“That’s alright, I can wait,” Chen Yunxi replied earnestly.
Lu Sheng looked at her for a long moment. Something within him stirred—softly, fleetingly. But the instant he recalled the road he had chosen, that warmth hardened into cold resolve.
“There’s no rush. You’re still young, and someday you’ll understand that choosing me isn’t a blessing,” he said, turning away. “I’m heading back. Think carefully when you get home. Don’t leave yourself with regrets.” With a brief wave, he hurried off. If he lingered any longer, he wasn’t sure what else Chen Yunxi might say.
Chen Yunxi’s jaw trembled as she shut the small box in her hands. She gazed at Lu Sheng’s retreating figure until it faded into the distance. At last, her eyes reddened, tears gathering despite her efforts to hold them back.
She had already done everything she could. Yet in the end, it still wasn’t enough.
The walk back left Lu Sheng’s heart in turmoil from beginning to end. In his previous life, a woman like Chen Yunxi would have been the very companion he dreamed of—gentle, sincere, and devoted. But his world had changed. And so had he.
Only after finishing dinner did the unease begin to settle. Returning to his room, he sat down and steadily calmed his breathing, slipping back into cultivation.
After practicing the Crimson Heart Mantra and battling Gongsun Zhanglan, every shred of his Blood Fury Skill had been converted into Ultimate Crimson Mantra, elevating his strength to the equivalent of Level Four Ultimate Crimson Qi.
He had spent ample time restoring his body and pushing Yin-Yang Jade Crane Skill to Level Four. Now, it was time to advance the Ultimate Crimson Mantra as well.
“Deep Blue.”
Summoning the Modifier, Lu Sheng watched as the familiar square frame unfolded before him. Blood Fury Skill had completely vanished. In its place shone the fourth level of the Ultimate Crimson Mantra.
Ultimate Crimson Mantra: Level Four. Special Effect(s): Fire Poison, Tremor, Incendiary.
Compared to Blood Fury Skill, there was now the additional Tremor special effect—even at merely the fourth level. It was unmistakably a superior mantra, a first-rate inner force skill. Lu Sheng nodded in quiet satisfaction. Every trace of Blood Fury Skill had been consumed; what remained was the refined might of Ultimate Crimson Mantra Level Four. His injuries were healed, and his body returned to proper balance. It was the right moment to advance further.
“Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill must also be cultivated. I’ll drain the remaining Yin-Yang Jade Crane Skill first, and tomorrow I’ll attempt initiation into that hard body technique.”
With his plan taking shape, Lu Sheng focused his gaze on the Ultimate Crimson Mantra option.
He had been stuck at the Spirit Focus level for far too long—Strength Proficiency, Intent Proficiency, Spirit Focus. Even Spirit Focus came in three tiers: low, middle, high. For him to overwhelm Gongsun Zhanglan so decisively, his Spirit Focus had already reached the Pinnacle tier.
And beyond that pinnacle lay the realm the old Sect Master once spoke of: Divine Prime.
To gather one’s entire spirit and Qi, condensing them into a single point, purifying them of all impurities, turning them into pure essence, and then feeding that essence back into the body—that was the near-mythical achievement known throughout the martial world as Divine Prime.
‘The Divine Prime realm involves the vague, elusive nature of one’s spirit. With no clear path to reach it, I can only accumulate as many powerful skills as possible. Quantity will eventually transform into quality. Even if I never step into Divine Prime, as long as my strength reaches far enough, even Divine Prime experts won’t be able to match me.’
As the thought settled, he pressed the Modify command within his mind. The Modifier flickered to life.
“Upgrade Ultimate Crimson Mantra to Level Five.”
The Modifier shuddered faintly, its edges blurring before sharpening once more. When the frame came back into focus, the Ultimate Crimson Mantra had already shifted from Level Four to Level Five.
A warm, supple thread of energy—both soft and resilient—began to circle slowly within Lu Sheng’s chest. After nine gentle revolutions, it suddenly surged downward into his lower abdomen.
“Hooo…”
His entire body trembled as the warmth dispersed outward, spreading through every meridian and limb.
He glanced back at the Modifier.
Ultimate Crimson Mantra: Level Five. Special Effect(s): Intensified Fire Poison, Double Tremor, Intensified Incendiary.
Success.
Turning his attention inward, he checked the Yin-Yang Jade Crane Skill. It had been drained to absolute emptiness, not a trace remaining. Judging from the sensation in his body, even that amount had been insufficient—his physical vitality had likely made up the difference.
“My body feels a little weak… too much was consumed. Cough… cough…” He suddenly fell into a harsh cough, his throat burning as if scraped raw.
Rising quickly, he hurried to the clothes cupboard and retrieved a small wooden chest. Opening one of its drawers, he took out a black jade bottle. Tilting it, he poured a single round, purple pill into his palm and placed it into his mouth.
‘Hope this works.’ The pill was a potent, nourishing medicine crafted using Blood Tree Flower as its core ingredient. After careful refinement, it had become a rare Yin-strengthening remedy.
Half a day later, the internal heat finally began to ease, settling into a manageable warmth.
“The lung’s Yin has been damaged. Even the slightest irritation triggers a cough.” With a quiet sigh, he accepted that his body would not withstand any further modifications for now. He would have to wait before attempting another breakthrough.
He lay down on the mattress, letting his breath deepen and steady. After the time it took for a joss stick to burn, Lu Sheng opened his eyes again and exhaled slowly.
It had already been half a year since he arrived in this world. In all that time, he had never dared to slow down—devoting every ounce of strength to cultivation and improvement, step by careful step. It was like treading upon thin ice, each advance fraught with difficulty.
He might be considered a significant figure within the Sect now—powerful even, when measured against ordinary mortals. But when he thought of the vast, still-unknown supernatural world, fear continued to coil inside him. That realm was far too perilous. Even some random, insignificant thing drifting out from it could force a normal person into a life of endless, desperate escape.
And that didn’t even account for the truly terrifying beings that wandered those shadows: ghosts, demons, devils, monsters, Noble Families, exorcists… every one of them wielded strength beyond imagination and danger beyond measure.
If not for the Modifier, his talent would have capped at Spirit Focus even after an entire lifetime of bitter cultivation—just like the old Sect Master.
“I’ll try to initiate into Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill again tomorrow. Time waits for no man, and this world is riddled with danger. One more hard body skill… is one more shield for my life.”
He had already mapped out the three paths he would focus on: hard body skills for defense, outer force skills for offense, and inner force skills as the foundation that tied everything together.
“Ultimate Crimson Mantra’s consumption is far too excessive. I need to significantly raise Yin-Yang Jade Crane Skill first so it can keep up.”
His thoughts shifted to the Blood Tree Flower’s medicinal effect. Its restorative potency was remarkable—on par with the stronger prescriptions he had taken before, yet far more affordable.
This month’s salary, combined with the dividends from Wu San’s old assets, totaled roughly thirty thousand taels in silver notes. And just three rounds of medicinal prescriptions had already emptied that sum.
As his cultivation deepened and every breakthrough demanded more resources, the toll on his body grew heavier. The nourishing herbs required for each advancement soared in both quantity and cost.
The usual prescriptions no longer had any effect on him. Their nourishing potency was far too weak. Only herbs with powerful medicinal strength could benefit the current Lu Sheng.
But such herbs were never cheap—they were painfully expensive. His expenses rose at an alarming rate. A single prescription dose barely lasted him for more than a couple of uses. Without the support of inner Qi—especially the restorative flow from Yin-Yang Jade Crane Skill—he would have no choice but to endure the lingering injuries and side effects caused by rapid advancements.
After taking the Blood Tree Flower pill, Lu Sheng focused once more on the Modifier. He carefully examined every skill he currently possessed, tracing their qualities one by one, before finally closing his eyes and letting his body settle into rest.
…………
In the abandoned village.
Late into the night, Lu Chenxin woke abruptly with an urgent need to relieve himself.
He opened his eyes into complete darkness. Even the shapes of the two others sharing the house with him were swallowed by the pitch-black room. Only the faint sound of steady breathing told him they were still there.
Outside, the silence was absolute. Lu Chenxin curled up on the thin mattress laid across the floor, trying to endure the discomfort.
“I really drank too much today. Tsk… should’ve expected this when drinking with that brat Tianyang.” Sleep still clung to him heavily, but the swelling in his lower abdomen had become unbearable. For a moment, he truly feared he would wet his pants.
“Tianyang? Brother Song?” he whispered into the darkness.
There was no answer. Not even a shift in their breathing. Both remained in deep sleep.
“Forget it. Your grandpa will go himself.” Muttering under his breath, he fumbled for his waistband, pushed open the creaking door, and slipped outside.
The night was bleak and filled with gloom. Only a dim wash of moonlight filtering through clouds gave him the faintest sense of direction.
“What’s this crap… everyone’s sleeping so damn soundly.”
With no other choice, Lu Chenxin stepped away from the mud-house. On both sides stretched empty grasslands and dense forests, pitch-black and utterly silent—not a trace of another soul.
“Come to think of it, this place is so secluded it’d be weirder if someone actually lived here. Forget it. I’ll just finish quickly and head back.”
A faint tremor of fear tugged at him. He cast hurried glances left and right before scurrying toward the corner where two mud-houses met.
He made sure no one was inside the nearest house. Then, crouching in the narrow gap between the two walls, he loosened his robes and waistband.
Hoo…
A cold draft swept sharply through the cracks between the walls, chilling his exposed backside. After a while, an uneasy feeling crept up his spine—like someone was standing right behind him.
“HOO!”
He jerked around violently. Behind him lay only the pitch-black stretch of grassland leading straight into the mountain.
“I’d better finish and get back to sleep!”
Turning back, he hurriedly focused on relieving himself with all the effort his small body could muster.
By the time he was done—long enough for a joss stick to burn completely—he slowly straightened up, rubbing his numb buttocks before fastening his waistband again. After adjusting his robes, he prepared to return to the mud-house.
Swish…
Suddenly, the crisp sound of water pouring cut through the stillness.
Lu Chenxin stiffened.
In the dead of night, within an abandoned village, the splash of water rang out unnervingly clear.
“Who’d be fetching water at this ungodly hour? The night water’s freezing cold… and well water’s even worse,” he muttered. Stepping out from between the two walls, he peered toward the central well, curiosity tugging at him.
From afar, he made out a silhouette—an entirely black figure standing by the well, tipping a bucket and pouring water straight back in.
‘This guy… did anyone in our group wear black?’ Even at a distance, the man’s back looked oddly familiar, though Lu Chenxin couldn’t recall where he had seen him before.
‘Could it be Uncle Zhao? No… Uncle Zhao isn’t that skinny. Or Sixth Uncle? But he’s not that tall…’
The strangeness unsettled him. He scanned left and right—there wasn’t another soul anywhere.
Szz… szz… szz…
The figure lowered the bucket again.
Curiosity gnawed at him. After thinking it through, Lu Chenxin decided he couldn’t ignore it. He ought to at least see who was restless enough to be drawing water at this hour.
With that thought, he began walking toward the well.
But he had barely taken a few steps when he noticed the figure haul the bucket up once more and then—
Swish…
The man emptied the entire bucket of water back into the well.
“HEY!” Lu Chenxin couldn’t stop himself from shouting. “It’s the middle of the night! What are you doing drawing water just to pour it back in? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
He hurried forward.
But the figure gave no reaction whatsoever, as though he hadn’t heard a single word. Once again, he hooked the bucket and slowly lowered it into the well.
Lu Chenxin felt irritation rising. Why wouldn’t this person even turn around when spoken to?
But the closer he got, the more something felt wrong.
The silhouette at the well wore tattered black robes that hung loosely over his thin frame. His hair was extremely long—so long and ragged it spilled down his back like a tangled waterfall.
Most unsettling was his back. Lu Chenxin couldn’t place it, couldn’t recall ever seeing this person before… yet something deep inside whispered that the figure was familiar. The contradictory feeling sent a shiver crawling along his skin.
‘What’s going on? I…’
He tried to force his legs to stop advancing, but curiosity dragged him forward anyway. He had to see who this was—this silent figure drawing water in the dead of night.
Szzz…
Another bucket rose from the well.
Lu Chenxin stepped closer and closer, but unease surged up from the depths of his chest. His heartbeat quickened into a frantic rhythm, yet his feet kept moving, carrying him toward the man bit by bit.
“You… just who—”
CHI!
A spark burst into life.
Pale yellow light filled the small room.
“Chenxin? Chenxin?”
Inside the mud-house, Lu Tianyang slowly set down the flint stone in his hand. Borrowing the glow of the oil lamp, he scanned the interior. Dawn’s first light was beginning to seep in, yet Lu Chenxin was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’d that brat run off to? Don’t tell me he snuck off to fool around with Xiuxiu?” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with a long yawn.
ns216.73.216.33da2
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