Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 290: Boarding the Spirit Boat

Qin Lu didn’t linger in Shuntian City. After a single night of rest at the inn, he departed at dawn, flying eastward toward the transport hub.

The spirit boat dock was located only a few dozen miles from the city gates.

A year ago, during a moment of idle curiosity, Qin Lu had observed it from a distance. But standing before it now, up close, the sheer scale of the operation was awe-inspiring.

The dock was built atop a massive mountain peak that looked as though a giant sword had sheared it off at the waist, creating a perfectly flat plateau three miles wide.

At the edge of the cliffs, several colossal wooden ships hovered in the air, defying gravity.

Each vessel was over 70 zhang long—veritable floating mountains carved from ancient, ironwood timber. Their hulls were etched with glowing runes, giving them an air of ancient, majestic power.

“It seems business is good,” Qin Lu murmured, observing the constant stream of cultivators flowing toward the ships.

He descended slowly, landing on the dock’s pristine white jade pavement.

The plaza was crowded with travelers of all descriptions, forming long, snaking queues that corresponded to different destinations.

Qin Lu paused, momentarily stumped. There were no clear signs indicating which ship was bound for where. Boarding the wrong vessel would be a costly mistake.

After a moment’s thought, he stepped forward and tapped the shoulder of the man at the end of the nearest line.

“Fellow Daoist, might I disturb you for a moment?”

The man turned around. He looked to be in his thirties, with a rugged, unshaven face and a lazy, slouching posture. He wore a wide bamboo hat and carried a wine gourd and a short saber at his waist—the very picture of a wandering rogue cultivator.

He looked Qin Lu up and down before grinning, revealing a row of surprisingly white teeth.

“What’s up, brother?”

“I was wondering,” Qin Lu asked politely, “which of these ships is headed for Qinghua City?”

The bamboo-hatted man laughed heartily and pointed at his own feet. “You’re in luck! It’s the one I’m queuing for!”

“Oh?” Qin Lu’s eyes lit up. He naturally stepped into line behind the man. “That is perfect. Thank you.”

“Hehe, no problem.” The man leaned in, his tone friendly. “I see your spiritual aura is overflowing, brother. Late Foundation Establishment, right? And yet you’ve never taken the Shuntian Spirit Boats before?”

“Ah, I’m ashamed to admit it, but this is indeed my first time,” Qin Lu replied with a self-deprecating smile.

“Haha! Well, stick with me then. I’m also headed to Qinghua City. We can travel together. The name’s Liu Sangeng, but everyone calls me Old San.”

“I am Qin Lu, from Flowing Cloud Prefecture.”

“Nice to meet you, Brother Qin!”

Liu Sangeng was a boisterous, talkative soul. He launched into a vivid description of Qinghua City, sharing stories of its wonders and dangers with enthusiastic hand gestures. His rugged charm and easygoing nature made him instantly likable.

Chatting idly, the pair moved up the line until they reached the boarding ramp.

A small registration desk was set up at the entrance, manned by a young Qi Condensation disciple.

“Greetings, Seniors,” the disciple said respectfully. “A seat in the common hall is ten Spirit Stones. Private cabins start at thirty. Which would you prefer?”

Liu Sangeng waved a hand expansively. “Two of your best guest cabins.”

“Understood. That will be one hundred Low Grade Spirit Stones in total.”

Before Qin Lu could react, Liu Sangeng had already slapped a pouch of stones onto the desk.

“Brother Liu!” Qin Lu protested. “How can I let you pay for me?”

“Bah! It’s just a few stones. Pocket change!” Liu Sangeng waved him off, physically blocking Qin Lu from reaching for his own funds. “Don’t insult me by counting pennies between friends.”

Seeing the man’s genuine insistence, Qin Lu relented with a smile. “In that case, I thank Brother Liu for his generosity.”

“Here are your access tokens, Seniors,” the disciple said, handing over two deep red jade plaques. “Simply place the token against the door array to enter.”

Qin Lu took his token. Engraved on the surface were the characters: Jia-Seven.

“Let’s go, Brother Qin.”

Liu Sangeng glanced at his own token and strode up the ramp with the confidence of a veteran traveler. Qin Lu followed close behind.

Stepping through the open hatch, they entered the belly of the spirit boat.

The interior was cavernous. The main deck was a massive circular hall filled with rows of seating, already buzzing with hundreds of cultivators conversing in hushed tones. The perimeter was lined with stalls selling food, wine, and miscellaneous goods, creating a miniature market atmosphere.

In the center stood a small stage, currently empty.

“Impressive,” Qin Lu thought, scanning the crowd. “This vessel can easily carry hundreds of passengers.”

“This way, Brother Qin,” Liu Sangeng called out, leading him away from the crowded common area.

They headed up a flight of stairs toward the upper decks, where the private cabins were located. The noise of the common hall faded, replaced by the quiet hum of protective arrays.

As they walked down the corridor, Qin Lu remarked, “I didn’t expect the fare to be so reasonable. Fifty Spirit Stones for a premium cabin seems like a steal.”

Liu Sangeng let out a bark of laughter. “You’re thinking too simply, Brother Qin. That’s just the fare for the first leg.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“This boat is basically a flying bus,” Liu Sangeng explained. “Sure, the final stop is Qinghua City, but we’ll be docking at over a dozen major cities along the way. If you want to keep the room for the whole trip, you have to pay the fare again at every single stop.”

“I see…” Qin Lu paused to do the math. “Over ten stops… so the total cost is well over five hundred Spirit Stones.”

“Exactly.”

“Tsk. That is indeed a hefty sum for the average cultivator,” Qin Lu nodded. For a Qi Condensation junior, five hundred stones was a fortune.

“Here we are,” Liu Sangeng stopped in front of a door marked Jia-Six. He grinned at Qin Lu. “I’m going to catch up on some sleep. If you need anything, just knock. We can chat later.”

“Sounds good.”

Liu Sangeng pressed his token against the doorframe. A ripple of light shimmered as the defensive formation disengaged, and he stepped inside.

Qin Lu followed suit, unlocking the adjacent room, Jia-Seven, and stepping into his temporary home for the journey ahead.