Wang Yu couldn't keep his composure. "Then why did you say that?"
Li Yunxiu pursed her lips into a smile. "You seemed a bit frightened, so I wanted to help you relax."
Neither the Wang Yu of this world nor the Wang Yu who had crossed over had ever witnessed someone being killed with their own eyes. No matter how many times one saw such things in movies or on television, confronting it in person was an entirely different experience.
Although Wang Yu had recovered his composure with surprising speed and adapted remarkably well, Li Yunxiu's sharp senses had still caught his unease, prompting her attempt to ease his mind.
"Well, thank you so much!" Wang Yu curled his lip. "I'd rather relax in a different way, though."
Zi Ling asked curiously, "What way?"
"Ahem." Wang Yu coughed dryly twice. "Like eating a huge, delicious meal, for instance."
Li Yunxiu gave Wang Yu an appraising look and smiled faintly. "We only set out this morning. Once noon comes, we'll find a decent eatery. Besides, you've just acquired internal force, and circulating it takes a heavy toll. You do need a hearty meal."
...
Calm returned to the journey as the carriage rolled onward. Wang Yu finally had the time to properly examine his golden finger and the legendary internal force.
The tortoise shell still hovered silently within his sea of consciousness. While he could look at it whenever he wished, it had ceased glowing and gave no response after absorbing the medicinal power and rewarding him in turn.
Then came the *Flowing Fire Reflection*.
As a martial legacy from a Xiantian Grandmaster, Wang Yu believed this technique was bound to be formidable.
Li Yunxiu had previously explained the realms of martial arts to him. Ordinary martial artists merely tempered their physical bodies, accumulated internal force, and practiced martial forms. All of these fell under the Houtian realm, to which the vast majority of Jianghu figures across the world belonged.
Beyond that, however, were martial artists endowed with exceptional innate talent, keen intellect, and profound comprehension. Whether through meticulous study of their techniques or the enlightenment of artistic conception, they could channel the power of heaven and earth to refine their physical vessels, evolving from Houtian into Xiantian.
At that stage, their dantian qi seas, meridians, and sinews all exhibited subtle differences from those of ordinary martial artists. Their internal force flowed ceaselessly in an endless cycle. Under normal circumstances, they feared neither group skirmishes nor wars of attrition, earning the rightful title of Xiantian experts.
As their grasp of intent deepened, granting them unique insights and understanding that coalesced into an independent system and philosophy, even standard Xiantian experts could no longer stand against them. At that point, they were revered as Xiantian Grandmasters.
As for whether there were higher realms beyond that, Li Yunxiu had not told him. It would have served no purpose for him to know anyway; she had only shared this much because his supposed father was a Xiantian Grandmaster, and ignorance on that front would have been suspicious.
Returning to the *Flowing Fire Reflection*, it was said to comprise eight layers. Following the path laid down by its creator, mastering the fifth layer allowed one to advance to Xiantian, while achieving complete mastery of the eighth layer immediately made one a Xiantian Grandmaster.
Ten years ago, when Zhao Yu was sent to the capital as a hostage prince, he had only been taught the first three layers. After these were interrogated out of him, they were passed on to Wang Yu. Just now, guided by Li Yunxiu's internal force and the medicinal power, he had successfully mastered the first layer.
Yet, when Wang Yu took the Lesser Restoration Pill and activated the tortoise shell, it had not only adapted the first three layers for his personal benefit, but had also deduced the fourth layer of the *Flowing Fire Reflection*.
The circulation route for each successive layer held more variations and grew significantly more intricate.
With every layer gained, the internal force grew purer, and the speed of its accumulation quickened.
However, to progress further, one required an increasingly delicate and precise control over internal force to slowly scour the meridians. If one followed the wrong path or rushed ahead in haste, the least severe consequence was ruptured meridians and grave injury; at worst, internal force would run rampant, plunging the practitioner into qi deviation.
For this reason, martial cultivation was best undertaken while young. The younger one was, the more pliable and resilient the meridians were, offering far greater plasticity. Clearing and expanding all meridians early on laid an exceptionally sturdy foundation, raising one's future ceiling accordingly.
If one waited until old age when the body withered and the meridians set in their ways, no matter how refined one's control of internal force might be, there was nothing to be done if the meridians simply could not bear the strain.
Thus, Li Yunxiu's judgment that Wang Yu's future ceiling would not be very high was entirely reasonable.
With the tortoise shell, however, Wang Yu's innate constitution would improve in every aspect whenever he consumed potent tonic medicines. He had no need to worry about his foundation. Moreover, with the shell deducing techniques and imparting them directly to him, he had no reason to fear reaching a bottleneck either.
All Wang Yu needed to do was familiarize himself with the subtle manipulation of his own internal force and advance step by step.
Having only just gained internal force with Li Yunxiu's assistance, his circulation of the first layer's route was still somewhat halting, and his meridians were relatively narrow. He did not dare rashly attempt the circulation pathway of the second layer just yet.
In truth, he had already learned all four layers through the tortoise shell's guidance; his physical limitations simply prevented him from executing them for now.
As time passed, the speed and proficiency of his circulation would climb, and his control would become ever smoother. When that day came, mastering not only the second layer but even the third and fourth would be as natural as water carving a channel.
"That's enough."
Seeing Wang Yu's face flush slightly red, Li Yunxiu interrupted his cultivation. "One must know when to stop in martial arts. Overexerting yourself in circulating your energy will damage your meridians, doing more harm than good. Practicing for one to two shichen a day is quite sufficient."
Feeling a faint, distending ache in his meridians, Wang Yu obediently halted the technique's circulation. He thrust a hand forward; propelled by the flow of internal force, the strike unleashed a sharp gust of wind.
Noticing the excitement in Wang Yu's eyes, Li Yunxiu couldn't help but chuckle. "When Zhao Zheng practiced the *Flowing Fire Reflection*, he wielded a Fire Cloud Saber. You, however, felt that a steel saber lacked elegance, and chose to learn swordsmanship instead."
"What swordsmanship?" Wang Yu asked.
"The *Seven Forms of the Setting Sun*. This was a sword technique Zhao Zheng created specifically for you. It draws on the imagery of July's declining heat and the lingering glow of the setting sun. The sword style blends orthodoxy and deceit, balancing hardness with softness—truly a creation worthy of a Xiantian Grandmaster."
Speaking of this technique, Li Yunxiu couldn't help sighing with admiration. The Li family was merely a minor aristocratic clan; their ancestral martial arts, refined over successive generations, were only roughly on par with this single sword art.
Wang Yu rubbed his hands together. "When can I learn it?"
"Since you have stepped across the threshold of internal cultivation, you can learn it anytime," Li Yunxiu said with a smile. "Once we find a post relay or an official guesthouse to stay for the night, I will teach you the forms."
...
The rest of the journey passed without incident until the sun hung high in the sky.
Noon arrived quickly, and the convoy reached a small market town. Song Yong found a reasonably clean eatery, guided the carriages into the courtyard, and hailed the attendants to see to their needs.
Zi Ling drew aside the carriage curtain and stepped down first. "Prepare some clean, delicate dishes, and bring out some wine for the men so they'll have energy for the road this afternoon."
"Many thanks, Miss Zi Ling!" the guards chorused in gratitude.
Her instructions given, Zi Ling brought out a small wooden stool from the carriage and set it down. She first helped Li Yunxiu alight, then assisted Wang Yu.
Wang Yu glanced left and right. The eatery was fairly spacious, its main hall holding over a dozen tables. Most were already occupied by passing travelers and merchants, along with two tables of people dressed as Jianghu figures who were warily observing their group.
Wang Yu's eyes shifted, and he frowned. "Can a rustic tavern out in the wilderness like this produce anything fit to eat?"
Li Yunxiu and Zi Ling both turned to glance at him.
*Settling into character already?*
Li Yunxiu took Wang Yu's arm. "When traveling abroad, matters naturally cannot compare to the comfort and convenience of home. Please bear with it, Husband. In a few days, when we arrive home, all will be well."
Resisting the urge to lean in closer and rub against her, Wang Yu escorted Li Yunxiu to a table by the window. Pointing at the grease stains on the table and bench, he addressed the nearby waiter with a flat face. "Wipe this clean."
The waiter hastened to comply, pulling the rag draped over his shoulder and rubbing with all his might until the wood gleamed glossy and immaculate.
Wang Yu let out a sigh and shook his head before finally helping Li Yunxiu into her seat. He then took the seat beside her and gestured to Zi Ling across the table. "Tend to Madame properly."
"Yes!" Zi Ling gave a slight curtsy before taking her seat.
Between the luxurious attire, the overbearing grandeur, and the escort of imperial soldiers, the timid patrons dared not even look, while the bolder ones only stole covert glances from the corners of their eyes, not daring to stare directly.
Song Yong, leading the ten imperial guards, shared two tables with Elder Yan.
They had naturally witnessed Elder Yan's martial prowess, but since the old man was disguised as a coachman, they could not make their deference too blatant. Thus, they could only gather around him with cautious yet warm hospitality as he sat down.
The waiter raised a tray and served large bowls of cold tea to quench everyone's thirst.
"Have some first, Old Sir." One guard offered a bowl of tea to Elder Yan, while two others saw to Song Yong's comfort. Three men were securing the carriages and supplies, and the remaining four couldn't wait to lift their bowls to quench their thirst.
Wang Yu looked down at the three bowls of tea on his own table. The porcelain bowls were chipped and coarse, the liquid murky.
Seeing Zi Ling about to serve the tea to Li Yunxiu, Wang Yu stopped her. "Do we have a teapot and teacups in the carriage?"
"We do!" Zi Ling nodded.
"Do we have fine tea leaves?" Wang Yu asked again.
"We do as well!" Zi Ling nodded once more.
"Since we have our own pot, cups, and fine tea, all we need from this shop is hot water. Why should we drink such swill?" Wang Yu tapped his fingers on the table, raising an eyebrow.
Zi Ling: "..."
She was Li Yunxiu's maidservant, hailing from an aristocratic family in the Jingji Circuit. While she was knowledgeable and experienced, she was hardly pampered or extravagant, having never truly moved in the most lavish, decadent circles.
Wang Yu's sudden display genuinely caught her off guard.
Li Yunxiu cast a profound look at Wang Yu before turning to Zi Ling. "Why haven't you gone to fetch the tea from the carriage?"
"Right away!" Zi Ling answered hurriedly. Throwing an astonished glance at Wang Yu, she gathered her skirts and hastened out to the courtyard. Though her pace was brisk, her footing remained steady and composed, reflecting the rigorous upbringing and refinement of a great household.
With Wang Yu's declaration, the four guards who had raised their tea bowls quietly set them back down. The rest of the imperial guards dared not drink either, quietly waiting for Wang Yu's table to be served first.
A moment later, Zi Ling returned carrying a wooden box. From it, she retrieved a teapot, two cups, and a ceramic jar.
Opening the jar, she used a small copper scoop to measure two and a half spoonfuls of tea leaves into the pot. She then asked the waiter for hot water and poured it in.
*Whoosh—*
Steam rose, carrying an aroma that diffused through the vapor until it permeated half the eatery.
"Mm." Wang Yu nodded in approval.
Only after seeing the clear, bright liquor inside the cup did Wang Yu raise it to his lips.
Seeing Wang Yu satisfied, the imperial guards finally breathed a sigh of relief. Their expressions relaxed as they lifted their bowls, nodding to one another in silent toasts, preparing to drink.
"Elder Yan?"
A startled exclamation broke through the room, cutting their actions short. Turning around, they saw Elder Yan still leisurely sipping his tea, but his complexion had turned a ghastly, bruised black.
The guards at his table paled in terror, scrambling backward.
Li Yunxiu leapt over in a single bound, landing beside Elder Yan. The old man still seemed entirely unaware, merely asking in bewilderment, "What's the matter?"
Li Yunxiu pushed a bowl of tea before him. "Look!"
Elder Yan leaned forward to look. His eyes bulged, and he snapped his head up. "I'm..."
The words choked in his throat halfway through. His body had already stiffened into stone. Black blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, the light died from his eyes, and he pitched over, dead on the spot.
Chapter 4