs. After sharing with Chen Minjing and Xiaocao and consuming some, she had about 100 stalks left—enough for two years.

No herb worries for a while.

Surprisingly, the damaged third-tier Ten Rakshasa Blood Blossom Array showed revival signs after soaking in the fish demon’s blood, its dim disk glowing with new patterns.

Lacking array knowledge, she didn’t understand it.

She planned to ask a friendly array disciple or study arrays herself. Restoring the array could be a major asset.

She’d already checked the evil cultivator Du Lao’s storage bag, so she skipped it.

Now, she examined the jade fragment from Xiao’e.

She couldn’t identify it. Strangely, it vanished into her dantian upon touching her hand.

Trusting Xiao’e wouldn’t harm her, she assumed it was safe, though its benefits weren’t clear. Sustaining Xiao’e’s soul for centuries, it was surely extraordinary. Even if not, it was a friend’s keepsake, and she’d nurture it in her dantian.

She sensed it could nurture spiritual energy, but its full effects needed time.

The real prize of the realm? Her enhanced foundation from the golden wood and—
@Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Contribution points.

Killing Du Lao earned 500 points.

Finding the Dragon Boat was worth 100,000, split among others. Her significant role ensured a hefty share.

Heart pounding, hands trembling, she checked her disciple jade tablet. Sword Sect’s efficiency delivered—20,000 points credited.

Higher than expected, given Tang Yue Ling, Tian Ning, and other Sword Sect disciples’ efforts during the Yan Yi attack.

Rubbing her hands, she opened the exchange list, eager for new items.

The top entry stunned her:

[Act as Sect Leader for a Day]

[Contribution Points: 100,000]

[Description: Curious about a sect leader’s life? Wonder how Sword Sect runs? Want to know what it takes to manage it? Redeem this for a day as Sword Sect’s leader!]

Su Qing looked away. Who’d spend points to work?

What lunatic wrote that?