An idea took root in his mind, impossible to suppress.

I can’t take the main stalk, but I can certainly take a shoot!

To others, these shoots were “chicken ribs”—tasteless and worthless. Without the unique lightning-struck environment of the cliff, they would wither and die within days. But Chen Ping had the Black Earth space.

The slaughter on the platform reached a fever pitch. Blood mist filled the air, and no one paid attention to the few inconspicuous purple shoots sprouting in the shadowy crevices at the edge of the cliff.

Chen Ping did not hesitate. Using the jagged shadows of the cliff face and the chaotic noise of the battle as cover, he climbed silently up the steep rock wall.

His movements were precise and weightless, his aura completely retracted. He poured all his Divine Sense into perceiving the surroundings, ensuring he remained in the blind spots of the combatants above.

Finally, he reached the shadow of a massive boulder near the edge.

The density of the Thunder Qi here was terrifying; it made the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.

Chen Ping scanned the crevice and selected a shoot that appeared the most vibrant. A faint but pure silver arc of electricity danced around its tip.

To minimize spiritual fluctuations, he did not use any Dharma Artifacts. Instead, he coated his hands in a layer of gentle Qi. He dug gingerly into the hard rock and soil surrounding the shoot, moving with surgical precision to avoid damaging the fragile root system.

Despite his caution, his actions caught the attention of a sect cultivator skirmishing on the periphery of the battle.

The cultivator, a burly man at the ninth layer of Qi Condensation, glanced out of the corner of his eye. Seeing Chen Ping digging up a useless shoot, he froze for a moment before a look of undisguised sneering and contempt washed over his face.

“Tch! Moron! What’s the use of digging that up?” the man scoffed in a low voice, shaking his head. “Once it leaves this Thunder Cliff, it’ll turn to dust in three days!”

He spat on the ground and ignored Chen Ping, turning his attention back to the central melee.

If the Millennium Origin Thunder Bamboo wasn’t claimed, anyone could still be the final winner. As for Chen Ping? In his eyes, and the eyes of every other contender, this behavior was the height of stupidity.

Everyone knew the growth conditions of the Origin Thunder Bamboo.

It required rooting in specific lightning-struck rock layers and weathering at least one perfectly timed heavenly lightning baptism every month to temper its patterns. Too much lightning, it scorched; too little, it rotted. The requirements for soil, Qi, and environment were perversely strict.

Transplanting it?

Simply a fool’s dream.

Chen Ping acted as if he hadn’t seen the contemptuous gaze. He was entirely focused on his task.

Done.

He pulled the tender purple bamboo shoot from the rock, keeping a small clump of original soil wrapped tightly around its roots.

The shoot felt heavy and cold in his hand. Faint threads of electric arcs danced across its husk, sending a numbing tingle through his skin.

He quickly stowed it in a prepared Storage Bag.

Without pausing, he repeated the process, digging out the remaining two Origin Thunder Bamboo Shoots with the same mechanical efficiency.

He scanned the immediate area. No more shoots.

Chen Ping turned without a hint of reluctance. He slid down the steep cliff face like a gecko, vanishing into the chaotic stone forest at the base of the cliff in just a few leaps.

Almost immediately after he disappeared, the chaotic battle atop the cliff reached its bloody conclusion.

Clang—!

A clear, melodious sword cry resounded through the clouds, piercing the thunderous roar of the cliff!

A sword light, brilliant and cold as the moon, swept across the platform. It carried a chill that seemed to freeze time and a sharpness that severed everything in its path.

Snap! Snap!

Several Dharma Artifacts held by the besieging cultivators were instantly sheared in half. Two cultivators struck by the residual waves of the sword light screamed as they were blasted backward, blood spraying across the sky in a grim mist.

The sword light retracted, revealing a tall, imposing figure standing beside the main stalk of the Millennium Origin Thunder Bamboo.

She wore the pristine white Dharma robe of a Qingyun Sect True Disciple. Her posture was upright, her curves graceful yet imposing. A silver mask covered her face, revealing only a pair of eyes as clear and cold as a deep, icy pool.

In her hand, she held a long sword that was entirely azure blue, overflowing with freezing air. Drops of fresh blood slid slowly from its tip.

Behind her, seven or eight Qingyun Sect disciples quickly gathered, forming a defensive formation. They stared vigilantly at the surrounding cultivators, who looked furious but dared not speak.

“Qingyun Sect, Bai Yue!”

A cold female voice rang out from beneath the mask, carrying unquestionable authority.

“This bamboo belongs to my Qingyun Sect! Does anyone object?”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it was infused with powerful spiritual pressure and icy killing intent, drilling into the ears of every survivor.

having witnessed that terrifying sword strike and seeing the fresh corpses, the remaining cultivators’ expressions shifted. The greed in their eyes battled with fear, but fear won. One by one, they chose silence, retreating slowly and unwillingly.

Bai Yue ignored them. She extended a hand clad in an ice-silk glove and gingerly severed the Millennium Origin Thunder Bamboo at its base, storing it in a specially crafted jade box to preserve its lightning properties.

The entire process was clean, efficient, and dominant.

After securing the treasure, her gaze inadvertently swept over the edge of the cliff, down toward the chaotic stone forest where Chen Ping had vanished.

Concealed by the silver mask, her expression was unreadable, but those cold eyes seemed to flicker slightly.

She withdrew her gaze and spoke coldly to the disciples behind her.

“Let’s go. To Lingyun Peak.”

Her voice remained frosty, without a single ripple of emotion.

One of the Qingyun Sect disciples hesitated, glancing down the cliff.

“Senior Sister Cold, there seems to be a Junior Brother from our Outer Sect down there. He appears to be separated from the main group. Should we…”

“Unnecessary.”

Bai Yue interrupted him, her tone indifferent.

“The path of cultivation is treacherous; each follows their own fate. He has his own path.”

Without waiting for a response, she transformed into a cold stream of light, shooting toward Lingyun Peak.

The other disciples hurriedly followed.

In the chaotic stone forest below, Chen Ping hadn’t gone far.

He had restrained his aura to the limit, hiding behind a giant rock like a shadow. He had witnessed everything atop the cliff and naturally heard Bai Yue’s final words.

“Bai Yue…”

A familiar surname.

He etched the name into his memory.

Same surname as Bai Zhi…

This woman’s strength was formidable, and her actions were decisive and domineering.

Chen Ping had always believed that the Qingyun Sect was merely a mid-tier power, its apparent strength unimpressive.

I was wrong.

The existence of such a prodigiously talented cultivator suggested the Sect’s foundations were far deeper than he had imagined.

I need to be even more cautious when I return.

Once the Qingyun Sect group had flown far into the distance, Chen Ping slipped into a fissure in the rocks and entered the Jade Pendant space.

Inside, the air was still and filled with the scent of earth.

He carefully removed the tender purple Origin Thunder Bamboo Shoots from the Storage Bag.

As expected, having left the unique environment of Falling Thunder Cliff, the shoots were deteriorating rapidly. The faint electric arcs on their surface had dimmed considerably, and the purple hue at the tips was fading to a dull gray. Their vitality was draining away by the second.

Chen Ping remained calm. He quickly designated a new area within the “Rare Treasures” section of the Black Earth to plant them.

The silver thunder arcs fluctuating around these shoots were volatile; they might damage other delicate spirit medicines.

He deliberately planted them far away from the True Essence Fruit tree.

He dug three deep holes in the Black Earth and planted the bamboo shoots, ensuring the clumps of original soil were intact.

In moments…

The Black Earth once again displayed its unreasonable, tyrannical inclusiveness.

As soon as the roots of the bamboo shoots touched the black soil, a visible tremor ran through the plants. It was as if the wilted vitality had been injected with a powerful stimulant!

Crack!

The faint electric arc at the tip of the largest shoot, which had been on the verge of extinguishing, snapped loudly and brightened, becoming clear and distinct once more!

Although still faint compared to the main stalk on the cliff, the trend of dying had been forcefully halted.

The shoots began to slowly but firmly absorb a mysterious nourishment from the Black Earth.

They were adapting. They were transforming. They were stubbornly taking root.

“It really works!”

A flash of joy cut through Chen Ping’s cold gaze.

The so-called “harsh conditions” of the outside world—the requirement for lightning-strike rock layers—meant nothing here.

The Black Earth seemed capable of simulating and substituting any environment.

As for the monthly heavenly lightning tempering required for them to mature?

Perhaps this space has its own rules for that, too.

Chen Ping exited the space, taking one last look in the direction of Falling Thunder Cliff.

He didn’t linger. He turned and melted into the shadows of the dense forest, continuing his march toward Lingyun Peak.