Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Sui Chunsheng and Zhan Xinyue exchanged glances, showing strange expressions.

”Alright, since you’re fans, I’ve already made an exception and let you tour the place.” Liu Xingyu turned around, his demeanor returning to a strictly businesslike one.

”The explosion in the old city has nothing to do with us at Match-3 Puzzle. We pay over thirty million in taxes every year. There’s no reason for your Daoist Alliance to treat us like criminals.”

”What? You pay over thirty million in taxes?” Zhang Fan cried out in shock.

His outburst startled both Sui Chunsheng and Zhan Xinyue.

Even Liu Xingyu couldn’t help but glance at him oddly.

”Wait, this funeral home is that profitable?”

Facing everyone’s strange looks, Zhang Fan awkwardly said, ”I mean… are there really that many to burn?”

”We don’t just burn people!” Liu Xingyu replied coolly.

”You can leave now.”

”When will the director be back? We can wait…” Sui Chunsheng said, voice tense.

”If you won’t drink the wine offered, you’ll have to swallow the penalty!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Liu Xingyu’s face darkened. He stepped forward, forming seals with both hands, his chest heaving violently like a storm being whipped up, a ghostly flame rising in his palms, surging forth in a massive red wave.

”Crimson Palace Separation Fire!?”

Sui Chunsheng’s face changed instantly; he recognized it at a glance.

Crimson Palace Separation Fire—a secret fire technique passed down from Zhenwu Mountain, a method to temper true flame within the Jiang Palace.

The so-called Jiang Palace, also called the Divine Residence, is the middle dantian of the human body, located at the Tanzhong acupoint in the chest, closest to the heart.

In the Daoist Family’s Five Elements, the heart belongs to fire.

Thus, cultivating the Jiang Palace makes it easiest to refine true flame—it’s basically a shortcut technique.

Rumble rumble…

Facing Liu Xingyu’s sudden assault, Sui Chunsheng didn’t react in time. Red light blazed before his eyes, the Separation Fire clear as day, the scorching shockwave curling his hair.

Whoosh…

Just then, a figure flickered—it was Zhang Fan who stepped directly in front of Sui Chunsheng.

Almost at the same moment, Zhang Fan’s hands swept wide, his left palm pushing Sui Chunsheng back, right hand fingers forming the Sun-Seizing Seal, then suddenly thrusting forward.

Buzz…

All faces changed dramatically. Their ears rang as a strange sound suddenly erupted, like a dragon’s roar, like a sword’s cry, piercing their eardrums.

”What is that…”

Right then, Liu Xingyu’s eyes trembled; he saw Zhang Fan forming a seal with one hand, producing no visible phenomena, yet his Crimson Palace Separation Fire was being swallowed by an invisible shockwave.

In a fleeting instant, he felt the true yang inside his body vanishing at a terrifying speed, as if evaporating, his skin starting to crack, his hair yellowing and curling…

Then he felt the air around being scorched and sucked dry, leaving him unable to breathe.

Bam…

Finally, Liu Xingyu couldn’t endure it anymore. He staggered back several steps, pulling away from Zhang Fan, barely escaping a feeling like purgatory.

”Daoist Fire Technique!?”

Liu Xingyu’s expression grew grave; he stared hard at Zhang Fan.

He had thought Sui Chunsheng was the leader among the three, but never suspected this silent, laconic man was the true hidden expert.

The Daoist Fire Technique, too, has its levels—just as swordsmanship varies among masters.

Though Zhang Fan showed not a hint of flame in his hands, Liu Xingyu was certain this was the Daoist Fire Technique, and a truly profound one.

”Is the Fire Dragon Pill Sword really that wondrous?”

Sui Chunsheng stared, dazed, at Zhang Fan’s back, face filled with astonishment.

He’d witnessed Zhang Fan use it once at the Zhang Family’s Old Mansion, but this time seemed altogether different.

As a Great Skill and Pure Yang True Inheritance, even he couldn’t see through the mysteries of the Fire Dragon Pill Sword.

”No wonder you came so fearlessly, bringing a true expert along.” Liu Xingyu said, gritting his teeth.

”First, we’re only conducting routine inquiries, not bringing charges.” Sui Chunsheng shook his head.

”Second, if we were that fearless, you wouldn’t be standing there now.”

As he spoke, Sui Chunsheng pointed to Liu Xingyu’s feet. Liu looked down and his face changed dramatically.

Three scorch marks—like burns, like sword slashes—intertwined, deeply etched in the ground, trapping him in the center.

This technique sent a chill of terror through Liu Xingyu’s heart. His gaze at Zhang Fan trembled involuntarily.

”You really are an expert. I admit defeat.”

Liu Xingyu clenched his teeth, slowly withdrawing his gaze from Zhang Fan, unwilling to meet his eyes again.

”Come with me, then.”

With that, Liu Xingyu turned and led them to a nearby room.

”This is our corpse burners’ lounge. Have a seat.”

Liu Xingyu’s attitude softened quite a bit; he gestured for them to sit.

Turns out the fist really is the final say.

”The director really isn’t here? That old man just now…”

”What old man?” Liu Xingyu cut off Sui Chunsheng.

”The door guard.” Zhan Xinyue chimed in.

Liu Xingyu raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pair of siblings, then shook his head.

”We… don’t have a door guard here!”

With those words, the lounge fell eerily silent.

”Who is this in the painting?”

Just then, Zhang Fan’s voice came over. He hadn’t joined their conversation, his attention drawn to an ancient painting on the wall.

Desolate mountains, drifting clouds, a blazing sun in a clear sky. In front of an ancient Daoist temple, a Daoist in a great cloak, his figure nearly the size of the dilapidated temple—striking and unmistakable.

The painting’s tone was one of vastness and brightness, yet the Daoist stood as a shadow, yin to the sun’s yang, vying with the clear sky; the surging momentum seemed almost ready to burst from the painting.

So unique—even a single glance captured Zhang Fan completely.

”That… is…” Liu Xingyu paused, and his next words made everyone turn to look, faces shifting.

”Once the world’s number one expert—Three Corpses Daoist!”

”Hmm!?”

Hearing this, Zhang Fan couldn’t help turning. Why would Zhenwu Mountain’s own property enshrine an image of Three Corpses Daoist?