Chapter 896: Time Traveler Confirmed

"Alright, I've decided to go to Fengyue Island!"

Yi Feng made up his mind without hesitation.

"Here’s a nautical chart for you."

Piaomiao Hong handed him a pre-prepared map and explained softly, "The only way to reach Fengyue Island is by boat."

"Long-distance flight isn’t feasible in the Heavenly Domain. The sea is shrouded in dense mist, and even the most powerful experts risk losing their way if they attempt to fly far. Pinpointing a destination is nearly impossible."

"To facilitate travel, the Heavenly Domain has public transport ships that connect to various locations. There are ten routes in total, labeled Line 1 to Line 10," Piaomiao Hong elaborated.

Hearing this, Yi Feng’s eyes widened in surprise.

Public transport ships?

And they’re numbered from Line 1 to Line 10?

Why does this sound so familiar?

"Are these public transport ships another creation of the Linglong Pavilion?" Yi Feng asked.

"You see right through it, Master Yi. Truly brilliant," Piaomiao Hong replied with a charming smile. "Such an extensive network could only be managed by the Linglong Pavilion—no one else in the Heavenly Domain has the resources."

"Of course, it’s the Linglong Pavilion again!"

Yi Feng smirked.

The mastermind behind the Linglong Pavilion was undoubtedly a transmigrator—no doubt about it.

Who else would come up with something like public transport ships if not a transmigrator?

"Go on," Yi Feng urged.

"Mm."

Piaomiao Hong nodded and continued, "Each route’s public transport ship stops at major ports along the way, making it quite convenient for traveling cultivators. The ships also fly unique colored flags, so no one—not even pirates who make a living plundering at sea—would dare lay a finger on them. After all, no one messes with the Linglong Pavilion’s property."

"However, some routes are more remote than others. Busier routes have daily departures, while the less frequented ones might only run once every half-month."

"For your journey to Fengyue Island, you’ll need to take Line 8, which is one of the more secluded routes."

Piaomiao Hong laid out the details meticulously.

"Fortunately, Line 8’s ship will pass by Teleportation Island tomorrow morning, so you won’t have to wait at all."

"You’ve been very thoughtful, Lady Piao. I appreciate it," Yi Feng said gratefully.

"You flatter me, Master Yi. The two dragonfish you gifted me were a heavenly blessing—I could never repay such kindness. If I couldn’t even handle this small matter, how could I face you?" Piaomiao Hong replied softly. "However, I must apologize in advance—I won’t be accompanying you on this trip. I have some personal affairs to settle in my remaining time, and I also need to return the dragonfish to Sword Valley."

"So here, I’ll wish you a triumphant return—no, I mean, I hope you fulfill your wishes."

"If, by any chance, you do return victorious, I’ve left Sword Valley’s detailed address on the jade slip. You can take the public transport ship directly there to find me," Piaomiao Hong added. "I’ll make sure everything is arranged for you afterward."

"Then I thank you, Lady Piao!"

Yi Feng cupped his hands in respect.

The next day, Yi Feng boarded the Line 8 public transport ship bound for Fengyue Island at Teleportation Island’s harbor.

At first glance, the so-called public transport ship didn’t seem extraordinary—but upon closer inspection, Yi Feng was utterly stunned.

It was a colossal vessel, even larger than the Titanic from his past life’s movies.

The ship was packed with people from all walks of life—rough-and-tumble adventurers, well-dressed young masters from prominent families—a chaotic mix.

Before long, the ship set sail, gliding into the boundless ocean. The vast, undulating sea stretched endlessly, a breathtaking sight.

The ship moved much faster than expected—ordinary cultivators’ flight speeds probably couldn’t match it.

After watching for a while, Yi Feng grew bored and decided to explore.

The public transport ship had four decks. The first deck was essentially a bustling street lined with shops selling everything from elixirs to rare materials—even an auction house.

Along the sides, cultivators sat cross-legged, trading goods in makeshift stalls.

The second deck was the ship’s entertainment hub, strikingly similar to the cruise ships of his past life.

The third deck housed private cultivation chambers, each equipped with formations that doubled the efficiency of cultivation. Renting one required a hefty fee, though. Those who couldn’t afford it had to meditate in the open.

As for the fourth deck, it was the most restricted area—rumored to be the shipmaster’s private quarters, off-limits to outsiders.

After getting a general sense of the ship’s layout, Yi Feng headed straight for the second deck.

He didn’t need anything from the first deck, and the cultivation chambers on the third deck were useless to him.

"Well, well."

The moment he stepped onto the second deck, Yi Feng was in for another shock.

He had assumed the entertainment here would be something mundane, but instead, he found people playing Dou Dizhu (Fight the Landlord) and Mahjong.

Damn.

If the mastermind behind the Linglong Pavilion wasn’t a transmigrator, Yi Feng would eat his hat.

Thinking of Dou Dizhu reminded him of that one night at Pingjiang City’s Yihong Pavilion.

Spending the night playing with Mao Yun'er and Yao Ling'er had been one of his most satisfying winning streaks.

The memory brought a pang of nostalgia.

Though he still played Dou Dizhu occasionally—having taught the old-timers in Pingjiang City—he hadn’t touched Mahjong since transmigrating. Seeing it now made his fingers itch.

But Yi Feng didn’t jump into a game right away. Instead, he wandered around, observing the players.

To his further surprise, the games included Sichuan Mahjong (Bloody Battle to the End), Fujian Mahjong, and other regional variants like Red Dragon and Bird Catching.

But these cultivators didn’t seem very skilled.

One burly man with a hairy chest made an ill-advised move, while a seemingly well-bred young woman declared a false win.

After sizing up the competition, Yi Feng casually took a seat at a table with two women and a middle-aged man.

Picking up the tiles, he noticed they were made of a special material—no cultivator could cheat using their abilities.

Since Yi Feng’s cultivation only allowed him to fly (with no other flashy perks), he had to rely on pure skill.

Perhaps because it had been so long, his luck was absurdly good.

The first hand was a Heavenly Win—he drew the perfect tile right after declaring readiness.

Amid the grumbling of his opponents, Yi Feng raked in a pile of immortal crystals.

Over the next few rounds, his combination of luck and skill meant he won eight out of ten games.

Soon, the other three were scowling, their faces dark with frustration, before they shoved their tiles aside and stormed off.

"It’s just a game. No need to be sore losers."

Yi Feng gleefully pocketed the immortal crystals and moved to another table, continuing his winning streak.

"Ahaha, my apologies—I've won again," Yi Feng said with a sly grin, lounging lazily in his chair.

The scene was practically begging for a leisurely smoke to complete the picture.

Half a day later, Yi Feng had swept through both low-stakes and high-stakes tables, dominating the entire floor and amassing an uncountable fortune in immortal crystals.

"If I'd known about this back in Pingjiang City, I wouldn’t have had to suffer through tasteless gruel—hell, even the crap I ate barely came out!"

Yi Feng marveled at how effortlessly the wealth had come.

But what he didn’t realize was that his every move on the second floor had been under careful observation.

"Keep an eye on him here. I’m heading up to the fourth floor," instructed a steward-like man to his subordinate before striding off toward the higher level.