The Rich Cultivator-Chapter 408. Ling Tian, Han Bing

Many years ago, five individuals from the Zi World—Tyler, Priscilla, Yu Meixue, Lan Xuero, and Lan Yi—found themselves transported into the Boundless World through a mysterious phenomenon in the Lower Worlds known as Cultivation CC.

They were not the only ones who crossed over.

Other cultivators from the Zi World also ascended: Ling Tian, Yumina, Ella, and an elder from a renowned sect, Fairy Ember Fox. Each of them was chosen for a reason, pulled into the Boundless World as if guided by fate.

Unlike Tyler, who lost all his cultivation and had to begin anew from scratch, the others adopted an advanced technique known as the Energy Conversion Art—a risky but effective process that allowed them to convert their Spiritual Energy into Aura or Prana, the dominant energy types of the Boundless World.

However, it came with limitations. Those who converted their energy could not use both systems simultaneously. The only path to dual cultivation was to cripple themselves entirely and start over.

Far out in the vast ocean of the Boundless World, on a remote flying island.

Ling Tian sat quietly inside a simple wooden hut. The air outside smelled of salt and mist, while within the hut, a light fragrance of tea lingered.

He was lost in thought.

His journey since arriving in this world had been anything but easy. Alongside his childhood friends, he had ventured across Islands, faced countless dangers, and overcome seemingly impossible odds.

Despite the hardships, Ling Tian had forged a name for himself. He was the youngest Grandmaster the Boundless World had seen—achieving a level of power and mastery.

He is even younger than Tyler.

In the Southern Seas, he had obtained part of the legendary Kun Peng Inheritance, the "Peng" half, which had awakened extraordinary abilities within him.

He had even formed a small but elite adventure group called the Twilight Seekers, a band of misfits and dreamers who journeyed through ruin and storm in pursuit of Eternity.

But now, he was alone.

A tragic accident had separated him from his team. Injured and adrift, Ling Tian had found refuge in a sect called the Star Reflection Ocean Sect. With nowhere else to go, and unable to continue his journey, he had accepted the sect’s offer of sanctuary.

To repay their kindness, Ling Tian had agreed to a strange and vital task: he was to inject both Wind and Fire Aura into a powerful garden array designed to nurture a unique and sacred plant—the Typhoon Pyreflower, a mystical hybrid that bloomed with flames and roared with eternal winds.

However, peace within the sect was an illusion.

Trouble was brewing. A crisis loomed on the horizon, and the sect was on high alert.

Ling Tian glanced across the room.

Opposite him sat a woman.

She did not belong to the Star Reflection Ocean Sect.

She was no disciple, no elder, and certainly not someone ordinary. Her presence was suffocating, her Prana coiling around her like a dormant storm. Ling Tian had no doubts—if he made a wrong move, she could kill him with a flick of her finger.

Her name was Han Bing.

She is like a Ghost, No one knows that she is here. Han Bing who could enter and leave the sect at will, she feared no one—not even the mysterious Sect Master of the Star Reflection Ocean Sect. Her strength was beyond anything Ling Tian had ever seen before.

He was nervous, cautious, and respectful.

As she sipped from a porcelain teacup, her eyes remained half-lidded, scanning him as though weighing the worth of his soul.

Ling Tian chose his words carefully. "It’s said that the Star Reflection Ocean Sect was built by the Sect Master single-handedly. The sect rose to prominence, thanks to her power."

Han Bing raised a brow slightly, the corner of her lip curling. "And?"

Her voice was smooth, laced with curiosity and sarcasm.

Ling Tian hesitated. "If the Sect Master is still alive, she should be able to turn the tide and protect the sect."

"Still alive?" Han Bing chuckled, but her gaze sharpened. "That’s an interesting way to phrase it. You don’t sound convinced."

He averted his gaze and tried to compose himself.

"To be honest... I don’t really know. I’m only guessing based on what little I’ve heard."

Han Bing gestured toward the teapot. "Brew me some good tea while you talk."

Ling Tian nodded and got to work. After some fumbling, he finally brewed a pot using the expensive Old Spice Tea he had purchased for 100 Lydia per packet. The aroma was fragrant, if not particularly rare.

She sniffed the tea, unimpressed.

"Where’s the Northern Spring Tea?" she asked, her tone mildly disappointed.

Ling Tian coughed lightly. "That tea costs 100,000 Lydia per kilo, Senior... and it’s extremely hard to find. This Old Spice is a famous blend from the Southern Provinces."

Han Bing didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she leaned back and asked, "Tell me more about the Sect Master."

Ling Tian poured the tea and sat down again. "I don’t know much. The Sect Master hasn’t appeared in nearly one hundred and eighty years. Back then, she stormed through nearby islands, crushing rival sects and building this place from nothing. Once the foundation was laid, she went into seclusion."

He paused, watching Han Bing’s expression.

"She’s been in seclusion ever since," he continued. "People go into closed-door cultivation either to break through to a higher realm or to heal from grave injuries. If she was trying to ascend, a hundred and eighty years is too long. It might mean she failed. If she was injured... maybe she never recovered."

"So, when you say she’s ’still alive’..." Han Bing smiled. "You’re holding onto hope."

"I—" Ling Tian struggled to explain. "I just thought... maybe the Acting Sect Leader says the Sect Master is still alive to keep morale up. If people believe a strong figure is backing them, they’ll stay loyal and less fearful."

Han Bing’s eyes glinted. "Smart boy. And now that even the Acting Sect Leader might fall, what’s your plan?"

Ling Tian looked down at his hands. "Whether I live or die doesn’t matter to me. I’m more concerned about the Typhoon Pyreflower."

He turned his gaze to the garden beyond the hut’s window. There, in a shimmering array, a miraculous flower stood—its petals burning with a flame that needed no fuel, stirred constantly by an eternal, unseen wind.

Actually Han Bing is here because she has eyes on Pyreflower. She is waiting for it to bloom.

Han Bing followed his gaze. "The Pyreflower. That’s what you’re worried about?"

"I’ve spent months nurturing it," Ling Tian replied quietly. "It can’t be moved. If the sect falls, the flower might wither—or worse, be destroyed by invaders."

A faint smirk tugged at Han Bing’s lips. "So you are asking me to protect it."

Ling Tian’s face flushed. "Senior, please don’t misunderstand. The fate of the sect has nothing to do with you. I wouldn’t dare ask such a thing. I only... hope the flower survives. It’s too precious to be lost."

Han Bing watched him closely.

Her expression was unreadable. Her body was still, her fingers gently brushing the rim of her cup.

Then she said, "I can help you."

Ling Tian’s heart leapt.

"But," she added, "I will require something in return."

He swallowed but said nothing.

Han Bing finished her tea and stood, leaving the hut in silence.

Only after she was gone did Ling Tian exhale, realizing he had been holding his breath the whole time.

He glanced down at the silver locket around his neck. Hanging from it were two tiny trinkets: a miniature gauntlet and a small hammer. Each one represented a promise, a memory, and a friend waiting somewhere out in the vast Boundless World.

Yumina’s weapons are Gauntlets.

Ella’s weapon is Hammer.

Ling Tian smiled faintly, the weight of solitude slightly lifted by the thought of reunion in future.

---

After leaving Ling Tian’s hut, Han Bing disappeared into thin air and reappeared at the tallest peak of the Flying Island. Shrouded in thick clouds, this peak housed a hidden castle—an ancient place sealed off from the rest of the sect. Only one person aside from the true Sect Master had ever been allowed to enter: the Acting Sect Master.

As Han Bing stepped through the barrier, the Acting Sect Master stood waiting, her posture respectful and eyes lowered.

"Welcome, Sect Master," she said softly, bowing her head. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Han Bing gave a faint nod. "Yeah... Don’t worry. If things go bad, I’ll intervene."

The Acting Sect Master visibly relaxed, relief washing over her face. She bowed once more before quietly turning to leave.

As the doors shut behind her, Han Bing chuckled to herself. "Heh... I even made that boy owe me a favor just to save my own sect."

Her laughter, tinged with mockery, faded into silence—only to be broken by a harsh, sudden cough.

"Cough... cough"

She raised her hand, and her eyes narrowed at the sight of fresh blood staining her pale fingers.

"Injured for one hundred and eighty years, huh..." she muttered with a bitter smile, wiping the blood away.

With slow, deliberate steps, she moved deeper into the castle, her presence both ethereal and commanding. As the heavy doors creaked shut behind her, the winds howled outside—but inside, all fell into an eerie calm.