Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Five Thunders Righteous Technique, Transcendent Zhenren

Xia Weisheng, seventy-third generation successor of Zhenwu Mountain.

She was two years younger than Zhang Fan, yet she was the Zhenwu Sect Leader [Chu Chaoran]’s closed-door disciple, and also the youngest [High Skill] of Zhenwu Mountain.

”Senior brother, since you knew today is the Jade Scroll Transmission, how could you let outsiders into Qingwei Palace!?”

Xia Weisheng’s beautiful eyes narrowed lightly, her gaze like moonlight swept past Zhang Fan’s body, her pale jade nose lightly twitching.

”He doesn’t look like a good person to me.”

Zhenwu’s teaching passed on for seventy-three generations, following ordinary tribulation, ginseng appears in the later generations.

It was precisely because of the ancestral master’s verse that everyone on Zhenwu Mountain was particularly vigilant toward mundane outsiders.

What’s more, Xia Weisheng was this generation’s successor of Zhenwu Mountain, and tonight was the night of the Jade Scroll Transmission.

”There’s a reason for this... Junior sister, don’t worry, this... this layman has already passed the Initial Movement, endured the Dragon and Snake Transformation, so he’s not quite an ordinary person anymore.” Po Jie saw through Xia Weisheng’s thoughts and immediately whispered.

Xia Weisheng’s expression slightly softened: ”Senior brother, you don’t even know his name...”

”Ah, I still haven’t asked your name.” Po Jie turned awkwardly and looked at Zhang Fan, asking.

”Oh, my name’s Zhang Fan.”

”Mm, he’s called Zhang...”

Po Jie nodded, but halfway through, suddenly froze: ”What’s your name?”

”Zhang Fan... What, can’t I have this name?”

”Zhang Fan... Fan...” Po Jie’s brow lifted, mulling over the name, and his expression grew uglier by the moment.

”Ordinary tribulation? So you’re that destined one...”

Buzz...

Xia Weisheng whispered softly, her previously calm gaze suddenly sharp as a blade, violent wind exploded around her, her Daoist Robe snapping, arcs of dazzling light howled up from her palm, resembling rampaging thunder and lightning, wild and glaring.

”Five Thunders Righteous Method!” Po Jie’s expression darkened, and he shouted: ”Junior sister, don’t—”

Of the Nine Major Ranks of Manifestation, [Qi Worker] is merely circulating Spiritual Qi to strengthen the body.

Above that is [Technique Apprentice], who can comprehend and practice Daoist Magic; if one masters twelve Small Skills, the [Profound Master] title can be granted.

Something like [Five Thunders Righteous Method], a Great Skill, requires at least [Spirit Department] level to cultivate and control.

The small is called skill, the great is called technique.

Among Daoist Magic, Thunder Skill is the most difficult to cultivate, not to mention the most orthodox [Five Thunders Righteous Method], which only [High Skill]s like Xia Weisheng can wield with ease.

You have to know, even among High Skills, Po Jie had only grasped [Three Thunders Manipulation Skill].

Rumble rumble...

Arcs of light flickered, Thunder Qi slashed in all directions, raging fiercely between Xia Weisheng’s five fingers.

A terrifying aura spread from beneath her feet, tearing open cracks in the ground, the surging wind like a crazed wave sweeping the field...

”Humans can really cultivate to such a level?”

Zhang Fan raised his hand, shielding himself against the roaring tempest, Jiang Lai’s figure floating up in his mind.

She, too, was like this Xia Weisheng before him, wielding power ordinary humans should never possess.

”Junior sister, don’t—”

Po Jie stepped forward, blocking in front of Zhang Fan.

”Senior brother, I wouldn’t want to hurt you...”

Her indifferent words fell softly, arcs of light swept along the ground, stone and rubble flying in their wake, carving deep cracks...

”Three Thunders Manipulation Skill!”

Po Jie thrust out his right hand, middle and ring fingers bent, the other three fingers extended, forming the [Three Pristine Finger Seal]—one of the commonest hand seals in Daoist Magic...

It’s known that in Daoist Magic, many spells require the combination of hand seals, Gang Step, position, secret curses, and the like.

The Three Pristine Fingers—one of the most often used hand seals.

Buzz...

Three fingers conjured thunder, azure as the sky, but the arcs that rose were nowhere near as fierce as Xia Weisheng’s [Five Thunders Righteous Method].

In an instant, the two bolts of thunder crashed violently together, stone exploding from the ground, dust billowing high, and the terrifying shockwave sweeping wantonly through the air...

The next moment, a battered figure was blown out from the cloud of smoke, spinning through the air like a top, landing in a stagger—it was Po Jie...

His Daoist Robe split inch by inch, cruel arcs of lightning still crackling around him.

”East three, south two, north one, west four—these are the ancestors of number, and the center is five—thus called the Five Thunders Righteous Method...”

The leisurely words echoed on under the bright moon, the dust dissipated, and Xia Weisheng strolled forward, as if wandering a garden, dazzling arcs surging from her fingertips, emanating a terrible power.

”Senior brother, I stand invincible at the center, the grand trend boundless, the Five Thunders sweeping all... Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

Xia Weisheng’s voice was gentle, yet brimming with supreme confidence, towering as a mountain.

”Junior sister, you really dare say it...” Po Jie frowned, a bead of cold sweat slowly streaking down his brow.

”Senior brother, this one appearing here tonight—is no coincidence...” Xia Weisheng’s gaze shifted, falling upon Zhang Fan.

”Ordinary Tribulation... He is the destined one... The ancestral master’s Dharma Lineage cannot end in my generation.”

As her words landed, Xia Weisheng stepped forward, arcs in her fingers leaping wildly; in an instant, they twined about her entire body, an even more dreadful presence surging forth like a crashing wave...

”If you don’t let me through, don’t blame me for disregarding our brotherly ties...”

Xia Weisheng was totally unrestrained, a fierce light suddenly sparking in her beautiful eyes.

”Blessings of Infinite Life...”

Just then, an ancient, chanting voice echoed through the moonlit night...

In a blink, floating light sank into shadow, dust settled... even the lightning arcs in Xia Weisheng’s palms seemed to Return to the True and faded quietly away.

”Master!”

”Master!”

Xia Weisheng and Taoist Po Jie turned toward the voice, bowing deeply in salute.

Zhang Fan instinctively looked up, to find an elderly Daoist stepping on moonbeams out of the darkness, white-haired but child-faced, without a hint of immortal airs, more like a common field farmer; on closer look, he even seemed a bit familiar...

”Zhenwu Mountain Meditation Class, bone-fracture price, only 5880...”

Upon seeing the old man, a familiar voice suddenly rang in Zhang Fan’s mind.

”Holy shit, aren’t you the guy selling—”

”Step steady, live steady, young man, you be steady now...”

Before Zhang Fan could finish, the old Daoist arrived right before him, grabbed his hand, and kindly gave his advice.

”Show some respect... This is my master...” Po Jie glared, quietly reminding him.

Zhenwu Mountain Sect Leader, Chu Chaoran, the living fossil of the current Daoist Sect, and publicly acknowledged as a [Zhenren], his cultivation already reaching the Pure Yang Wuji Realm, not one whit lesser than Sanfeng Zhenren in his day.

”Chu Zhenren!?” Zhang Fan stared suspiciously at the old course-seller before him.

”Master, he...” Xia Weisheng stepped forward, warily watching Zhang Fan.

”I know.”

Chu Zhenren raised a hand, his profound gaze falling on Zhang Fan. He pondered for a moment before murmuring quietly.

”It is time, it is fate.”

”Weisheng, come with me to Zhenwu Hall... the auspicious hour for Jade Scroll Transmission draws near.” Chu Zhenren said calmly.

”And him...” Xia Weisheng pointed at Zhang Fan, asking.

”Po Jie...”

”Master...” Taoist Po Jie hurriedly approached.

”Take him down for now, and see to his arrangements.” Chu Zhenren’s eyelids lifted as he looked toward Zhang Fan.

”Master, where should we arrange for him?”

Chu Zhenren turned, Daoist Robe billowing, a deep whisper drifting from the night.

”Pure Yang Hall.”