Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 533 - 264: The Vermillion Mole and Li Nu’Er! Zhang Fan’s Question

The call from Li Yishan completely brought Zhang Fan’s thoughts back. He looked at the display on his phone, paused for a moment, and finally answered.

"Hello, where are you?"

Li Yishan’s familiar voice came from the other end of the phone.

"I’m on the high-speed train," Zhang Fan said lightly.

"You haven’t returned yet?" Li Yishan said casually.

"You knew I went on a trip?" Zhang Fan mused briefly, mysteriously.

"Yun Ma told me."

When he had just arrived in An Nan City, Zhang Fan had specifically called Jiang Yunxian, intending to visit Li Yishan, who was recuperating in Huizhou Province, on the way.

"Where are you?" Zhang Fan asked.

"Yujing."

"You’ve already returned?"

"Yes, I’m already back."

Their seemingly casual conversation this time carried a different atmosphere, as if hiding things unsaid, invisible yet present.

"Will you arrive at night?"

"I should arrive in Yujing around eight o’clock." Zhang Fan looked at the time and replied.

"Shall we have dinner together?" Li Yishan asked.

"Okay."

"I’ll wait for you at the usual place."

"Alright!"

Zhang Fan responded with a quiet hum, and the other side promptly hung up the call.

"You’re already making plans while still out?"

At this moment, Fang Changle’s voice came from the side, accompanied by an extremely suggestive look.

"Cultivators have impure thoughts, be careful, or you’ll regret it later." Zhang Fan glanced sideways, saying indifferently.

"Are you being possessed by Yuan Ling Crown!?" Fang Changle said sternly.

"I’m doing this for your own good. In today’s world, the Red Dust is becoming more and more polluted. We cultivate within the mundane, with stronger desires and greater tribulations. A moment’s carelessness and it’s all for naught." Fang Changle sighed.

"The Ancestral Master spoke well, productivity sets the upper limit of desire."

"In such a time, in another hundred years, perhaps no one will be able to cultivate anymore."

"Huh!? Productivity decides the upper limit of desire? What kind of reasoning is that?" Zhang Fan asked curiously.

"It’s the ironclad truth," Fang Changle said matter-of-factly.

"Look back, upstairs and downstairs, there were electric lights and telephones. Eating meat two or three times a week was considered a utopian dream lifestyle."

"Going further back, in ancient times, being able to eat, not starve, wear warmth, not freeze, was enough to satisfy ordinary folks."

"But now? Everyone wishes to drive luxury cars, ride yachts, and play with young women..."

"Ahem, ahem, ahem..."

Zhang Fan glanced around; passengers still unseated were already casting odd looks in their direction.

"In short, as societal productivity greatly increases, human desires leap greatly..." Fang Changle said solemnly.

It’s not that productivity hinders the development of cultivation, rather, higher productivity leads to stronger human desires, and such a Red Dust is even less suitable for cultivation.

The so-called End of Dharma Era perhaps stems from this.

In such times, even ancient Daoists who secluded themselves in deep mountains and great lakes would find it difficult to escape the pollution of the Red Dust, with desires rampant and great calamities inevitably arriving, the path of cultivation completely severed, leaving humans no longer mingling with immortals, dragons no longer cohabiting with snakes.

That is the true End of Dharma Era.

That is the true Absolute Heaven.

"You’re really a talent, damn it," Zhang Fan couldn’t help but say.

Listening to Fang Changle’s nonsense, he suddenly felt as if he was back in high school studying politics.

"Nonsense, I’ve participated in our Maoshan Social Cultivation Research Institute," Fang Changle said proudly.

"..."

Zhang Fan had never even heard of such a place at the renowned Maoshan, one of the Ten Great Taoist Sects!

"Cultivation must also keep pace with the times and respond to national policy calls," Fang Changle said earnestly.

"Young man, your awareness needs improvement."

As he spoke, Fang Changle grinned and patted Zhang Fan on the shoulder.

"You really managed to show off this time," Zhang Fan said lightly.

"Rare, rare..." Fang Changle laughed.

"Excuse me!"

At this moment, a gentle and melodious voice came from beside them.

Zhang Fan instinctively looked up, slightly entranced. A tall, beautiful woman stood there, wearing high heels, a long dress, and a small shawl over her shoulders, looking elegant and graceful. Her features were exquisite, lips red and teeth white, with a vermillion mark between her brows. She held a ticket in hand, looking at Zhang Fan and Fang Changle for help.

"We’re together, but our seats aren’t adjacent. Could we exchange seats with you?" The vermillion-marked beauty looked behind her.

Zhang Fan followed her gaze; behind the vermillion-marked beauty stood a young boy about twelve or thirteen years old, dressed stylishly, with a headband, engrossed in playing a mobile game.

"I’ll swap with you then."

Fang Changle sat on the outermost side. Seeing the woman with a child, he proactively got up.

"Thank you, my seat is in row nine, seat B," the vermillion-marked beauty said gratefully.

"Not a problem," Fang Changle said casually, then turned to Zhang Fan, "See you after getting off."

"Safe travels," Zhang Fan waved his hand, watching Fang Changle leave.

"Sorry to trouble you."

The vermillion-marked beauty sat next to Zhang Fan, and the boy sat in the outermost seat.

"Miss, you’re too kind," Zhang Fan said softly.

"Miss?!" The vermillion-marked beauty chuckled upon hearing the title.

"What’s wrong?" Zhang Fan asked.

"I’m over forty, old enough to be your mother."

"Over forty?"

Zhang Fan was taken aback, once again scrutinizing the beauty before him. Her skin was flawless, without even a hint of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, appearing no more than thirty years old.

"Uh... Aunty, you take excellent care of yourself," Zhang Fan said awkwardly.

Turns out, this vermillion-marked beauty was around the same age as his father, Zhang Lingzong, who was in his early fifties.