After crossing over, he has no taboos among the zombies.

Chapter 1383

The crevice in the stone was wider than expected; behind the entrance, which was only wide enough for two people to walk side by side, was a winding passageway leading downwards.

Unidentified fluorescent moss was embedded in the wall, casting a faint green glow at our feet and making our shadows appear to grow longer and shorter.

When your fingertips touch the rock wall, you can feel the fine texture, mixed with the damp, earthy smell, and a very faint trace of spiritual energy—clearly, it's been maintained for many years.

The younger generation of the Long family followed closely, their breathing extremely soft, with only the green light of the fluorescent moss gently shimmering in their pupils.

After walking for about half an incense stick's time, a faint light suddenly appeared ahead.

Qin He deactivated the protective shield, stepped lightly out of the passage, and stopped in his tracks.

Before us lies a small basin hidden deep within a canyon. The colorful light of the stars leaks down from the gap at the top of the canyon, spreading out like torn ribbons of color, coating the entire land with a flowing, radiant glow.

Here, the sun and moon are nowhere to be seen, only stars and the aurora borealis, which is truly extraordinary.

Purple light threads wrapped around the wheat ears, giving the golden awns a pale purple glow.

A crimson streak swept across the ground, leaving a fleeting warm mark on the soil.

In the center of the basin was a neat wheat field, the ears of wheat so full that they bent the stalks. Each grain of wheat had absorbed the starlight, and when it swayed gently in the night breeze, it shimmered with tiny golden light, like scattered diamonds.

Beside the haystack, several men in coarse cloth jackets sat cross-legged, their knees bent, their hands forming a simple "star-gathering mudra," palms facing upwards towards the night sky.

Tiny specks of starlight fell from above, seeping into their brows along their fingertips. Each person wore a peaceful expression, and even their breathing was in sync with the rhythm of the flowing starlight.

Their trouser legs were covered in fresh mud, their bare arms were calloused, and their knuckles had thick calluses from years of holding hoes. Yet, no one could ignore the spiritual energy fluctuations flowing around them—they were all beginners at the Sea of ​​Wheels Realm. Their strength was not high, but their foundation was astonishingly solid.

At the edge of the field, an old woman with blue wildflowers tucked in her temple was adding grain to a stone mill. With a slight flick of her wrist, the grain fell evenly into the millstone, filling it just right.

The millstone made a steady, even sound as it turned. Faint spiritual energy patterns were engraved on the edge of the millstone. When the old woman bent over, the wildflowers in her hair trembled slightly. The moment her fingertips traced the patterns on the millstone, a wisp of gentle spiritual energy silently seeped in, making the millstone turn even more smoothly and producing a fine grain powder without a single particle.

Not far away, a little girl with pigtails ran over carrying a ceramic bowl filled with cool spring water. The old woman took the bowl, drank a sip, smiled, patted the girl's head, and used the spiritual power at her fingertips to tidy up the girl's messy hair.

The strangest thing was that on the cliff of the canyon, several teenagers were climbing on the protruding rocks. They had thick hemp ropes tied around their waists and their feet were placed in the depressions of the rocks. Their movements were as agile as monkeys.

Wild fruits they had picked hung from the rock face, strung together with vines and dangling down, casting colorful shadows in the aurora.

The entire village has no carved beams or painted rafters, only low houses built of rammed earth, with roofs covered with dried thatch, and the smoke rising from the chimneys is shrouded in a faint spiritual aura.

Here, there is neither the aloofness and arrogance of outside cultivators nor the weariness and vicissitudes of ordinary farmers; everyone exudes a sense of carefree cultivation amidst the everyday life.

"This place..."

Qin He raised an eyebrow slightly, his fingertips unconsciously touching the black demon banner in his sleeve.

The aurora's fluctuations were particularly intense here, even weakening his spiritual senses somewhat.

Long Mingyuan stepped forward, looked at the wheat field, and said with emotion, "This is actually the ancestral home of the Long family."

“A thousand years ago, the Long family was still a member of this family.” Long Mingyuan walked to the foot of the cliff, raised his hand and touched the blurry carving, his fingertips could feel the outline of the dragon pattern.

"This was made by the first patriarch at the peak of the Dao Palace Realm. Back then, he relied on the power of the aurora in this canyon to break through to the Other Shore Realm. Later, the family grew and moved to Yunlai, but never lost contact. Every ten years, they would send family members to find relatives and pay homage to their ancestors. The last one to come was Qingyao. At that time, she was still young and chased the rabbits in the village for half a mountain."

As soon as he finished speaking, steady footsteps echoed from the entrance of the village.

Three figures walked out from the path between the low houses. The one in the lead was an old man with white hair and beard, wearing a faded coarse cloth long gown with a patch sewn on the collar, but it was starched clean.

He held a jujube wood cane in his hand, the head of which was carved with a small dragon, and a polished blue stone was inlaid in the dragon's eye.

The old man walked steadily, each step landing precisely on the points where the aurora flowed. Although his spiritual energy was not released outwards, it was integrated with the aura of heaven and earth.

Behind him followed a middle-aged couple. The man carried a hoe, the blade still covered in fresh mud. He had broad shoulders and beads of sweat on his forehead. The woman carried a bamboo basket filled with freshly picked hawthorns. Grass clung to her skirt, and her face was flushed from her work.

The spiritual energy fluctuations emanating from the three individuals were quite obvious; they were all at the Dao Palace Realm, yet they concealed it extremely well. Without closer inspection, they would simply be mistaken for ordinary village elders.

"Guests are always welcome. May I ask where you all come from?" the old man said in a loud voice. His gaze paused slightly when it swept over Qin He, but he did not ask any further questions.

Long Qingyao stepped forward, her eyes slightly red, and called out in a clear voice, "Grandpa Long, Uncle, Aunt Long."

The old man was taken aback at first, then squinted and scrutinized her for a few seconds. Suddenly, he slammed his cane on the ground, his cloudy eyes lit up, and his face broke into a wide smile: "It's Qingyao! You've grown so tall. Last time you came, you followed your father around asking for candy and chased after my old hen, knocking over the henhouse."

He stepped forward, raising his hand to touch Yao's head, but then remembered she was already a young girl, so he patted her shoulder instead, "You've lost so much weight, did you suffer on the way?"

The middle-aged woman hurried forward, grabbed Long Qingyao's hand, and examined it closely. Her fingertips traced the abrasions on Qingyao's wrist, and her brows immediately furrowed. "How did you get so thin, girl? And you're injured?" She took a red fruit from her bamboo basket and placed it in Qingyao's hand. "This is a Star Spirit Fruit from the mountaintop. It can replenish your qi and blood. Eat it quickly. Where are your parents? They said they would bring you to pick wild tea last time they came."

Long Qingyao bit her lip, her eyes reddening even more, her voice choked with sobs: "Father and Mother... are gone. The Long family suffered a calamity, and it was Senior Qin who saved us. We really have nowhere to go, so we thought we'd come to our ancestral home to avoid trouble for a while. We won't cause any trouble for the village."

She stepped aside to let Qin He pass and said respectfully, "This is Senior Qin, whose cultivation is profound. If it weren't for him, we probably wouldn't have made it this far."

Qin He stood still, the demonic energy at his fingertips slightly receding. When his gaze swept over the three people, he caught a fleeting look of surprise in their eyes—clearly they had noticed something, but showed no sign of rejection.

The old man looked at Qin He with a scrutinizing gaze, but still cupped his hands and said, "Thank you for your help, Senior Qin. Since you were brought by Qingyao, you are my guest."

He waved his hand and pointed to a row of empty low houses on the east side of the village: "Those houses are reserved for clansmen who have returned from elsewhere. They are cleaned all year round, but they have been uninhabited for a long time. The thatched roofs need to be replaced with new ones, and the doors and windows need to be repaired. If you need any tools or wood, just tell me. The young men in the village are strong and will come to help as soon as you call."

The old man paused for a moment, then said, “The well water in the village is a spiritual spring; drinking it can nourish your spiritual power. There are potatoes and sweet potatoes stored in the cellar behind the house to last through the winter, and there is dried firewood in the kitchen. You can settle down here with peace of mind.”

The man put down his hoe and laughed heartily, "Dinner will be ready soon. Go inside and rest. I'll have the kids fetch two buckets of spring water."

Qin He nodded without saying anything more.

He looked at the peaceful scene in the village: the men by the haystacks put away their hand seals, got up, stretched, and began to gather up the scattered wheat stalks.

The old woman led the little girl by the hand toward the low house, carrying half a bag of ground grain flour in her hand; the children on the cliff also came down the rock, their pockets full of wild fruit, and ran noisily toward the kitchen.

The smoke rising from the chimneys of the distant low houses, carrying a faint ethereal quality, intertwined with the aurora borealis, creating a warm and inviting scene.

The black demon banner in his sleeve was slightly warm, and Long Qingyun's soul trembled gently inside, without making a sound. Qin He could feel that the trembling no longer contained resentment, but instead contained a complex warmth—perhaps the warmth of this ancestral land had also touched this fallen half-saint.

Judging from the timeline, this guy must have grown up here as a child.