If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

Back at the Wuying Hall, Zhou Ming briefly handed over to Dongmei the details of the defenses of the imperial palace and the prefectural governor's office, the daily surveillance of Emperor Yongchang, and the house arrest of Su Mubai and a group of veteran officials.

When Dongmei heard that he was going on a long trip, she opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end she just threw the short sword to Zhou Ming.

He raised his head, his tone still arrogant: "If you die out there, no one will collect your body. You'd better take good care of your own life."

After saying that, he turned and left, but he turned and left so fast that he almost tore the curtain off.

Early the next morning, Zhou Ming packed a bag containing a few changes of clothes and some silver.

He rode a northern warhorse led from the Imperial Guard's stable and headed north along the official road.

After traveling for several days, Zhou Ming initially held the reins and swayed slowly, enjoying the scenery along the way.

The northern border is more open than Yuyang County, with endless meadows on both sides of the official road.

The withered grass rippled like waves in the north wind, and occasionally herds of wild horses could be seen galloping across the horizon, their hooves kicking up dust that shone like a long golden dragon in the sunlight.

But after watching for two or three days, the meadow was still a meadow, the wild horses were still wild horses, and even the clouds in the sky didn't bother to change their shape.

Zhou Ming's interest was like the biscuits in the bag of dry rations; the more he ate, the less flavorful they became.

When he arrived at Zhenbei City, the general guarding the city recognized him.

He had worked with the young lady here to reorganize the northern border troops.

Later, he was locked up in a side room of the commander's mansion for a whole day and night. The garrison commanders of Zhenbei City had all heard about these things.

The garrison commander didn't ask him any questions upon seeing him. After sending someone to inform Fan Jianjun, the commander of the northern border, he let him pass.

Zhou Ming handed his warhorse over to the garrison for safekeeping, and carrying only his small pack, walked out of the northern border defense line.

North of Zhenbei City lies a buffer zone between the two kingdoms of Daxia and Dayuan.

There were no farmlands, no villages, only vast stretches of abandoned grasslands and mounds riddled with wind erosion.

Zhou Ming walked on the soft grass for half a day, his steps uneven, before releasing his divine sense to scan the area.

The nearest scouts were also dozens of miles away, squatting in a dry riverbed eating dry rations.

Once Zhou Ming confirmed that no one was paying attention, he stood up abruptly, transforming into an almost imperceptible streak of light, and sped northward along the edge of the clouds.

On the border of the Great Yuan Dynasty, the garrison soldiers leaned against the battlements, idly counting the clouds. The scabbards of the cavalrymen on patrol were worn smooth and shiny. Smoke rose and dissipated from the camp.

Everything seemed unusually calm.

Zhou Ming continued flying north, but what he saw along the way surprised him somewhat.

Even the prefectures and counties of the Great Yuan Dynasty were a scene of peace and prosperity.

As the evening drum sounds and the lanterns are lit, pedestrians come and go in an endless stream on the streets, and the restaurants and teahouses are bustling with noise, while the sounds of string and wind instruments faintly reach the high heavens.

The peace of this dynasty and the country to the south, which was undergoing dramatic changes, seemed to exist in two completely different eras.

Zhou Ming spent most of the night circling in the heart of the Yuan Dynasty, his divine sense sifting through the noisy land beneath his feet.

The causal chain of the "Scripture of Crossing the World" was sensed only in the depths of a few scattered mansions of aristocratic families.

They were few in number, but each one was thick and strong, clearly indicating that powerful clans with more resources and confidence were secretly and cautiously exploring this power.

At midnight, Zhou Ming landed outside a city called Dachuan.

The city is located by the Wuding River, which makes water transportation convenient. There are many schools and a strong literary atmosphere in the city.

Zhou Ming silently landed in the backyard of a study under the cover of night.

My divine sense swept across the front hall, and I saw the bookstore owner reading a book in his study by the light of an oil lamp.

Zhou Ming observed this person's face; he had a shrewd appearance but clear and honest eyes, unlike a cunning person.

Zhou Ming took out a copy of "The Scripture of Crossing the World" and a neat stack of over a thousand taels of silver notes from his bag. He bent down and gently placed the silver notes and the scripture together at the door of the study.

Then he knocked on the door three times with his fingers and silently rose to the roof.

When the shopkeeper heard someone knocking on the door, he put down his books, put on an outer robe, and carefully opened the door with an oil lamp in hand, peeking out his head.

Before he could even see who was outside the door, he stepped on the books and banknotes on the ground, slipped, and almost fell.

Just as he looked down to see what he had stepped on, a slow, deliberate voice came from the roof.

"I'll give you three days to copy this book a thousand times. I'll come back for it in three days."

The shopkeeper looked up sharply toward the source of the sound, but the roof was empty except for a few withered leaves blown by the wind, which swirled and landed on the tiles.

He bent down and picked up the things on the ground, turning them over by the light of the oil lamp.

A book that wasn't very thick, with the words "Scripture for Crossing the World" written on the cover, and a stack of banknotes, each with a large denomination.

He had initially thought it was some martial arts master trying to extort money from him, but now that he saw he could get money, his face lit up with joy.

It's just copying books. A thousand taels of silver can be used to copy a thousand books. Even if you use the best paper and ink, you won't spend half of it. The rest is pure profit.

He quickly flipped through the book and glanced at it to make sure it wasn't anything illegal, then he breathed a sigh of relief.

Zhou Ming used his divine sense to observe the shopkeeper's expression of delight, and knew that the matter was settled.

He found an inconspicuous inn in Dachuan City, asked for a superior room facing the street, brewed a pot of coarse tea, and leaned against the window, drinking tea while continuing to use his divine sense to keep an eye on the movements of the study.

The shopkeeper was truly a talented individual; early the next morning, he recruited dozens of impoverished scholars into the study to begin copying books.

A long table was set up, complete with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, and they began copying with great enthusiasm.

In just two days, the goal of copying a thousand copies was achieved, but he did not tell anyone to stop. Instead, he recruited several more people with good handwriting to continue copying.

This small-time businessman, who wouldn't get up early for nothing, clearly had some long-term plans and wanted to stockpile more goods for other uses.

On the night of the third day, the appointed time arrived.

The shopkeeper was already waiting in the courtyard, with neat stacks of newly copied books piled up beside him, exuding the fresh scent of fresh ink.

Zhou Ming landed silently on the roof, casually casting a mist spell, and a thin mist flowed down the eaves.

Zhou Ming's figure was shrouded in a hazy gray-white light.

Standing in the fog, Zhou Ming asked knowingly, "Three days have passed, where is the book I requested?"

Upon hearing the sound, the shopkeeper quickly looked up and respectfully bowed to the indistinct cloud of mist on the roof, his expression one of astonishment and uncertainty.

"Master, we've copied enough! Look, it's all copied exactly from your original, the handwriting is neat, and not a single word is wrong."

He rubbed his hands together, his face beaming with the shrewd smile typical of businessmen, before abruptly changing the subject.

"And I even had five hundred more copies made... Great hero, look... look... this..."

Zhou Ming knew what he meant, and too lazy to waste words with him, he simply took out another five hundred taels of silver notes from his pocket and threw them down.

The silver note floated lightly to the shopkeeper's feet, and Zhou Ming immediately raised his hand and summoned his magic power.

More than 1,500 books were lifted from the ground by an invisible hand and hung neatly around Zhou Ming.