Chapter Seventy-Seven

Young Master Chú?

The several elders also caught on, and the memory of that devastatingly beautiful face surfaced in their minds. Their thoughts drifted involuntarily, and without even meaning to, their voices softened: "But is the young master not a mortal?"

Both times they had seen Chú Róng, it had been only in passing. They had never examined his spiritual roots closely.

Ordinarily, the earlier one began cultivating the better. Given Chú Róng's age, he had long since passed the ideal period to begin — yet he had managed to draw qi into his body on the very first attempt.

In all of twenty-some years, the Hundred Immortal Sects had gone to the mortal world seeking disciples many times — how had not a single person discovered Chú Róng's talent?

"Who among us was not once a mortal?" Yún Sōng spread his hands, and was not in the least bit surprised: "The young master suffered persecution at Zhù Guānwēi's hands from early on — driven out of the estate to fend for himself. The rural manor was remote and rarely visited. It is entirely understandable that the sects never found him."

Yún Sōng paused briefly, then added: "What's more, some time ago, the Immortal Venerable once mentioned wanting to have the young master cultivate."

Ning Yuan was not the sort of person to speak without purpose. If the Immortal Venerable had said as much, he had harbored the intention of teaching the young master for some time.

In the past nearly two months, Yún Sōng had gone to Wangxian Peak every day to deliver medicine. Jìn Tuò and the others had not the slightest doubt in his words.

So it truly was the young master.

Jìn Tuò's gaze grew hazy as he stared toward Wangxian Peak in the distance, still unable to believe it. The young master had never cultivated before — did this mean that simply by drawing qi into his body for the first time, he had summoned this many tribulation clouds?

What manner of extraordinary talent did the young master possess!

Jìn Tuò felt both regret and gratitude in his heart. Regret, that he had not discovered Chú Róng's aptitude earlier — had he, he would certainly have recruited Chú Róng into Qīngxū Sect and devoted himself to nurturing him. Gratitude, that through all the twists and turns, Chú Róng had still come to Qīngxū Sect. Given time, perhaps he could even stand as an equal to the Immortal Venerable!

"Let's go!" The more Jìn Tuò thought about it, the more stirred he became. He could not sit still any longer. With a sweep of his arm, he channeled his spiritual power and sped toward Wangxian Peak: "Everyone, come help the young master weather the tribulation! The cultivation world has not seen such a staggering talent in several hundred years. We absolutely cannot allow anything to happen to the young master. Even if it requires the full strength of all of Qīngxū Sect, we must protect him!"

"Yes!" The elders exchanged a look and raised no objection whatsoever. All of them set off after Jìn Tuò.

Over a dozen figures shot out from the main hall of the central peak one after another, like meteors. The disciples inside and outside the sect noticed, and another wave of exclamations broke out.

What in the world had happened, that the sect leader and all the elders were mobilizing together?

The dark clouds over Wangxian Peak — why did they look so much like tribulation clouds?

Surely the Immortal Venerable was not breaking through again?

The sect's disciples gazed at the storm-cloud-shrouded Wangxian Peak, discussing it among themselves in a flurry.

Jìn Tuò paid no heed to the agitated disciples. The group rushed to the base of Wangxian Peak, only to find the entire peak enveloped in a powerful restriction seal — no outsider could enter at all.

"It's the Immortal Venerable!" Jìn Tuò exclaimed: "It must be a restriction seal the Immortal Venerable laid!"

Within the restriction, the spiritual energy of Wangxian Peak had gathered into streams of visible white mist, all pouring toward the palace at the peak's summit. Around the palace, a massive vortex of spiritual energy had formed.

Meanwhile, far away at the edge of the sky, another great bank of dark clouds converged once more. Lightning flashed and crackled within, spiraling above the palace — as though it might strike down at any moment.

It was not only Qīngxū Sect. The towns and forests in the surrounding area, for nearly a hundred li in every direction with Wangxian Peak at the center, were all blanketed beneath the shadow of those dark clouds.

Jìn Tuò's eyes went wide once more. He pointed at the tribulation clouds overhead, his arm trembling beyond his control: "Still— still more tribulation clouds!"

The young master had not merely drawn qi into his body — his cultivation stage was breaking through one level after another.

Early Qi Refinement.

Mid Qi Refinement.

……

"Foundation— Foundation Establishment." Jìn Tuò's pupils quivered. He sucked in a sharp breath and was so overcome with excitement that he could barely get the words out. The young master had broken straight through to Foundation Establishment in one go!

"No!" The Second Elder clenched both fists, his chest heaving violently, his face flushed crimson with exhilaration, his voice trembling: "It's not Foundation Establishment — the young master's cultivation is still breaking through!"

Mid Foundation Establishment.

Late Foundation Establishment.

……

"——Golden Core!!" Yún Sōng's voice shot up suddenly in pitch. He leapt two feet off the ground on the spot!

To advance from drawing qi all the way through to Golden Core in a single session was unprecedented before and likely never to be seen again. Even Ning Yuan — who three hundred years ago had also condensed a Golden Core in a single session from the drawing of qi, one foot stepping into Nascent Soul — had to concede a fraction to this!

After all, when Ning Yuan was cultivating, the spiritual energy of the cultivation world had been diminishing, but it was nowhere near as scarce as it was now. He had the advantage of far more favorable circumstances than the young master.

Yún Sōng had never imagined, in all his living years, that he would see a person of greater talent than the Immortal Venerable!

Yet before Yún Sōng could finish his words, the tribulation clouds high above stopped gathering — and even showed faint signs of beginning to disperse.

"The young master hasn't successfully condensed the core!" Jìn Tuò's brow creased. He fixed his gaze on the tribulation clouds in the sky, pacing back and forth anxiously outside the restriction seal: "That shouldn't be right — given the number of tribulation clouds, the young master should be able to condense a Golden Core without any trouble."

"Look!" The Second Elder noticed something and raised a pointing finger toward the area surrounding the palace: "The spiritual energy — the spiritual energy at the summit of Wangxian Peak is gone!"

Everyone looked in that direction, and only then did they notice that the vortex of spiritual energy surrounding the palace had vanished at some point. The spiritual energy that had been gathered by the spiritual-gathering arrays across Wangxian Peak had been completely depleted!

Breaking through to a new cultivation stage required enormous quantities of spiritual energy. Once it was insufficient, the advancement would be forcibly halted — and this was one of the key reasons why the cultivation world had not produced a single new Nascent Soul cultivator in several hundred years.

"We can't let this happen!" Jìn Tuò ground his teeth, his face full of reluctance: "We cannot allow the young master's cultivation to stall here!"

Condensing the Golden Core was the most critical breakthrough below the Nascent Soul stage. Successfully crossing it directly extended a cultivator's lifespan by five hundred years.

And for the young master to ever reach Nascent Soul in the future, condensing the Golden Core was the most foundational step.

Jìn Tuò's expression was grave. He stepped urgently forward several paces, until he was almost pressing against the restriction seal. After a long, intense deliberation, he gave a decisive order: "Channel the spiritual energy from all the other peaks to Wangxian Peak!"

It was a shortage of spiritual energy, was it?

Very well — Qīngxū Sect had numerous spiritual-gathering arrays. There was still plenty of spiritual energy!

Qīngxū Sect had a standing rule: whenever a sect disciple was breaking through and required spiritual energy, the sect's spiritual energy could be freely redirected. Jìn Tuò had already brought Chú Róng under Qīngxū Sect's umbrella. Using the sect's spiritual energy was entirely justified.

Everyone present was a cultivator, and all understood well how important condensing the Golden Core was. The elders did not dare to delay. They hurried back to their respective side peaks and channeled the spiritual energy toward Wangxian Peak.

The spiritual energy from several side peaks transformed into streams of flowing spiritual power, flowing together into Wangxian Peak, penetrating through the restriction seal, and pouring together toward the palace at the summit.

Outside the palace, Ning Yuan — who was intercepting the heavenly tribulation — paused his movements for a moment. He looked down at the base of the peak, then swept the sword-blade condensed from his spiritual energy across the sky, shattering another bolt of heavenly lightning that was descending.

Inside the palace, Chú Róng was oblivious to what was happening outside. The violent pain throughout his body had faded without his noticing. He maintained his cross-legged posture, guiding the spiritual energy in his elixir field to circulate again and again through the acupoints Ning Yuan had taught him.

His entire skin was covered in a thick layer of dark substance — his head, neck, hands, feet — all coated in black. Seen from a distance, the figure seated on the jade couch looked as though it had been shaped from black mud.

The air around him also carried an unpleasant smell — not simply a foul, metallic stench, but an extraordinarily complex and multifaceted odor, nauseating enough to turn the stomach.

But Chú Róng had no attention to spare for any of that right now. Within his elixir field, spiritual energy was pouring in ceaselessly, gradually converging at the center into a dense ball of light.

The ball of light then solidified further, taking shape — forming a round, golden, gleaming pellet.

The Golden Core was formed.

The core condensation was a success!

At the base of Wangxian Peak, Jìn Tuò and his party watched as the tribulation clouds gathered once more. They threw up their arms and cheered. A group of people several hundred years old rejoiced like children of seven or eight.

After the burst of excitement, they all held their breath again, staring unblinking at the tribulation clouds above the peak's summit.

Early Golden Core.

Mid Golden Core.

……

At the summit, the tribulation clouds massed ever thicker. It was not only the towns and forests surrounding Qīngxū Sect — nearly a hundred li in every direction with Wangxian Peak at the center had been plunged beneath the shadow of that dark canopy.

By now, those sects that had been paying close attention to Qīngxū Sect's movements also began to detect that something unusual was occurring.

Tiānjī Sect.

Hè Tíng sat alone before a writing desk, one hand propped against his temple, looking at the letter of visit that had been returned — for who knew what number of times — a faintly languid air about his handsome, gentle face.

But upon closer inspection, one would notice that his eyes were dark and sharp, the undercurrents churning within them enough to send a chill down the spine.

In the hall, several disciples in yellow robes held up the latest intelligence report, their mouths moving silently — yet not one dared to speak aloud.

The atmosphere inside the hall was heavy and suffocating. After the disciples' foreheads had broken into sweat for who knew how many layers, Hè Tíng raised a hand, picked up the letter of visit, and began to speak in a measured, unhurried tone: "Speak."

The disciple standing at the very front bowed and stepped forward, offering the intelligence report to Hè Tíng.

Hè Tíng set down the letter of visit. His clearly-jointed fingers turned open the report — and in the next moment, his hand froze in midair. The emotions that had been suppressed in the depths of his eyes, like cold water dashed into a cauldron of hot oil, cracked open all at once!

"Ning Yuan!!" Hè Tíng slammed to his feet and swept every scroll on the writing desk to the floor with one swing of his arm.

Two months!

In just two months, Ning Yuan was breaking through to another cultivation stage!

And in those two months, the countless letters of visit Tiānjī Sect had sent to Qīngxū Sect had all been returned untouched.

Qīngxū Sect claimed on the outside that Chú Róng was not receiving visitors — Hè Tíng did not believe a single word of it. It was plainly Ning Yuan interfering, not wanting him to see Chú Róng.

Ning Yuan was already at the Mahayana stage — no one in the three realms could match him. Now his cultivation had advanced again. There was even less chance of anyone daring to oppose him.

Was he truly to stand by and watch helplessly as Ning Yuan claimed Chú Róng for himself alone?

Hè Tíng's hands clenched into tight fists. He brought them down heavily on the writing desk, his features contorted to an extreme. He ground his teeth, as though he wanted nothing more than to grind Ning Yuan to dust and scatter him to the wind.

The disciples kept their heads bowed, not daring to breathe.

—

Yúnyǐn Valley.

The young man of ambiguously gendered features stood amid a sea of flowers, reading the intelligence report in his hands to the end. His fingers suddenly clenched. Every knuckle went white. The paper bearing the report crumbled to powder.

As expected of Ning Yuan — talent so extraordinary that others could only look up in envy.

"Valley Master." A medicine apprentice bowed and presented a letter of visit: "The people of Qīngxū Sect have replied — Young Master Chú is not receiving visitors."

That line again. In two months, Jīng Héng had heard it more times than he could count.

Whether it was truly Chú Róng who was not seeing outsiders, or Ning Yuan who was not allowing Chú Róng to see anyone?

Jīng Héng did not need to guess — he knew it was the latter. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze remote and cold. He opened his fingers, and the fragments of paper in his palm scattered and drifted down: "Keep sending letters of visit."

—

Dùfǎ Temple.

In the prayer hall, the sound of Buddhist chanting drifted softly.

When the news arrived, Yún Tán's downcast eyes opened abruptly, and the prayer beads turning in his hand went still.

"Yún Tán." From beneath the great golden Buddha, Kōng Wèn, eyes closed, spoke with a voice that carried weight and gravity: "Your heart is not still."

Yún Tán curled his fingers tighter. The smooth prayer beads pressed into his palm. The expression that had always been neither sorrowful nor joyful on his face — like that of a celestial banished to earth — shattered apart like a thin sheet of ice. The eyes like still ancient wells were filled with surging turbulence he could no longer suppress.

"This disciple is willing to accept punishment — to banish himself from the order." Yún Tán pressed a single palm upright, lowered his head slightly, and said in a low, hoarse voice, without any denial whatsoever.

"Ah, you." Master Kōng Wèn opened his eyes and looked at Yún Tán with a gaze of compassion: "What need is there for this? Letting go is the way to peace."

Yún Tán had been born with a natural affinity for the Buddhist path — how could he not know this truth?

Yet Yún Tán pressed his beautifully shaped lips closed. He thought back to that brief encounter with that person at Qingyang Heavenly Sect, and in resignation, closed his eyes: "Master, this disciple cannot see through it, and cannot let it go."

……

The reactions of the other sects upon receiving the intelligence report were all much the same. Without exception, they all assumed it was Ning Yuan's cultivation breaking through again, and could not help but feel a further measure of awe and reverence toward Qīngxū Sect.

—

The people of Qīngxū Sect were unaware of what the other sects were thinking. The tribulation clouds continued to swirl above the summit of Wangxian Peak for three days and three nights without dispersing.

Jìn Tuò and his party stood vigil at the base of the peak, not daring to leave by so much as a step.

Since Chú Róng had broken through to the Golden Core stage, the advancement of his cultivation had gradually slowed. After three days, his cultivation stage had settled firmly at the peak of Golden Core — the Great Completion of the Golden Core stage — and showed no further signs of fluctuation.

作者有話說：

Sorry for the long wait~

Happy New Year to everyone!