Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 57: Chapter 57: The World’s Number One, Jiazi Demon-Vanquishing

a.m.

Hongfu Garden.

Zhang Fan had no idea how he’d gotten back; his head throbbed as if he’d blacked out from drinking, that searing sensation keeping him from falling asleep.

He felt utterly exhausted, but no matter what, he couldn’t drift off.

The feeling was like torture, tormenting him at every moment—embracing unity and guarding silence did nothing to still the strange awareness inside him.

Zhang Fan had never hungered for sleep like he did tonight, craving the tranquility of dreams.

He clutched his head, as though to crack it open and see what demons were at play within.

”There are two bottles of sleeping pills in my desk drawer. If you really can’t sleep, take one...”

Just then, Zhang Lingzong’s words from earlier in the day echoed in Zhang Fan’s mind.

Staggering, he stood up and went to Zhang Lingzong’s room, opened the drawer, and there, indeed, were two bottles of sleeping pills—the writing on the labels faded beyond recognition.

Ignoring the pain in his head, Zhang Fan opened one bottle, shook out a pill. Its surface was coated in gold leaf, just as Zhang Lingzong had said—it looked expensive at a glance.

No time for hesitation, Zhang Fan grabbed the water glass from the table, swallowed the pill in one gulp; a cool bitterness slid down his throat.

Soon, the drug began to work—his splitting headache slowly ebbed away...

His eyelids grew heavier and heavier; he collapsed onto the bed and sank into deep sleep.

Soft moonlight spilled through the window onto Zhang Fan, and just then, a wisp of black and white vapor flickered across his brow—intertwining, vanishing in an instant, as if it had never appeared.

...

a.m.

Bright Road, Yujing City—Jiangnan Province Daoist Sect Alliance.

Inside an empty office.

Cao Wushang lay on the icy floor. Though still breathing, his breath was thin as a thread, eyes closed, body stiffening already.

”Master, what’s wrong with Senior Brother Cao?”

At that moment, a Daoist child of twelve or thirteen approached, supporting an elderly Daoist who’d just finished examining Cao. The old man’s hair and beard were white as snow, but his eyes shone fierce and clear, a deep scar slashing across one cheek.

”His primordial spirit is gone,” Lou Hechuan said gravely.

As chairman of the Jiangnan Province Daoist Sect Alliance—and a master from White Crane Temple—he took one look and saw Cao Wushang’s plight for what it was.

The primordial spirit had departed—though the body remained, the best outcome would be a vegetative state; worst, the flesh would soon wither and rot...

”How could this be? Senior Brother Cao...” The Daoist child’s face changed, staring at Cao Wushang.

”Refining and nourishing the primordial spirit as medicine... Of course, it’s a Wuwei Sect technique!”

Lou Hechuan bared his teeth in a chilling smile.

”After the Jiazi Demon-Vanquishing, these bastards are crawling back from their graves.”

”Jiazi Demon-Vanquishing!”

At the mention of these four words, the Daoist child’s expression turned solemn—he’d heard the elders in the sect mention it since childhood.

A sexagenary cycle ago—sixty years back—a tremendous upheaval gripped the Daoist world.

Back then, before becoming Zhenwu Sect Leader, Chu Chaoran challenged the strongest man under heaven.

”The number one under heaven... the number one under heaven...”

”In a hundred years, perhaps only that man could bear such a title...” Lou Hechuan muttered, reciting the unattainable name, a heavy look shadowing his ancient face.

”Three Corpses Daoist!”

The forbidden name flashed through the Daoist child’s mind.

Sixty years ago, Three Corpses Daoist was hailed as the greatest master under heaven—some said he hailed from Wuwei Sect, perhaps even its Sect Leader.

On the East Peak of Mount Tai, Chu Chaoran and Three Corpses Daoist clashed—days and nights of magical combat, shaking heaven and earth...

In the end, only Chu Chaoran came down the mountain.

This battle was called the Jiazi Demon-Vanquishing. From that day, Wuwei Sect vanished from the mortal world; no members showed themselves again.

Now, sixty years have passed, and these devils have returned at last.

”Good, good, very good... This is a declaration of open war...”

Lou Hechuan grinned with yellowed teeth, his old face turning ghastly. He raised a finger—instantly a flame, small as a soybean, burst to life. The office temperature soared upwards.

Buzz...

Flicking his finger, Lou Hechuan shot the tiny flame onto Cao Wushang’s body, which blazed up instantly, leaving behind not the faintest whiff of decay.

”Since you entered the temple, Cao Wushang treated you well—why do you show not a shred of sorrow?”

Lou Hechuan now looked at the Daoist child by his side.

”The Ancestral Master once said, if flowers are likened to mortal affairs, then flowers and the affairs of the mortal world are one. Life and death, bloom and wither, rain and wind—born at dawn, perish at dusk, perfect emptiness...”

The Daoist child hesitated, then bowed his head and said, ”Life and death are impermanent. If I cannot see through the attachment to life and death, how can I cultivate the Path of Supreme Forgetting Emotions!?”

At this, Lou Hechuan shook his head.

”Sun and moon appear and vanish without end—supreme forgetting emotions is not heartlessness. Cling to this thought, and you fall into a demonic haze.”

Sighing, Lou Hechuan patted the Daoist child’s head.

The Daoist child fell silent, lost in thought, turning Lou Hechuan’s words over in his mind.

”Later, take Wushang’s ashes back to White Crane Temple—but before that, detour to Maoshan and fetch two [Nine Demon Suppression Talismans]... Your little uncle’s injuries are likely to relapse again...”

At these words, the Daoist child’s expression changed subtly.

His little uncle had suffered a heavy wound years ago after a magical combat—it never healed fully. Every moonlit night, the injury returned, the agony unbearable—not only did he need elixirs, he had to rely on Daoist talismans to hold it in check.

”Master, how did uncle receive his injury?” The Daoist child couldn’t help but ask.

In Shangjing White Crane Temple, he chiefly tended to this little uncle—he’d seen the wound, horrific and raw. He’d asked after it several times, but his little uncle always stayed silent, unwilling to bring up the past!

”Ten years ago, he left Shangjing. After a magical duel, he was left with his condition,” Lou Hechuan replied blandly.

”Ten years ago!?”

The Daoist child’s eyes narrowed, then ventured, ”But ten years ago, little uncle had already reached High Rank... Who could wound him?”

Ten years prior, his little uncle was already High Skill level—to injure him so grievously that a decade on he had yet to heal, the adversary could not have been ordinary.

”You guessed right. He wasn’t a common master...”

Lou Hechuan’s countenance darkened; he shook his head with a sigh: ”What a pity I was far in the northwest back then, stretched too thin and unable to come in person to see that master who wounded your uncle...”

”Just what kind of master was that?” Intrigued, the Daoist child pressed on, unable to stop himself.

Lou Hechuan paused, gaze heavy upon the child. The old man’s brows trembled ever so slightly before he spoke—

”A child... a child about your age!”