Five hundred years ago—
In Eastern Luozhou of the Qi Kingdom, mountains overlapped, and peaks were like iron. The thousand-mile mountain ridge wound like a dragon, yet the vegetation was all withered, the rocks were all dark, and vitality had long since vanished. The wind came from the north, swirling with grit and dead leaves, passing over the stone walls and emitting a low "woo—" moan, like a mournful wind howling through the night, lingering for a long time. The sky was dim, with black clouds piled up like ink, obscuring the moon and hiding the stars, as if the light of the heavens had been swallowed. If one looked down from a distance, among the peaks, in a giant cliff rift valley, a magnificent mountain gate faintly appeared, dark as iron, with a chilling aura. Three words, "Gui Chi Gate," were carved on the mountain gate, with sharp brushstrokes and ghostly fire faintly wandering incessantly. That sliver of cold light was like a gateway to the Netherworld.
——Inside the Gui Chi Gate, Moyu Altar——
The altar was nine zhang high, built of obsidian, octagonal in shape, with talismans carved at the ends of each corner. On each corner stood a bronze hideous head, holding ghostly blue flames in its mouth, flickering in the wind, casting eerie light and shadows around. The center of the altar was densely covered with runes, winding like snakes, with dark light slowly crawling along the patterns. Dozens of attendants and disciples stood solemnly with heads bowed, dressed in ink-colored Daoist robes, with silver silk Wei patterns embroidered on the cuffs, their expressions respectful, not daring to move. Black flags fluttered around the altar, the surfaces painted with scenes of pale skeletal shadows. As the yin wind passed, the flags made a "clattering" sound, adding a few more degrees of killing intent.
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Sitting at the head of the altar was Elder Lei Heng, standing with hands behind his back. His cultivation was Early Nascent Soul, his hair as white as snow, his long beard hanging to his chest, his face lean, yet his eyes were like flashes of lightning. He wore a magnificent black robe embroidered with gold thread depicting a Nine Nether Coiling Dragon, the dragon's head hideous as if it wanted to burst out of the clothing. He raised his hand and announced loudly, "The auspicious hour has arrived, the sacred object—open the altar!" As soon as he finished speaking, the ghostly fires around the altar brightened suddenly, and blue flames shot thirty feet into the sky, dyeing half the sky in an eerie color.
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The void at the top of the altar trembled slightly, and a black figure slowly solidified. This person was named Fu Jiuyi, the Grand Elder of the Gui Chi Gate, also Early Nascent Soul, yet three points superior to Lei Heng. His white hair was unbound, dancing wildly in the wind, his long beard like a waterfall, his eyes seeming to have an inverted galaxy within them. He was clad in a noble black robe embroidered with the Hundred Charms Worshiping the Ancestor chart in dark gold silk thread, and a white jade ghost-face pendant hung from his waist. His spiritual pressure was like a tide, sweeping the field. His feet did not touch the dust as he stood in mid-air, his gaze scanning downward. Anyone swept by his gaze felt their soul shake, and subconsciously bowed their heads.
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Below the altar, a person bowed and stepped forward, precisely the Former Pavilion Master of the Yin Spirit Pavilion—Fang Qidui, Mid Core Formation cultivation, dressed in a lilac-blue brocade robe, with intricate cloud patterns finely embroidered in gold thread, among which ghostly charms seemed to play, extremely luxurious. His face was handsome and elegant, yet a trace of gloom condensed between his brows. He held a sandalwood box with both hands, the surface covered with restriction runes, ghostly light flowing. Fang Qidui walked with steady steps to the center of the altar, knelt on one knee, and said with head bowed, "Subordinate Fang Qidui, respectfully welcomes the sacred object!"
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Lei Heng nodded slightly, his palm lightly pressing against the void, his voice like a great bell, "Gui Chi Gate has received the blessing of the Upper Sect and obtained this sacred object. We will certainly do our utmost and not fail the trust! This is the heavy trust of the Youming Nightmare Manor, and also the opportunity for our sect to rise." He spoke with pride, each word weighing a thousand catties, "Today, this task is handed to the Yin Spirit Pavilion. You must use the 'Tranquil Spirit Art' to nurture the needs of the sacred object to carry it, nourishing it with vitality daily. After the sacred object takes shape, the Upper Sect will naturally send an envoy to take it back... During this period, if there is even half a mistake, you will surely suffer heavy punishment, and find it difficult to atone for your crime!"
Fang Qidui looked up, his gaze resolute, and responded, "Elder, please rest assured, this subordinate will protect the sacred object with his life! The Yin Spirit Pavilion has inherited the technique of the Profound Yin Spirit for hundreds of years, and the 'Tranquil Spirit Art' has also reached the peak of perfection. All required matters can be handled without hindrance. When the time is ripe, we will certainly be able to help the sacred object take shape!" After speaking, his hands trembled slightly, as he steadily lifted the wooden box. Within the wooden box, there was a sudden buzzing vibration, like the palpitation of the birth of all things, and like the low whispers of the Netherworld echoing in the dark.
Fu Jiuyi looked down from above, the corners of his mouth curving slightly in a half-smile. He flicked his sleeve, his voice like cold ice and broken jade, yet carrying an unquestionable majesty, "Good. Fang Qidui, do you know the origin of this sacred object?" Without waiting for a response, he continued, "This object is called 'Time of Birth,' a divine object from the Upper Realm, which occasionally descended to our Kunwu Realm, and was obtained by the Main Sect."
At this time, below the altar, someone faintly responded in a low voice, "Precisely... Nightmare..."
Upon hearing that one word, Fang Qidui's heart immediately shivered, and that name surfaced in his mind—Yanshi Sect.
Fu Jiuyi raised his hand and spoke loudly again, "However, the Main Sect, considering the loyalty of my Youming Nightmare Manor, specially bestowed this treasure. After the Mansion Lord thought it over repeatedly, he finally chose our Gui Chi Gate to undertake this heavy responsibility." He spoke with pride, his gaze scanning the field, "From now on, the Feng Chi Gate and the Yan Ming Gate, both must follow the lead of our Gui Chi Gate! This is the value the Upper Sect places on the 'Tranquil Spirit Art' of the Yin Spirit Pavilion, it is the supreme glory of our sect, and it is the thousand-year achievement of your Yin Spirit Pavilion!"
Fang Qidui heard this, his body shook, a fanatical light burst out in his eyes, and he prostrated himself again, "Subordinate remembers the Grand Elder's teachings! Yin Spirit Pavilion will exert the power of the entire pavilion to nourish the sacred object, and will never fail the expectations of the Main Sect! Even if I must pay with my life, I will not hesitate!" As the words fell, the ghostly fires of the altar flourished suddenly, and blue flames surged like waves, swallowing his figure for a moment before receding, leaving only the incessant buzzing of the wooden box. The runes upon it flickered with dark light, as if foretelling the prologue of a turbulent and dark rain.
——
In Liangdou Village of the Qi Kingdom, outside the Lin family dyehouse, the night was deep. The moonlight was like water, spilling onto the mottled roof tiles. Cloud shadows moved occasionally, the wind brushed the eaves, and the uncollected cloth under the eaves made a slight "patter" sound. Among the grass, a few fireflies flickered, matching the sparse stars in the sky, making this quiet mountain village night seem even more deep and unpredictable.
Inside the house, Lin Dalu stood by the window, his gaze falling on Fang Yun—both familiar and strange. Familiar was that gentle-as-before Xiang'er, but the strange part made him doubt, was the Xiang'er before him... or... Fang Yun? She seemed to carry a divine charm that did not belong to the mortal world, making it difficult to grasp for a moment.
Just as his thoughts were in disarray, he saw "Fang Yun's" lips curve slightly, blooming into a shallow smile, just like spring ice beginning to melt, warmth suddenly arising. Her voice was gentle yet candid, "Young Master Lin, although my memory has returned, our meeting and all the things we shared, I, Fang Yun, remember them all in my heart, without forgetting a drop." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze flowing, falling on Lin Dalu's apprehensive face, "If Young Master does not mind, you can still call me Xiang'er."
These words entered his ears like celestial music. Lin Dalu only felt a warm current surge from the bottom of his heart, instantly dispersing all doubts and anxieties. His heart felt a weight lifted, and he was so excited his voice trembled, "Re... Really? I can still... call you Xiang'er?" The ecstasy of regaining something lost seized him. Although two days were short, the twists and turns and life and death they experienced were more than the past ten years, actually making him have the illusion that he had known the person before him for many years.
At this moment, whatever distinction between men and women or constraints of ritual were all thrown behind him. He stepped forward quickly, stretched out his arms, and hugged Xiang'er, "I... I was really afraid you would leave just like that... afraid that since you are an Immortal above the clouds, you would leave me, this mortal, and drift away..." For a moment, he was lost, and buried his face in the hair at the side of her shoulder.
Xiang'er was startled by Lin Dalu's sudden action, but then a soft smile hung on her lips, and she allowed him to hold her. After a long while, she felt her breathing was a bit obstructed, so she gently pushed him and chided, "Young Master Lin, you... you are holding me a bit too tightly."
Hearing this, Lin Dalu woke up like from a dream, hurriedly let go, retreated two steps, and his face instantly turned bright red, like the red cloth just out of the vats in the dyehouse. He was at a loss, bowing repeatedly, "This... this humble one was abrupt! It was truly a loss of self-control, definitely not intentional disrespect, I hope Miss Xiang'er forgives me!"
Seeing him in this state, Xiang'er instead "pfft" laughed out loud, tidied her slightly wrinkled collar, and said softly, "No matter, I know Young Master was concerned and became confused." She paused and changed the subject, "By the way, is Young Master going to decoct the medicine? I saw the medicine bowl was knocked over just now."
Reminded by Xiang'er, Lin Dalu remembered this matter, "Precisely! I only cared about... I still have several doses of medicinal materials in my wooden casket, I will go and decoct them again right now." As he spoke, he was about to turn around.
"Young Master, wait." Xiang'er called out to him, shaking her head slightly, "No need to trouble yourself with decocting medicine. My injuries are already no longer an issue."
Lin Dalu's steps paused, he turned his head in astonishment, his face full of confusion, "No issue? This... how is this possible? It was so heavy before, how could it heal in an instant?" He looked Xiang'er up and down, seeing her complexion was indeed rosy and her eyes clear, a world of difference from her previous state of being unconscious and having breath as thin as silk, making him even more shocked and uncertain.
Xiang'er knew his confusion and explained patiently, "Does Young Master still remember the technique formula I performed before I woke up?"
Lin Dalu nodded repeatedly, "I remember, I remember! It was that strange method that could draw a swift wind and blow the objects in the room all over the place."
"This technique formula is called the 'Tranquil Spirit Art,'" Xiang'er spoke slowly, her voice clear, "It was obtained by the founding ancestor of my Yin Spirit Pavilion by chance. It is said that this technique formula was deduced and repaired by a certain great power of the Demon Lineage from fragments of ancient cultivation techniques. Although it is regarded as a 'False Technique' and is difficult to reach the supreme realm of the Grand Dao, in the way of healing injuries and strengthening the foundation, it can also be called top-tier. When performing the technique, it can not only improve talent slightly and nourish the spirit roots in the body, but it can also promote the gathering and absorption of the spirit qi of heaven and earth, and accelerate its transformation into one's own spirit power, stored within the Qi Sea. In this way, in the Breath Cultivation of the Qi Refinement stage, it is of great benefit, achieving twice the result with half the effort."
This talk involved many strange words like "False Technique," "talent," "spirit root," "spirit qi," "Qi Refinement," "Breath Cultivation," and "Qi Sea." Lin Dalu listened until he was in a fog, completely confused, blinking his eyes blankly, totally not understanding the meaning. In his daily life, he only came into contact with dyeing techniques and village chores, when had he ever heard of such mysterious talk?
Xiang'er observed his expression and already knew his confusion, so she smiled gracefully, reached out her slender hand to gently pull his sleeve, and led him to sit side by side by the couch. "Young Master Lin is a mortal, which means an ordinary person who has not stepped onto the path of cultivation. What you think about daily is nothing more than livelihood and daily life." Xiang'er's voice was soft, "And I am what you and Liu Hai call an 'Immortal.'" As she spoke, she raised her slender jade hand, palm upward, and saw white qi threads rising from her fingertips, like smoke or mist, spiraling around.
Her bright eyes turned slightly, and she caught sight of a Table-Propping Stick on the ground by the door. She then pinched her fingers like an orchid and grabbed it from a distance. That short stick seemed to be seized by an invisible hand, wobbling and rising into the air!
Lin Dalu was dumbfounded and blurted out, "This... isn't this the means of street magic?"
Hearing this, the smile on Xiang'er's lips deepened, she lightly retracted her wrist, and the jade hand maintaining the grabbing posture seemed to be pulling an invisible thread. The suspended short stick then flew through the air to her palm and landed steadily. She handed the stick to Lin Dalu.
Lin Dalu's eyes widened, staring deathly at that piece of wood, then looked at Xiang'er's fair palm, and stammered, "This... this..."
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"This is not magic," Xiang'er tucked away her smile and said seriously, "This is the 'Qi Mastery Formula,' one of the most basic cultivation techniques for us cultivators, and what it governs is this invisible spirit qi between heaven and earth."
Lin Dalu was dazed for a long while, then a flash of inspiration hit his brain, and he suddenly remembered something, "Oh! That's it! Previously when Liu Hai accidentally fell into the dye vat and you saved him, did you use this kind of means? It's just... Liu Hai's size was much bigger than this wood!" Thinking of Liu Hai being lifted out of the dye vat by invisible force at that time, a look of realization and wonder intertwined on Lin Dalu's face.
Xiang'er smiled and nodded, "It was indeed so. At that time, I had just woken up, and the spirit power in my body had not yet fully recovered. Suddenly forcing the 'Qi Mastery Formula' was a huge consumption, therefore I was exhausted and couldn't support myself."
Lin Dalu seemed to understand a bit and asked, "Then... I often hear people say that Immortals can all ride swords and fly in the sky, traveling a thousand miles a day, isn't that just like your 'Qi Mastery Formula'? The difference is, you govern wood and Liu Hai, while the Immortals govern flying swords?" Asking here, a strange thought suddenly popped into Lin Dalu's head, Since one can govern objects, it doesn't necessarily have to be a sword? If one steps on Liu Hai, wouldn't it also be possible to fly? In an instant, a picture appeared in his mind—Liu Hai's arms stretched forward, his fists clenched, his body rigidly suspended in mid-air, but on his back stood a broad-robed, large-sleeved, immortal-looking old man with hair and beard flying, roaming the sea of clouds... This scene was truly too ridiculous and ugly! Lin Dalu quickly shook his head, forcibly dispersing this absurd picture.
Xiang'er was amused by his quirky idea and covered her mouth with a silver-bell-like laugh, "What Young Master thinks is also... unique. However, that sword-riding flight technique is the 'Sword-Riding Formula,' which is much more profound and mysterious than this 'Qi Mastery Formula,' and it requires a cultivator whose cultivation has reached the Foundation Establishment Stage to have enough spirit power to support and begin practicing."
——(To be continued)