"Memory is a punishment—a punishment for those who remain stagnant."
"Recollection is a prison—pain gives birth to inner demons."
…
Listening to the Demon Blade translate the contents of the Fu Lin scroll, Feng Qi's expression grew serious.
After the preface, the Demon Blade began interpreting the method to operate Fu Lin.
Upon hearing it, Feng Qi immediately sat cross-legged and closed his eyes, immersing his consciousness into the spiritual sea.
Since Fu Lin wasn't a physical cultivation technique but a spiritual heart method, he didn't have to worry about whether his body could circulate its energy.
According to the Demon Blade, Feng Qi's consciousness began pulsing within the spiritual sea.
This was the first time he was cultivating a true spiritual method.
The experience felt awkward to Feng Qi.
Compared to cultivation techniques that required absorbing spiritual energy from heaven and earth and circulating it through the body, mental cultivation in its initial stage was more like tuning a signal—only by aligning with the correct frequency could he access a specific spiritual field and gain the ability to control negative emotions.
It was a complicated process.
To explain it more clearly, this mental tuning was like inputting a long and intricate password.
Only by aligning exactly with the frequency described in the method could he "log in" to the correct cultivation interface.
But this so-called login device wasn't something created by the founder of Fu Lin.
The founder was more like a discoverer—he had stumbled upon a trace of order within the vast chaos of rules and found that syncing consciousness with that order slowly altered the spiritual state.
As he cultivated, Feng Qi carefully adjusted his mental frequency.
The process was extremely uncomfortable. If his consciousness wavered even slightly, the frequency alignment would collapse, and he'd have to start over.
It was like mistyping a password—one mistake and you had to delete the whole thing and re-enter it.
Through trial and error, Feng Qi worked on calming himself, keeping his consciousness stable.
Compared to the spiritual assault techniques developed by Lin Ran, this heart method was truly a spiritual cultivation technique in the purest sense.
The difficulty level skyrocketed.
Especially when he was still unfamiliar with it—every frequency had to be tuned with precision.
Only after gaining enough proficiency could he switch frequencies instantly with a single thought.
Half an hour in, Feng Qi was still adjusting his mental frequency when the Demon Blade's voice suddenly echoed in his mind, shattering the progress he had painstakingly made—barely 20% in.
"Qi brat, I've seen a fair share of spiritual cultivation methods, but this one's… a bit too convoluted. Something feels off."
Feng Qi, who had just been about to complain about the difficulty, frowned upon hearing that.
"Blade Bro, you mean there's something wrong with this method?"
"Not sure. Maybe it's just that the technique's structure is unusually complex, so the frequency syncing becomes complicated too. I'm just giving you a heads-up. Whether or not to continue is up to you."
After hearing the Demon Blade's warning, Feng Qi fell into deep thought.
He felt that even if he brought this heart method back to the Crimson Research Institute, with humanity's current understanding of the spiritual domain, there was no way to crack it.
Now he was faced with two options.
One, memorize the method's principles and abandon the cultivation for now.
Two, keep trying—though it might be risky.
In the Mist Lord's words, so-called inheritances often turned out to be twisted jokes.
No one knew what went through the mind of someone on the verge of death. There was once a small clan that discovered a universal blood-and-body tempering technique, thinking they had stumbled upon divine power.
And the technique was powerful.
But in the end, that small clan promoted it throughout their tribe. Three years later, members began dying off en masse. A Mist Clan elder analyzed the technique and found its very structure flawed—it had hidden traps from the start.
That so-called inheritance had been a final cruel prank that destroyed a clan of nearly a thousand people.
So not all inheritances were trustworthy.
But after a moment's hesitation, Feng Qi made his decision.
He was a Sacrificial Line. If he died, then so be it—what the hell was there to hesitate for?
Once he made up his mind, he closed his eyes again. After adjusting his mindset, he resumed tuning his mental frequency.
He was more practiced with the earlier patterns this time, reaching the previous breakpoint in just 20 minutes.
He kept trying, and his consciousness frequency inched closer and closer to the heart method's target frequency.
An hour later.
Feng Qi's state of mind had settled into a serene clarity during the tuning process, and his efficiency improved significantly.
Finally, his consciousness aligned perfectly with the required frequency of the heart method.
Right at that moment, the black scroll floating in front of Feng Qi began to ripple like water and then dissolved into a liquid, surging toward him and quickly gathering at his forehead, seeping into his body.
Soon, the black liquid appeared in Feng Qi's spiritual sea and rapidly enveloped his consciousness.
That's when Feng Qi realized something was wrong.
His consciousness immediately began to thrash in an attempt to break free, but the liquid's infiltration was incredibly swift.
And then, Feng Qi understood the problem.
No wonder the frequency had to be tuned with such precision.
The so-called inheritance wasn't some divine gift—it was just a trap cloaked in mystery. That intricate tuning was nothing more than a convenient setup for possession.
But what caught Feng Qi's curiosity was that the invading consciousness attempting possession was made entirely of negative emotions.
This was completely different from any consciousness structure he'd seen before, which proved that the one who left this inheritance really might've mastered control over negative emotions.
That thought brought Feng Qi not panic but surprise.
With the Demon Blade here, there was no way he was getting possessed.
This incoming negative consciousness trying to seize his body was outright challenging the Demon Blade—after all, this body now partially belonged to it too.
Trying to steal the body from the Demon Blade was already breaking the rule of non-intervention.
More importantly, he wasn't an easy target.
His own negative emotions weren't something just anyone could handle.
Back when the Demon Blade first merged with him and they shared memories, even its willpower had almost shattered in the sea of negative emotion.
So, he wasn't afraid of the challenge.
As he expected, the Demon Blade was clearly provoked. A moment later, it appeared in his spiritual sea, wrapped in burning black flames.
The instant it showed up, the negative consciousness began to shrink—it had clearly sensed danger.
Hmph!
The Demon Blade's cold snort exploded through Feng Qi's spiritual sea. A terrifying, slaughter-driven spiritual domain instantly enveloped the negative consciousness.
Under the pressure of the Demon Blade's domain, the negative entity was like a block of ice thrown into a blazing fire—it started melting rapidly.
But just as it was about to be wiped out by the Demon Blade's will, it suddenly erupted with a surge of power, managing to break free from the spiritual force and charge toward Feng Qi's consciousness, making one final attempt to take over.
The Demon Blade immediately prepared for a final strike to annihilate it.
But at that moment, Feng Qi's voice echoed in the Demon Blade's consciousness:
"Blade Bro, let it try. It wants my memories and body—I want to see its memories. There might be something in there I need."
"If you can't deal with it, I'll step in."
"Alright."
With the Demon Blade's guarantee, Feng Qi had nothing to worry about.
He let his consciousness expand, allowing the black liquid to cling to it.
The process of being consumed felt more like a fusion, with elements of devouring woven in.
As Feng Qi's sense of self weakened, fragmented images started appearing in his mind.
He immediately focused, absorbing these memory fragments, searching for a method to control negative emotions.
Watching the images flicker past, Feng Qi gradually pieced together the truth.
And it was far more complicated than he'd imagined.
The one who left this inheritance had indeed spent over 300 years battling negative emotions.
He refused to give up, choosing instead to face the darkness and even sought to master it, turning negative emotions into his strength.
So when he created this spiritual heart method to control negativity, the guiding principle was clear:
Fall into darkness—master the darkness.
During that time, Zai Lin endured endless torment, nearly breaking under the corrosion of negativity multiple times.
But he still held on for over three centuries.
That alone was impressive.
But in the end, he couldn't escape the fate of being devoured.
The current negative consciousness wasn't Zai Lin anymore—it was his negative emotional persona.
Over more than 300 years of internal conflict, the negative emotions gained all of Zai Lin's memories and eventually formed a new personality.
In the end, Zai Lin lost. His body and consciousness became one.
From that moment on, the negative consciousness became the only Zai Lin.
But because the fight over the body had lasted a full year, by the time it reclaimed the flesh, the body had already died.
The negative entity was full of resentment.
It didn't know the Spiritual Projection Technique, so it couldn't leave the dead body—it was trapped in it like a prison.
After spending decades struggling, the negative persona finally escaped the body's bindings.
But it still couldn't stray far from the corpse.
It was like being shackled by chains.
So, the negative persona started making plans.
The 108-step staircase built with spiritual materials collected by Zai Lin was the first step in selecting a suitable host.
This was a test of physical strength—possessing a weak body would cost too much time and energy, so the 108 steps filtered out all but the strongest.
As for the Fu Lin heart method—it was a total lie.
That consciousness frequency syncing was actually tuned to the negative persona's own devouring frequency, letting it absorb targets more effectively.
Once the trap was laid, the negative persona fell into dormancy, condensing into a cube that floated above Zai Lin's skull, waiting for a victim to appear.
In the hundreds of years that followed, living beings did come here.
Some ignored the inheritance site entirely and passed by.
Others tried to challenge it to claim the inheritance.
But either they weren't strong enough to climb to the top, or those who did reach the top read the heart method's introduction, found it too complex and useless, and left.
Without a body to support it, the negative consciousness couldn't act against them. If it attacked recklessly, it would've been destroyed.
So it chose to wait—waiting for the so-called "fated one" to appear.
This trap had never been triggered—until now.
Now that he understood everything, Feng Qi suddenly thought of what the Mist Lord had once told him: most inheritance sites had problems.
After all, what kind of decent person would go through all the trouble to leave behind an inheritance for total strangers?
Realizing he had walked into a trap, Feng Qi couldn't help but sigh.
Thinking back, it made perfect sense.
If negative emotions were that easy to deal with, he'd have figured out a solution long ago.
Finding a way to control them through just over 300 years of effort wasn't impossible—but the odds were slim to none.
Just as he was feeling regret, the negative consciousness reached the final stage of its devouring.
Still devouring without realizing the danger it was walking into, the negative consciousness assumed victory was at hand and accelerated its efforts, stepping straight into Feng Qi's core negative zone.
At that moment, Feng Qi heard a voice made entirely of negative emotion:
"Feel... death."
The raspy voice trembled with excitement.
The power of negative emotions surged toward the forbidden zone of his consciousness.
In that instant—death, fear, despair, sorrow—all the accumulated negativity across multiple timelines erupted at once.
That place was the most terrifying hell at the bottom of Feng Qi's heart.
And while both were negative emotions, in front of Feng Qi's own sea of negativity, this intruding consciousness was nothing.
Faced with the invasion of the emotional tsunami, the negative entity froze.
The negative energy that wrapped its consciousness disintegrated instantly.
It was like a child excitedly turning a corner with a toy wooden stick, only to look up and see an entire fully-armed battalion blocking the path.
That little stick? A joke.
But just as Feng Qi's negativity was about to crush the intruder, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind:
"Don't kill me! I know how to help you control your negative emotional corrosion!"
Hearing the plea, Feng Qi paused.
He quickly suppressed his negative eruption, pushing it back down to the depths of his spiritual sea.
The negative consciousness flew out of his core in that moment.
As soon as it escaped, it realized that the Demon Blade wrapped in burning black fire was already floating just ahead of it.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide—it hovered in place, stuck in between.
"Out."
Feng Qi's voice was calm but absolute.
Without resistance, the negative consciousness soared up into the air above his spiritual sea.
Feng Qi's awareness returned, and he slowly opened his eyes.
A strand of black light seeped from between his brows and floated in front of him, condensing into a dark orb.
Even though he'd been tricked, he held back the urge to destroy it—after all, it had just promised to help him control his negative emotions.
"Talk. What's your method?"
"Complete the unfinished mental technique Zai Lin started. If you can succeed, you'll be able to control your negative emotions through it. You might even turn them into a weapon."
Hearing this, Feng Qi's eyes went cold.
He was always the one handing out empty promises—this was the first time someone tried to hand him one.
As if he didn't know what an empty promise was.
That line just now translated to: I can't give it to you now, but maybe someday in the future.
Yeah, right.
Feng Qi immediately grabbed the negative consciousness, ready to crush it.
"Don't kill me! Zai Lin was starting to figure it out—I panicked and tried to take over his body because I was afraid he'd actually succeed!"
Hearing that, Feng Qi hesitated again.
"I'm willing to live inside your spiritual sea, help you improve the method to control your negative emotions. You know I can't possess you—your emotional sea is a barrier I'll never cross."
"On top of that, I can try devouring some of your negativity to weaken its effects on you."
Faced with the pitiful plea, Feng Qi hesitated.
After all, the issue of his negative emotions had always been unsolved. Maybe giving the negative consciousness a chance was really giving himself a chance too.
Thinking that, Feng Qi nodded.
"Alright. I'll trust you—just this once. Don't let me down."
With that, he allowed the negative consciousness to reenter his spiritual sea and merge with his own awareness.
This time, the fusion wasn't aimed at devouring. Feng Qi didn't feel any discomfort.
Once the fusion completed and the entity had a physical anchor, it flew back out of his spiritual sea and started condensing into a humanoid form.
Perhaps because its consciousness had eroded too much, the resulting form was only palm-sized, looking delicate and refined.
As Feng Qi hoisted the Demon Blade and descended the stairs with the negative consciousness in tow...
Below the steps, Lei Ting was already staring at the little figure with a curious face. Then he suddenly leapt up, grabbed the miniature body in his hand, and examined it closely.
He realized this tiny consciousness looked exactly like Feng Qi.
In the end, his gaze locked onto the tiny form.
"So small."
With a grin, Lei Ting extended his right hand—and with a snap, flicked a certain spot with full force.