Chapter 341: Vacation End and Returning
And so, with Shui Xinxue now quietly walking beside him, Dave’s journey resumed—no longer with just three, but now four extraordinary women traveling in step with him.
From the gleaming, frost-covered spires of Tianshui, the group ventured outward into the sweeping expanse of the Four Elemental Cities, drifting between lands that shimmered with the very breath of the elements. Each city, every trail they crossed, brought its own flavor—its own challenges, colors, and stories.
They didn’t travel as conquerors or nobles, yet they were never ignored.
Their first destination after leaving Tianshui wasn’t far—it was the serene coastal haven of Bluewave Port, nestled beside the glittering curve of the sea.
The port city thrived with a peaceful rhythm. Fishermen sang morning prayers to sea spirits, and deep-sea soul beasts were auctioned openly beneath tents dyed in bright silks. The group arrived just as the tide rolled in, the sea breeze carrying salt and freshness—an instant balm to the soul.
Shui Xinxue, cold and composed as ever, seemed oddly in harmony here. Often, she walked alone along the water’s edge, letting her robe brush the damp sand, her silver hair tangled in the wind. She rarely spoke—but she lingered near Dave longer each day, as if the sea air loosened something within.
Dugu Yan, ever the spirited flame, thrived in the port’s bustling energy. She dove into harbor sparring tournaments, fusing her poison with ocean salt to invent techniques that even the most experienced Spirit Sages struggled to counter. Crimson silks and fire-wine became her uniform. Her laughter echoed off every stone wall by sunset.
Dave had his own adventures. Nearly challenged to a duel by a local sea maiden who scoffed at his calm aura, he declined with a grin—and won the town over not with his fists, but with food. A single spirit-herb stew brought even grizzled elders to tears and earned him the quiet nickname: "Soulfire Chef."
From Bluewave, the group made their way inland to the lush and gently swaying hills of Starleaf Valley.
A region famed for soul herbs and rare medicinal plants, Starleaf Valley was a place of rest and quiet cultivation. Here, Meilin felt most alive. She disappeared into the forests daily, returning with exotic mushrooms, spirit fruits, and even a fox-eagle cub that began trailing the group wherever they went.
Dave spent his time refining potions and testing new dishes using freshly gathered ingredients. Their evenings became a ritual—gathering around a gentle fire, the wind chimes swaying above them, sharing food, stories, and the kind of peace none of them ever thought they’d have.
Next, they moved north—toward the Coldmist Peaks.
These snow-capped mountains, ever cloaked in silence, were home to hermits, frost cultivators, and wandering souls seeking solitude or penance. Few dared to enter unless searching for enlightenment... or punishment.
But for Signora, this place felt like home.
She glided across frozen lakes, challenged wandering wind spirits, and even halted an avalanche mid-fall, just to admire the suspended stillness. Within days, the mountain clans whispered her new name: "The Snow Phoenix."
Shui Xinxue, too, was quieter than usual. The snow reflected more than just light—it reflected memory. Something shifted in her. She didn’t speak of it. But one night, she sat beside Dave and unknowingly reached for his hand. She didn’t pull away. Neither did he.
After descending the peaks, their journey took them to Blackiron Ridge—a harsh, windswept land famed for its deep metal veins and its spirit-tool forgers.
And here, it was Dave’s time to shine.
In open furnaces and loud forges, he joined the metalworkers, hammering glowing spirit steel with his bare hands and refined spirit flame. Watching him shape alloys into elegant tools and blades, even the toughest forge-masters gave quiet nods of respect. "This one could start a sect with just a hammer," one of them muttered.
Signora teased him endlessly after that, calling him "The Spirit Chef and Smith," while Dugu Yan suggested he forge a wedding ring large enough to fit all four of them at once. Dave choked on his tea. Meilin merely giggled as she bartered for magical gemstones and weapon cores. Xinxue said little—but she watched his fire, always thoughtful. It was a fire that forged, not destroyed.
Finally, before taking time to rest again, they arrived at Moonshadow Lake.
A sacred lake said to reflect only the moon—and nothing else. Here, under the glow of the full moon, certain rare spirit beasts would surface, lured by its stillness. The group camped by the lake in silence, no battles, no loud joy—only reverence.
Xinxue sat beside Dave, her eyes locked on the lake.
"I think I understand now... not everything needs purpose. Some things just... feel right."
Dave didn’t answer with words. He poured her tea instead. And she took it, hands steady.
After a quiet rest, the group moved toward a more mysterious domain.
They entered the hidden realm of Misty Ridge—a forest blanketed in spiritual fog, nestled between Star Dou Great Forest and several neutral cultivation zones. It wasn’t marked on any map. Only those who felt their way through could reach it. The fog was said to carry memories—of battles, of loss, of things once forgotten.
Their pace slowed.
Even Meilin, who never stopped talking, became quiet. The mist whispered names and dreams and half-forgotten guilt. Dugu Yan stopped mid-path once, tears at the edge of her eyes, her gaze locked on something only she could see. "I think I saw my grandfather," she murmured.
Shui Xinxue said nothing the entire first day.
But that night, Dave found her kneeling beneath a spirit tree. Her fingers brushed the mist as if waiting for a memory to return. When she looked up at him, her voice was low and uncertain. "This place doesn’t show me anything. I think I buried everything too deep."
Dave didn’t try to fix it. He knelt beside her and said, "Then maybe it’s time to start creating new memories."
She didn’t answer—but when she stood up, she took his hand. And she didn’t let go until the mist began to fade.
As they left Misty Ridge behind, the landscape began to change once more.
The hills turned to ridges. The air lost its fog and grew dry. And the people—those they passed along the road—wore more scars and watched strangers with cautious eyes. The group had entered the Western Borderlands, a rough land of rogue spirit masters, outlaw sects, and wild soul beast trade.
Here, Signora became herself again.
She froze thieves mid-robbery, broke corrupt toll gates, and publicly shamed a Spirit Ancestor who dared enslave a winged soul beast. Her ice was sharp—but her care was genuine. She even crafted small ice toys for village children and left frost roses on graves that looked too forgotten.
Dave, too, found his rhythm. He treated a sick spirit wolf with a unique blend of crushed root and flame-forged mist, and the locals called him "doctor" for a week.
Dugu Yan, ever blunt, muttered, "Walking sect poster boy." Meilin defended him—though mostly for the steamed buns he handed her every morning.
And Shui Xinxue? She watched it all unfold—quiet, graceful, unreadable.
Not because she didn’t care.
But because she was still learning.
Not about the world.
But about the people she now chose to walk beside.
*******
if you like my fanfic, and want to support me and read advance chaps, checkout my fanfic on Patreon :-
There are regular updates too.
***