The Ice Pick Technique was a basic elemental spell for entry-level cultivators, but the one who had ambushed him from the shadows clearly had cultivation far surpassing Liang Yan’s. The ice pick now stuck in his abdomen remained condensed and unmelting, emanating waves of yin-cold qi that seemed to freeze the very blood in his veins.
Liang Yan gritted his teeth and scanned his surroundings. Under the dark night, the trees stood in shadowy clusters, with not a single figure in sight—clearly a cultivator skilled in the arts of concealment and assassination.
Realizing this, Liang Yan flipped himself over, suspending his upper body in a backward lean, propping his head with his left hand and arching his back with his right, assuming the “Dozing Posture.”
The technique circulated through his entire body, and within a ten-li radius, everything from great trees and boulders down to tiny flowers, grasses, insects, and leaves fell into his mind with not a single detail amiss.
Liang Yan clearly saw that behind a certain large tree, a tall young man was skulking there furtively, staring at him with wary eyes. This man was Chen Chong’s elder cousin—Chen Hu!
It turned out that Chen Chong had grand appetites. He had long planned to first collude with Tang Yan and Xu Kun to scheme against Liang Yan, and then have his cousin Chen Hu play the role of the oriole behind the mantis, eliminating Tang Yan and Xu Kun as well.
But Chen Hu was cautious by nature. Despite having cultivation at the third level of Qi Refining, he did not rush to act, instead observing from the shadows. Later, seeing that Liang Yan’s abilities were strange and peculiar, he reckoned that even if he struck personally, he would have no sure victory, and so made up his mind to ambush him.
Chen Hu had always been thin on familial affection; even witnessing his cousin’s death left him unmoved. Instead, he seized the moment when Liang Yan’s mind was most relaxed after just slaying a powerful enemy and struck with lightning speed, gravely wounding Liang Yan in one blow.
“This brat’s physical body is formidable—he’s definitely a body cultivator. I shouldn’t clash with him head-on.”
“He’s been hit by my enhanced Ice Pick Technique; the cold poison should now be penetrating his entire body. I just need to stay hidden and not give him a chance to sit and regulate his breathing. When he’s exhausted, I’ll deliver the killing blow! Hehe, then all their storage pouches will be mine.”
Chen Hu was scheming gleefully when suddenly his gaze flickered—he saw Liang Yan push off with his feet and charge toward him with great strides.
“Damn! Can this brat actually see through my hiding place!”
Liang Yan was extremely fast. Before Chen Hu could think further, he was already within three zhang. Chen Hu’s heart filled with terror as his hands flew through hand seals. Puff, puff—two ice pillars quickly condensed and shot toward Liang Yan.
Simultaneously casting two Ice Pick Techniques left Chen Hu’s face pale, but he still dared not be careless and floated backward to retreat.
Liang Yan did not dodge or evade. He charged straight into the two ice picks , merely shifting slightly to avoid his vital points.
Two more ice picks struck his body.
Liang Yan gritted his teeth and endured, stepping into a horse stance with his back arched, his left hand resting on his right arm as his right fist drove forward with all his might—precisely the “One Fist Posture.”
“Has this brat gone mad?” The thought flashed through Chen Hu’s mind.
He hastily formed hand seals to shoot another ice picks while simultaneously condensing a ice crystal before him.
Then the fist wind came howling—the ice pick and ice crystal both shattered like paper into flying shards. The fist’s momentum did not diminish in the slightest, slamming directly into Chen Hu’s chest, shattering even the protective inner armor gifted by his sect.
It entered through the front of his chest and exited through the back.
Chen Hu’s eyes bulged wide—dead beyond dead.
In truth, all beings say: “The countenance is born of the mind.”
But with the old monk, it was the reverse.
Liang Yan was inherently a cautious man, not one to easily risk his life in a desperate fight. Yet the moment he used the “One Fist Posture” against an enemy, his very body and mind were influenced by this dharma aspect, inexplicably giving rise to a sweeping arrogance that looked down upon the world and brooked no equal.
He felt that no matter how vast the world, it could not withstand this right fist. By the time he came to his senses, Chen Hu was already dead.
Liang Yan let out a long breath, sat down cross-legged, and quietly circulated the nameless formula to expel the cold poison within his body.
It was the dead of night, the sky pitch-black as ink, with scarcely a few stars visible. For Liang Yan, this night had been far too long. Since he had begun learning from the old monk, he had never crossed hands with cultivators before. Never had he imagined that the first time would see him surrounded by three attackers, then ambushed on top of that—every step fraught with peril. Though Liang Yan was mature beyond his years, even he could not help but feel a wave of belated fear.
“This place is deep in the mountains and forests, but many people came tonight for the auction. I’ve just fought a great battle—I fear attracting other interested parties. I’d better leave quickly.” With that thought, Liang Yan only hastily suppressed his injuries, then rose to collect everyone’s storage pouches and headed toward the town.
At the small town halfway up the mountain, within the Floating Cloud Inn, hurried footsteps echoed down the elegant corridor, stopping before a guest room. The door was pushed open, and in walked a youth of about ten, his face covered in blood, his expression weary.
This man was Liang Yan. He had just extricated himself from a fierce battle and spent the entire journey fraught with fear. Now, pushing open the door, he saw inside the room a gaunt old monk, sitting cross-legged beside a dim oil lamp, looking at him with concern in his eyes.
Only then did Liang Yan’s taut nerves finally relax, and a feeling of having survived a catastrophe washed over him.
“Good child, come here.”
“Mm.” Liang Yan walked over to him as bidden.
The old monk raised his hand and traced a circle in the air, then formed a hand seal and drew—and from the void, a golden lotus flower materialized. Its leaves unfurled gently, radiating a vibrant life force. It then spun around and, following the old monk’s gesture, drifted into Liang Yan’s body.
As the lotus entered him, Liang Yan felt a tearing pain spread throughout his flesh and blood, yet at the same time, all his injuries began to heal at a visible speed.
Liang Yan sucked in a sharp breath from the pain, bared his teeth at the old monk, and said, “Old monk, are you trying to save someone or slaughter a pig?” No sooner had the words left his mouth than he realized their impropriety. He must be muddled today—he’d gone and insulted himself along with it.
The old monk saw him acting so foolishly for the first time and guessed that he must have gone through a fierce battle tonight.
“How many did you kill?”
Liang Yan was startled, then answered: “Four.”
“Were they worthy of death?”
“Worthy!” Liang Yan replied without hesitation.
Unexpectedly, the old monk did not lecture him today. Instead, he nodded silently.
Liang Yan could not quite gauge his intentions and so said nothing. The lamp flickered; in the dim guest room, the old and the young fell suddenly silent.
After a long while, the old monk finally broke the silence, looking at Liang Yan and speaking slowly:
“Your fate with me has run its course. It is time for us to part.”
At these words, Liang Yan felt as if struck by lightning, frozen in place. His family had suffered a great upheaval, and had it not been for the old monk’s intervention, he would now be nothing but a pile of bones. In the year that followed, the old monk had taught him with great care. Though Liang Yan never said it aloud, in his heart he regarded the old monk as both teacher and father. Now hearing the old monk’s implication that they would part, his voice rasped as he asked:
“Why? Is it because my aptitude is too poor, that I’m rotten wood beyond carving?”
The old monk had said more than once that his spiritual roots were mixed and impure, his aptitude too poor—that he would need ten times the perseverance of an ordinary person to have even a sliver of a chance at attaining the Great Dao.
The old monk sighed and said: “It is not that. Though your aptitude is poor, your mind is sharp, you possess a good measure of wisdom, and your character is tenacious. In the future, you may yet break through to the Great Dao.”
“Then why, after all?”
“A foe I have been tracking has recently surfaced. In years past, this man and I crossed hands many times, evenly matched. In this coming battle, I have no sure victory. Whether I live or die from this journey is unknown. I truly cannot take you with me anymore.” He then gave Liang Yan a look of deep regret.
“What foe, so formidable? If you take me along, maybe—”
Before he could finish, the old monk raised his hand sternly and said: “Impossible!”
Liang Yan’s heart went cold. He knew that though the old monk was easygoing, once he had made up his mind, he never changed it. Thinking that after today’s parting, whether they would live or die was unknown, he could not help but blurt out: “Master!”
He then dropped to his knees and kowtowed three times, thump, thump, thump!
Though the old monk had never allowed him to call him “Master,” at this moment he did not correct him. Instead, he patted his head and said gently: “Good child, rise.”
As Liang Yan stood, the old monk suddenly formed a hand seal with his right hand and pressed it against Liang Yan’s dantian.
Liang Yan felt a sharp pain in his dantian, and his spiritual power began to churn uncontrollably. Then he saw a pearl the size of a ring emerge from his dantian—half black, half white within, with two colors of energy slowly circulating, and around it, a nebula-like mist.
Liang Yan was dumbfounded, and then he heard the old monk say:
“This is the object that caused the deaths of three hundred and thirty-six mortals in Huaiyuan Town, and the very thing Blind Yan sought. It is called the Heavenly Mystery Pearl. Its origins are quite mysterious, and I do not fully understand its specific functions. But one thing is certain: it can obscure the workings of heaven. With this pearl on your person, as long as one’s cultivation is not vastly superior to yours, none can detect your true level of cultivation.”
“When you were gravely wounded and unconscious back then, I intervened and scared off Fire Yama, seizing this pearl. Later, while you were still unconscious, I refined it into your body.”
Liang Yan was stunned for a moment, then looked at the precious pearl with a complex expression.
The old monk knew what he was thinking and said slowly: “How can divine weapons and sharp tools be judged as right or wrong? Grievances and affections exist only among men. This object brought calamity upon you, but in the future, it may also bring fortune. Fortune or misfortune—the key ultimately lies with you yourself.”
Liang Yan took a deep breath and nodded gravely: “Disciple takes this teaching to heart.”
The old monk looked pleased and continued: “You must keep this object safe and never reveal it before others. You must know—”
Before he could finish, a sudden change occurred. Liang Yan’s storage pouch began to tremble violently without warning, and from within it flew a wooden fish.
The Heavenly Mystery Pearl seemed to sense something and shot a beam of radiant light onto the wooden fish.
Crack, crack… visible fissures began to appear on the wooden fish, and finally it could bear no more and shattered apart. From within flew a mass of black qi, and within that black qi, a human face could faintly be seen, with horns upon its head and fangs in its mouth.
“Hahaha, that lecherous monk trapped me for a hundred years, but I’ve finally gotten out!” The face laughed uproariously the moment it appeared, then glared viciously at Liang Yan and the old monk. “Hmph, a mortal and a measly first-level Qi Refining brat—not even enough to fill the gaps between my teeth as blood sacrifices. But since I’ve just broken free, I’ll make do with you two!”
It opened its mouth and spat out a rolling tide of demonic qi that swept toward Liang Yan and the old monk.
The old monk frowned and was about to act. But the Heavenly Mystery Pearl moved even faster than the old monk—almost the instant the demonic qi appeared, it shot out a black-and-white radiance. The demonic qi, upon meeting the black-and-white light, instantly dissolved, and the face within the demonic qi fled as if it had encountered its natural enemy.
But the black-and-white light was even faster, catching up to the face in an instant and rolling it back.
The Heavenly Mystery Pearl spun round and round, dancing and circling around the face. Whether it was an illusion or not, the pearl gave Liang Yan the feeling of a lion inspecting its prey.
After a moment, the Heavenly Mystery Pearl quivered slightly, as if dissatisfied with its catch. It shot a black beam of light from within itself onto the face. The face twisted and struggled, then instantly turned to ashes, leaving only a faint wisp of demonic qi, which the Heavenly Mystery Pearl sucked in. Then, around the pearl, four black orbs of light appeared, slowly revolving around it. One of them faintly revealed the character for “Demon,” though its light was dim and vanished again in an instant.
Seeing this, the old monk raised his hand and formed a seal. The Heavenly Mystery Pearl spun around and flew back into Liang Yan’s dantian, disappearing.
The moment the Heavenly Mystery Pearl entered his body, Liang Yan felt a warm current arise from his dantian, then spread along his meridians to every limb and bone, filling his entire body with a pleasant warmth.
Suddenly, the old monk’s voice rang out like a clap of thunder: “Boy, your opportunity has come. Quickly compose your mind, circulate your technique, and prepare to break through to the second level of Qi Refining!”
At these words, Liang Yan’s mind sharpened. He immediately guarded his spirit, silently reciting the nameless formula. Waves of warm current surged from his dantian one after another, helping him cleanse the impurities from his meridians, and his internal momentum continued to climb without cease…
He did not know how long passed. Liang Yan slowly opened his eyes and let out a turbid breath. Outside the window, the sun was just rising, birds were beginning to sing, and a ray of morning light lay lazily upon his body. The old monk sat cross-legged opposite him, looking at him with a smile in his eyes.
“Peak of the second level of Qi Refining. Not bad.”