Exploring Immortality Cultivation-Chapter 151 - 113 Jiongli

Motion sickness, scientifically known as kinetosis, mainly arises from an overly intense reaction of the vestibular apparatus in the inner ear, which perceives the body’s state of motion when shaken by vehicles such as cars. The severity of motion sickness varies from person to person based on the sensitivity of their vestibular apparatus and their tolerance to its signals.

On Earth, the qualities required of a pilot include having a sensitive vestibular apparatus yet strong tolerance. Unfortunately, Wang Qi belonged to the group of individuals with exceptionally sensitive vestibular apparatuses but absolutely no tolerance. Tolerance can be enhanced through training, but given that a Cultivator’s perception of their Physical Body only grows with their Cultivation—Wang Qi sadly discovered that he would never escape motion sickness in this lifetime.

As they were about to arrive at Jiongli, Mao Zimiao found Wang Qi curled up into a ball at the edge of the deck. At the moment, Wang Qi had lost all his studious and domineering aura, looking as if he had overly immersed himself in the study of the reproduction of life beings, unable to even stand steadily. His face was as pale as gold foil, his eyes tightly closed, leaning weakly against the ship’s rails.

The half-demon girl was half sympathetic, half amused. She had never expected that Wang Qi, who usually presented himself with the image of the Immortal Institute’s bully, would have such a ragged moment. The girl’s maternal instincts were kindled as she went to support Wang Qi, asking, "Xiao Qi, how are you doing?"

Wang Qi barely managed to wave his hand at Mao Zimiao. With her right hand, Mao Zimiao supported Wang Qi, while with her freed left hand, she lightly touched the ship’s rails. A Rune on the handrail flashed, and a portion of the Wind-Resisting Talisman, which served as a windscreen, was deactivated, letting the bone-chilling high-altitude wind mixed with spray hit Wang Qi’s face.

"Some fresh air might make you feel better, meow!"

Before Mao Zimiao had finished speaking, she felt Wang Qi, whom she was supporting, struggling to walk ahead a few steps. Wang Qi leaned over the rails and retched painfully. However, there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, and not having mastered the Divine Skills of Virtual Creation, he could only spit out a few strands of foul-smelling saliva.

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"Azimiao... I’m almost asleep, meow... let me be..."

"Stop imitating human speech, meow!" the girl chided, "Besides, we’re about to arrive, so you can’t sleep now, meow!"

"If you would say that to me at night, I would be very happy... blegh... blegh..."

Mao Zimiao, resigned, put her hands on her hips and said, "Xiao Qi, it’s very inconsiderate of you to vomit outside like this, meow. What if it splashes onto other people, huh?"

"From Xin Mountain to Jiongli, we have to pass two large lakes, three protected areas, and one inner sea. The probability that I cause a passerby to be doused with celestial filth is too low," he reasoned.

The half-demon girl pointed outside the ship: "Here we are at Jiongli, meow. We’ve arrived!"

Wang Qi, his vision blurred from vomiting, had long stopped caring about where the Spirit Boat was. Only after hearing Mao Zimiao’s words did he gather his strength to look around.

Below the Spirit Boat was a layer of gauzy mist, and through it, Wang Qi could dimly see the reflections of something changing below. At first, Wang Qi thought it was a lake beneath them. But as the Spirit Boat descended, he realized it was a region where mountains and water intermingled, with water between the mountains and hills reflecting on the surface. The river networks here had gentle currents, allowing people on the Spirit Boat to see the reflections on the water surface. The hills were not tall but took on strange shapes. Between them were flying ramps, with occasional man-made structures sprinkled on the hills which blended harmoniously with the natural scenery.

Jiongli, a land where the mountains and waters were second to none.

"Jiongli’s landscape is the best in the world, meow. There must be a lot of visitors!" Mao Zimiao wanted to say something more, but Wang Qi’s mind had already soared to land, and he wasn’t listening at all.

Soon enough, the Spirit Boat docked on a water surface. Mao Zimiao supported Wang Qi, who was now woozy from vomiting, off the boat.

As soon as his feet touched solid ground, Wang Qi felt much better in spirit. He took deep breaths and looked around: "Where did Ai Qinglan disappear to? She said she’d keep an eye on me; I’m about to vomit to death and could use a dose of medicine right now, yet she’s nowhere in sight."

Forget it... This genius with the strange thinking patterns probably only planned to watch over him for a short while after all.

Mao Zimiao, having been greatly helped by Ai Qinglan, defended her, "Senior Sister Ai also has to continue her Cultivation, meow!"

Leaning against the warehouse walls at the dock, Wang Qi jumped a couple of times. Then Yunxiang, an instructor from the Xinyue Immortal Institute, flew out and announced dismissal, allowing new disciples to explore freely and then meet at the entrance of the main hall of the Jiongli Branch in the evening.

All the new disciples scattered in all directions. Wang Qi couldn’t bring himself to move and just wanted to wait for a few familiar faces to take him to his destination. But as he waited and waited, there was no one in sight; it was like everyone had forgotten about him.

"Wu Fan that bastard... has he really gone off to show off?" Wang Qi looked around, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Actually, Wu Fan did want to come and find him. But out of his sight, a silver-haired, dog-eared girl was pulling away a boy who was barely noticeable, all the while sporting a mischievous grin on her face.

By the way, it was Zhen Chan who had seen this scene through his Spiritual Sense. It’s just that recently, the increasingly unprincipled Mahayana Cultivator didn’t speak up because of some sort of malicious pleasure.

Mao Zimiao also looked around in confusion: "I have no idea where Qiqi and the others have gone."

"Friendship mishaps... misplaced trust..." Wang Qi muttered to himself continuously. Mao Zimiao glanced at him and said with a playful grin, "Xiao Qi, just say you don’t have many friends, meow!"

"My harem is not small at all!"

In fact, Mao Zimiao would also be a good choice. Cultivators naturally have more strength than mortals, and Mao Zimiao, being a half-demon, could carry three Wang Qis without turning red or gasping for air, even across three mountains. But while Mao Zimiao’s ability was one thing, Wang Qi’s pride was another. Having a cute girl carrying or supporting him through the streets...

Wang Qi imagined himself being princess-carried by a cat-eared girl through the crowded streets, drawing countless curious glances, and he shuddered at the thought.

The half-demon girl didn’t know what Wang Qi was thinking, but she didn’t have similar thoughts. She assisted Wang Qi, asking with concern, "How are you feeling now?"

"Nauseous, legs are weak."

Mao Zimiao looked around and noticed a porridge stall at the harbor, suggesting, "How about some rice soup, meow?"

The half-demon girl, hailing from the West Sea coast, was not familiar with the term "porridge." There, thick and sticky rice dishes were all called "soup," and people liked to say "eat soup."

Wang Qi, too, wanted to find a place to rest for a while, so he nodded in agreement.

Porridge stalls are common sights in the inland southeast of Shenzhou, often consisting of a felt blanket supported by ropes to form a canopy, with tables placed underneath, while the stall owner tends to several cotton-wrapped wooden barrels. The people of the southeast have a preference for porridge, making such stalls quite common.

Unlike wealthy Xinyue, which only allows Cultivators with purchasing power to enter the city, Jiongli City is home to many ordinary people making a living. Most of the patrons eating at such stalls are mortals. Seeing a young man and woman, who clearly looked like Cultivators, enter the stall, the owner didn’t dare to slack off and quickly cleared a table for them.

Mao Zimiao ordered two servings of the stall’s signature dish, gave one to Wang Qi, and herself began to sip hers delicately. Wang Qi barely took a couple of bites before setting down his bowl, stirring the porridge with his chopsticks.

The cat-eared girl was a bit worried: "What’s wrong? Are you still feeling nauseous, meow?"

Wang Qi gave a profoundly tragic look at the bowl of Green Fish Porridge in front of him: "I have a sweet tooth! Porridge that can’t be mixed with sugar doesn’t count as porridge to me!"

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