Dejected, Duanmu Wan brushed aside a stray lock of hair and gazed out the window. The world beyond was quiet, untouched by her turmoil. Suddenly, she let out a soft, bitter laugh. “You lot have it better in the end… knowing nothing, and not needing to know anything. All you need to do is accept the result.”
“Perhaps,” Lu Sheng replied with a faint smile, shaking his head ever so slightly.
“Sometimes, knowing too much only makes you weary… even frightened,” Duanmu Wan murmured.
“Even so, I’d rather know,” Lu Sheng said calmly. “At least then, I might see a glimmer of hope—to steer my own fate.”
“Maybe,” she sighed, her tone tinged with resignation.
Their meeting had been nothing more than chance. Yet, the moment Duanmu Wan saw Lu Sheng, a shadow stirred within her heart—memories of a man she had once admired from afar. From his dazzling rise to his tragic fall, she had watched him silently, too afraid to step closer, too weak to confess.
Now, staring at Lu Sheng seated across from her, she couldn’t help but see fragments of that man reflected in his calm eyes. That faint resemblance was enough to make her stay—to share a pot of tea, if only for a fleeting moment of nostalgia.
She smiled wryly to herself. If the others knew that she, the Autumn Princess, was spending her time drinking tea with an ordinary mortal while the world around her tightened with chaos, they would mock her without mercy.
But so what?
She was the Autumn Princess—the venomous beauty feared by all, the snake and the scorpion in human form. What did their scorn matter to her? She did as she pleased. No one had the right to question her.
“A word of reminder to you—if you ever come across any Noblemen, run. Especially if they’re of direct lineage. Alright, enough of that. Let’s change the topic. Drink up!”
Duanmu Wan raised her cup and downed the tea in one swift gulp, as though it were fine wine. Then, abandoning all pretense of decorum, she reached for the cakes beside her.
Lu Sheng said nothing more. He simply sat with her in quiet companionship, aware that her spirit had sunk to its lowest ebb.
Her world was an alien one—vast, distant, and utterly unknown to him. Yet even so, Lu Sheng could sense what Duanmu Wan needed at that moment.
What she needed wasn’t words, nor comfort, nor answers. She simply needed someone to sit beside her—quietly, without judgment, without expectation.
And so, despite the storm of questions swirling in his heart, Lu Sheng said nothing. He smothered the urge to speak, to pry, to understand. All he did was sit with her, sharing that wordless stillness, the faint aroma of tea filling the air between them.
It wasn’t until dusk draped the city in gold and crimson, and the streets began to hum with the crackle of charcoal grills, that Duanmu Wan finally rose. Without a word, she turned and departed.
She came swiftly, and left just as swiftly—like a passing breeze, leaving behind only the faint trace of her scent and the silence of her absence.
When Lu Sheng stepped out of the teahouse, the evening had come alive. The air was thick with the fragrance of grilled meat skewers. Oil lanterns hung from tall poles, their light flickering against fluttering banners that bore the names of countless hawker stalls. The street pulsed with motion—vendors calling, people laughing, a tide of humanity flowing beneath the glow of firelight.
He didn’t know how far apart he stood from Duanmu Wan’s world. Perhaps it was a distance that could never be crossed. But it didn’t matter. All he wanted was the strength to seize control of his own destiny in this chaotic world. That alone was enough.
The next morning, Lu Sheng returned to the secluded valley where he trained. The forest glistened with the aftermath of rain; dew hung heavy on every leaf and blade of grass, dripping softly into the damp earth below.
After removing his outer robe, he stepped into the clearing and steadied his breath. His mind fell into stillness. Then, drawing on his inner reserves, he activated both the Black Fury Skill and Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill at once, channeling his Qi into both arms.
As before, a tremendous force began to surge within him—building, vibrating, demanding release. His muscles quivered under the strain as he fought to contain it, the energy roaring beneath his skin like caged thunder.
Veins of blackish-red began to creep across his arms, winding around his flesh like coiling serpents, from wrist to forearm, layer upon layer—traces of the violent power he sought to master.
Lu Sheng stood motionless, his breath steady as he worked to stabilize the surging tide of inner Qi. The energy thrummed within him, fierce and alive, but under his control—barely. It was around twenty percent of his total Qi, no more. Any further, and his body would begin to undergo a transformation. This state, unique and volatile, was something he had only begun to master after breaking through Level Three of the Black Fury Skill.
Once the raging current of Qi settled, Lu Sheng exhaled softly and struck forward.
“BOOM!”
A burst of white Qi exploded from his palm, rippling through the air before vanishing in the blink of an eye. The brief flare was enough to shake the ground beneath his feet. Its transience only proved one thing—the speed and explosive force of that instant had reached a terrifying level.
‘This move packs tremendous power,’ he thought, flexing his trembling fingers. His arms were weak and numb, the price of such intensity. ‘But my body can’t withstand it for long. Three times in quick succession—that’s my limit. Any more, and I’d tear muscle and crack bone.’
He inhaled deeply, adjusting his stance. Then, switching the saber to his other arm, Lu Sheng gripped the hilt tightly and channeled Qi once more. Both Black Fury Skill and Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill flared to life, intertwining like fire and wind.
“SWISH!”
A thunderous tiger’s roar blended with a sharp crane’s cry as his blade descended. The massive tree before him split cleanly in two, its upper half crashing down with a heavy thud.
‘Ten percent strength,’ he mused, his eyes narrowing as he studied the result. ‘The burst of speed and might surpasses the Black Fury Skill alone by far.’ He paused, then smirked slightly. ‘Let’s call it Tiger Roar & Crane Song Saber. A fitting name for a technique that decides victory in a single instant. But… it’s only good for a brief fight. Three strikes, and my body will give out. My Qi is already drained by sixty percent.’
The exhaustion that followed confirmed his thoughts. The move was devastating—but costly.
Satisfied with his testing, Lu Sheng sheathed his saber and sat down beneath the split tree. Reaching into his robe, he drew out the jade hairpin he had taken from Scarlet Decks, letting the cool surface rest against his palm as he began to study it once more.
Lu Sheng retrieved the jade hairpin from his waist pouch and held it gently in his palm. At once, a faint chill seeped through his skin—threads of Yin Qi whispering into the air around it.
The hairpin was a deep purplish-black, its body translucent under the soft light. One end was adorned with delicate plum blossom engravings, each petal carved with exquisite precision, while the pointed tip shimmered like clear glass.
‘This jade hairpin… the craftsmanship is extraordinary,’ Lu Sheng thought, turning it in his fingers. ‘But the Yin Qi is far too dense. Otherwise, it could have made a fine gift. Purple jade like this costs a fortune.’
He held the hairpin steady, then bit down on his index finger until a bead of blood welled up. Tilting his hand, he let the droplet fall onto the jade’s surface.
“Szzz…”
The blood hissed as it touched the jade. In an instant, a swirl of faint, misty smoke coiled upward, cloaking the air in a pale haze.
Lu Sheng brought the hairpin away from his face and blew gently. The haze dispersed, revealing streams of cold Qi rushing from the jade into his palm. The energy coursed up his arm like liquid frost, spreading through his body before vanishing into his core.
‘Deep Blue!’ he commanded silently.
At once, a luminous blue frame materialized before his eyes. Lines of light flickered across its surface, and a small dialogue box emerged:
“Begin martial arts extrapolation?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
The frame pulsed once. This time, a new option appeared—“Modify”—glowing faintly beside every martial art listed within the interface.
‘As I expected!’ His heart stirred with excitement. ‘The Yin Qi gathered is finally enough to extrapolate all martial arts!’
His eyes locked onto one name—Black Fury Skill.
‘All my strength stems from this technique. I have to elevate it… perfect it. And that unstable side effect—whatever disturbs my state of mind—must be eliminated.’
His gaze sharpened, tracing the glowing line of text.
‘…I wonder if I can extrapolate multiple levels at once with the knowledge I’ve accumulated.’
Focusing his will, he reached out mentally to press the extrapolation button. But just as his intent touched it, a thought surfaced—an unease flickering through his mind. He hesitated, lowering his hand, and began to study the description that appeared beside the skill.
Black Fury Skill: Level Three. Special Effect(s): Fire Poison.
Lu Sheng’s eyes lingered on the glowing words. ‘So now there’s even a special effect listed… Fire Poison, huh?’ He frowned slightly, his thoughts deepening. ‘Still, I can’t afford to be reckless. The last time I advanced to Level Three, it took half a year before my body stabilized again. That means my current physique can’t yet withstand the immense surge required for another breakthrough.’
He took a slow breath, the cold morning air steadying his mind. ‘To reach a realm that takes others decades, in one leap... it demands a buildup beyond my body’s present limit. I need to wait. No haste now.’
With that decision, he exhaled and dismissed the Deep Blue Modifier, watching the glowing frame fade into nothingness.
Standing in the middle of the clearing, Lu Sheng reviewed the techniques imprinted in his mind—Yin Yang Attraction and Green Pine One-Thought Formula.
‘The Green Pine One-Thought Formula clashes with the Qi in my body. It’s incompatible—I can’t even sense the flow, let alone reach the Initiation level. But Yin Yang Attraction… that one might work.’
He settled into a cross-legged position, excitement faintly stirring in his chest. Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath and began to circulate his Qi following the Yin Yang Attraction mantra. His thoughts sank inward, his will guiding the internal flow of energy with care and precision.
The Yin Yang Attraction was unlike ordinary martial arts. It focused on harmonizing the two primal forces already present within the human body—Yin Qi and Yang Qi—refining them through balance rather than conflict. The text claimed that by achieving perfect equilibrium, the body would become immune to illness and enjoy great longevity. Judging from its tone and phrasing, the art’s creator was most likely a physician rather than a warrior.
In truth, it was more fitting to call it a life-force cultivation method than an inner Qi technique. The Qi it generated was merely a byproduct—a natural consequence of balancing Yin and Yang within the body. Its true purpose was renewal and fortification, not combat.
The difficulty lay in mastering dual circulation: guiding two opposing flows with the same mind, each moving along separate meridians, each requiring control so fine it bordered on impossible.
Lu Sheng had never attempted this before. But now, having trained in channeling two inner skills simultaneously—Black Fury Skill and Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill—he found the entry point almost instinctively. His breathing slowed, his thoughts quieted, and within moments, he slipped into a tranquil, focused state, the rhythm of Yin and Yang beginning to take shape within him.
In truth, the so-called Yin Qi and Yang Qi could not be perceived through will or sense. They were not tangible energies, but symbols—names given to two opposing yet interdependent forces flowing within all life.
As the human body produced Yin, it simultaneously birthed Yang. The two wove together in perpetual balance, sustaining harmony and life itself.
Lu Sheng carefully recalled the theories from the ancient booklet, allowing the concepts to sink deeper into his consciousness. His mind quieted, his breathing slowed, and the world around him faded into stillness.
He sat cross-legged in the open clearing, perfectly motionless. From time to time, a rabbit darted past or a squirrel scurried by, yet none dared to come within ten paces of him. It was as though an invisible beast occupied that space—one whose presence stirred instinctive fear in lesser creatures.
Ever since breaking through Level Three of the Black Fury Skill, such scenes had become commonplace. The energy emanating from him no longer felt human; it was primal, oppressive. It reminded Lu Sheng just how extraordinary the Black Fury Skill truly was.
Time slipped away unnoticed.
After what seemed like an eternity, a faint pulse stirred in his abdomen—subtle at first, then steady, rhythmic. The wisp of Qi crept upward along his meridians, brushing past his kidneys, rising toward his heart.
‘It’s there!’ His pulse quickened, excitement flashing in his chest. The sensation was fragile—ephemeral. One lapse of focus and it might vanish entirely.
Without hesitation, he called out in his mind: “Deep Blue!”
The familiar Modifier screen materialized before him, shimmering faintly in the air. It still retained the surplus Yin Qi absorbed earlier; beside each martial art listed, the same extrapolation button glowed softly.
Lu Sheng’s gaze swept past the others, settling on one technique in particular—Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill.
‘Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill: Level Three Pinnacle. Special Effect(s): Rapid Hemostasis.’
Beneath it, a new entry flickered into view—its characters faint and unrefined, like the beginning of a blank page.
‘Yin Yang Attraction: Uninitiated.’
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and then Add to home screen.