In that case, there are at most only about twenty nights of full moon in a year.

－－－－－－－－For those beings who wish to defy the heavens and cultivate, they only need to spend twenty nights a year cultivating... To be honest, to go against the heavens and achieve enlightenment is just too easy, too effortless!

Therefore, rather than saying they absorb the moonlight to cultivate on full moon nights, strictly speaking, it is actually a process of tempering.

Cultivation actually takes place every day, while the moonlight on full moon nights is like a hammer to steel, used to refine and purify the impurities from the inner elixir they have cultivated.

In other words, for cultivators/demons, moonlight is not actually some kind of tonic. Cultivators/demons only dare to expose the inner elixir they have cultivated to the moonlight, and even then, only for a short time before they must take it back in to nourish it. They would never dare to incorporate moonlight directly into their own cultivation cycle.

***

A quick note about updates: This week, since the book has just been uploaded, there will only be one update. Starting next Monday, when the book is competing in the rankings, there will be two updates per day, each with 3,000 words. Just like the previous book, there will be extra chapters for weekly ranking pushes and to thank alliance leaders. Thank you all for your support!

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Chapter 4: A Handsome Young Man Comes from Afar

However, if Jason Allen's current state were to be seen by a cultivator/demon, it would surely terrify them, because to put it precisely, he is now just like someone smoking, inhaling the moonlight into his body and then expelling impurities from within. The moonlight, like blood, circulates directly inside his body!!

In their understanding, such cultivation would either result in instant death, or a single session would be worth a hundred years of bitter training!

But for other cultivators/demons, the risks of doing this are extremely terrifying! Not to mention doing what Jason Allen is doing—even if, when absorbing the inner elixir, a trace of moonlight accidentally enters the body, one could be assimilated by the vast will and realm of heaven and earth, vanishing with the wind, a fate known as "moon transformation."

Because this situation is not uncommon during cultivation, there is a poem circulating among cultivators to comfort those who fall into such a state of qi deviation:

Do not grieve for moon transformation,

Sing a long song with generosity,

Why fear death?

Entrust your body to the mountains.

Of course, Jason Allen is completely unaware of all these entanglements behind the scenes. At this moment, he is in a state between sleepwalking and semi-consciousness, only feeling as if he is bathing in the moonlight, incomparably comfortable and at ease. It feels as if he is soaking in a cool, clear stream, with every pore in his body opening up, the clear water seeping in and flushing out all the impurities and filth.

Gradually, Jason Allen began to feel that there were too many people nearby. With more people, the turbid air rises, making him feel uncomfortable, so he instinctively chose to move toward a place with fewer people.

This is actually quite normal. Most cultivators hide deep in the mountains and forests. When have you ever heard of a master cultivating and attaining immortality on Zhuque Avenue in Chang'an or at the Great Xiangguo Temple in Tokyo? Those so-called great hermits hidden in the world mostly harbor ambitions for wealth and glory, while those truly content to live in seclusion in the mountains are the ones who have truly seen through the vanity of the world.

At this moment, Jason Allen seemed to have merged with the moonlight, almost like a wandering spirit, walking without making a sound. Plus, with the Lin family hosting a banquet today, all the servants and guards were snoring drunkenly, so Jason Allen was able to slip out silently and make his way straight to the abandoned garden of the The Sullivan Family two streets away.

It is said that this place has been haunted for the past ten years. As soon as night falls, no one dares to approach, not even the night watchmen, who always take a detour.

After arriving at this sparsely populated place, the sleepwalking Jason Allen just stood dumbly in the center of the abandoned garden, his mind seemingly blank, completely governed by bodily instinct, yet his heart was peaceful and calm, as quiet as a flowing stream.

After about half an hour, the faint purple mist above his head rose to more than twenty zhang, not only almost tangible, but now appearing even more lively and vibrant than before.

At this moment, a hazy figure suddenly appeared on the eaves not far away, accompanied by a drifting, leisurely sound of a flute.

Under the bright moonlight, in the watery moonlit night, the flute music floated ethereally, lingering like a song, truly evoking a dreamlike poetic beauty.

Immediately after, a handsome young man, as if walking from beyond the heavens, slowly appeared. His features seemed favored by the very essence of heaven and earth—exquisite and beautiful, with a noble and elegant bearing that made anyone feel an instant fondness for him. Atop this young man's head was also a surging pillar of purple mist! Even more impressively, his pillar was much thicker and taller than Jason Allen's—fully thirty zhang high!

The handsome youth stood on the eaves, holding a purple jade flute, looking down at the still-dazed Jason Allen below, clapping his hands and smiling:

"Wonderful! It came to me without any effort at all. I, Frank Easton, have searched the three prefectures and sixteen counties around here for a whole year without a clue, yet I never expected you to be hiding right here in this bustling city!"