Perfected Chuhe led Xiaoyu along the pathways of the Medicine Garden, introducing the various herbs to him as they walked. "Qingming was originally born of water and wood twin elements, making it exceptionally conducive to the reproduction and growth of living things," Chuhe explained. "Later, Patriarch Huangyun passed away in meditation here, bestowing upon this domain a Great Dao of Jianmu that transformed Jia Wood Life-Mystic into Jianmu Life-Mystic, elevating its might once more. Because of that, this Medicine Garden is now merely a hair's breadth behind the sect's main mountain. Given time, surpassing it is by no means impossible."
Xiaoyu naturally expressed deep admiration. He then took out the pill recipes written by Xu Henshui and showed them to Perfected Chuhe, sincerely inquiring what medicinal ingredients ought to be used and what age of efficacy would be most suitable.
These pills were meant for mortals, and the strongest among them were only in the Body Casting realm, so the herbs' potency could not be too high. Even so, each pill had to be vaporized into medicinal mist and dissolved in strong liquor before it could be administered. Every single pill had to be diluted across at least three hundred mortals to prevent accidents.
Xiaoyu certainly harbored no desire to compare himself with Chuhe. It was common knowledge that both Chuhe and Yu Zhizhuo possessed unusual dharma idols; both were rare support-type idols, not suited for combat. In the Palace of Grand Beginning, there was no shortage of skilled duelists, whereas top-tier support idols like theirs were the rarest of all, earning them immense respect. Furthermore, the former Hall Master, True Monarch Huangyun, had long concluded that Chuhe was a man of blessed fortune—though unsuited for battle, his future Dao path would be exceptionally smooth.
Noticing that it was already midday, Perfected Chuhe said, "Since you are here, Nephew, you must stay for a meal before you go. This old Daoist's clear-broth herbal hotpot, paired with snowflake guinea pig slices, is an absolute delicacy!"
Xiaoyu could hardly brush off an elder's goodwill. Besides, for those who had stayed in Qingming for a long time, fellow disciples were not treated like ordinary sect members. Thus, Xiaoyu nodded in agreement, and Perfected Chuhe promptly ushered him into his quarters.
The disciples had already prepared a pot of clear herbal broth, and the old Daoist brought out several jars of his own fine home-brewed liquor. Unable to decline, Xiaoyu took a bite and found the food truly sublime. Eating and drinking in equal measure, a flush soon rose to his cheeks, and he found himself surprisingly light-headed.
Perfected Chuhe chuckled. "This wine of mine—not to brag, but it is the crystallization of many years of painstaking effort! It is built upon the recipe for Immortal Mountain monkey wine, refined through numerous iterations, and infused with several varieties of rare centuries-old herbs. An ordinary dharma idol cultivator would collapse after just one pot. For you to drink three pots in a row, Nephew, speaks to your prodigious capacity!"
By now, Xiaoyu's thoughts were drifting, his emotions hovering on the brink of slipping out of control. His tongue felt slightly thick as he said, "No, I can't drink anymore. People in Yong'an City are still waiting for medicine..."
Perfected Chuhe laughed. "No need to rush. It isn't an acute disease. After taking the medicine, it will take at least a dozen days to root it out anyway. There is plenty of time to get to work after finishing this pot."
Xiaoyu still felt somewhat uneasy. "There are quite a few afflicted, and people have already died. I should head back early. If Martial Uncle doesn't mind, I will circulate my Dao power to disperse the alcohol."
The old Daoist sighed. "What a waste of my good wine..."
Before his words finished echoing, a cold, clear voice rang out from above: "You have only just formed a dharma idol, yet you drink yourself into this state in broad daylight—where is your sense of propriety? Have you no need to consolidate your dharma idol? Have you no need to purify your Dao power?"
Xiaoyu looked up and saw a female sword immortal hovering in the air, cold as ice. Her sword intent was as pure and crystalline as an ancient glacier.
Xiaoyu barely had time to ask, "Who are you?" before Perfected Chuhe beside him flew into a rage. Eight resplendent immortal swords cleaved directly toward the airborne female sword cultivator as he barked, "What villain dares to trespass into the forbidden grounds of Qingming?!"
The female sword cultivator glanced at the eight swords, her frosty face turning mocking. She sneered, "Such toys dare call themselves swords?"
A layer of sword light instantly rippled outward from her body, knocking away all eight of Perfected Chuhe's immortal swords; two of them even dissipated mid-flight. Perfected Chuhe gave a cry and fell flat on his back.
Xiaoyu was shocked and hurried to support him, shouting in fury, "Running wild on the grounds of the Palace of Grand Beginning—you must have a death wish!"
The female sword cultivator said indifferently, "I showed mercy. Otherwise, all eight of his swords would have shattered."
Xiaoyu's brow furrowed. Behind him, a radiant sun rose, and Star Lord Shaoyang manifested once more. True Fire of the Sun condensed in his hand into an immortal sword, its light instantly stretching a hundred fathoms as it cleaved down toward her head.
A spark lit up in the female sword cultivator's eyes. "Now that is a sword!"
A sword-bearing celestial maiden appeared above her head, swinging a blade to block Shaoyang's strike, though the impact drove her back several fathoms. Star Lord Shaoyang also took another look, commending her: "To withstand a full-force blow from me, you are indeed extraordinary, young woman."
Since his descent, this was the first time Star Lord Shaoyang had uttered a coherent sentence.
From that single clash of swords, Xiaoyu finally recognized her origins. "You are a disciple of the Sword Palace?"
"The Sword Palace's Shangguan Qianmo! Well? Does that ring a bell?"
Xiaoyu was taken aback, then grew somewhat embarrassed. "Isn't the grand ceremony canceled? What are you doing here?"
Shangguan Qianmo said coldly, "I traveled ten thousand li to the Xiao family, only to find you had already fled. You couldn't even wait seven days, abandoning the matters we had agreed upon. I wanted to see what important business could possibly drive you to discard basic courtesy and your promises. And when I rush all the way here, what do I see? The prestigious heir of the Xiao family, dead drunk at noon."
Xiaoyu retorted, "Stop talking nonsense! I have official duties to attend to and came to ask my martial uncle for assistance. What is wrong with sharing a meal at noon with him?"
"Official duties? A few hundred mortals with mild fevers and headaches, not even a plague or grave illness—this is the important duty you speak of? You have disappointed me too greatly."
Xiaoyu's expression darkened, but for a moment he had no retort. Having left Qingming for so long, he naturally did not grasp the significance mortals held for Wei Yuan. He had merely observed everyone else taking mortal matters very seriously and followed suit, running errands and exerting himself. When it came to greater significance, upon closer thought, it truly held little relevance to his path toward immortality.
While he struggled for a reply, Perfected Chuhe scrambled to his feet. Pointing at Shangguan Qianmo, he cursed, "You venomous woman! Hundreds, thousands of human lives, and you brush them aside so lightly? How disciples of the Palace of Grand Beginning conduct our affairs—when was it ever the Sword Palace's place to dictate to us? You have merely cultivated for longer, piling up your cultivation with time. Hmph! You look young, but you might even be older than this old Daoist by a few years. Perhaps I should be calling you senior sister!"
Shangguan Qianmo's face turned livid with rage, killing intent instantly surfacing in her eyes. A speck of sword intent poised at the center of her brow, ready to strike.
Yet the moment that sword intent emerged, several strands of bone-chilling killing intent locked onto her. It made her instantly aware that if she unleashed this strike, it was uncertain whether the old Daoist would die, but she herself would perish beyond doubt.
Remembering Wei Yuan's godlike methods earlier, Shangguan Qianmo felt a chill, assuming he was pulling strings from the shadows again. Only then did she refrain from unleashing the blade; otherwise, the old Daoist's head would have likely rolled.
Even so, her fury burned hotter. Sword immortals were direct and outspoken by nature, and she snapped, "Xiaoyu, you reneged on your promise to my Sword Palace just to drink and boast with this old rog—old Daoist?!"
She stopped short of saying "rogue," but the old Daoist had no intention of letting her off. Stiffening his neck, he sneered, "What, curse if you want to curse! Aren't sword cultivators supposed to be frank and outspoken? Seems to me that isn't quite true. There are plenty of cowards among you, stammering and holding back even when insulting someone! Were you about to call me a rogue? A piece of trash? A weak chicken?"
Xiaoyu's face darkened instantly. Old Daoist Chuhe had worked conscientiously in Qingming for many years, and Xiaoyu respected him deeply, still addressing him as Martial Uncle despite sharing the same realm. He could not tolerate an outsider casually humiliating him. In the eyes of orthodox disciples of the Palace of Grand Beginning, an insult to a fellow sect member was an insult to oneself.
Shangguan Qianmo frowned slightly. Though thoroughly provoked, she understood the bigger picture and forced down her rage, saying coldly, "I never said that."
Yet unexpectedly, the old Daoist scoffed, "I bet you wouldn't dare!"
Xiaoyu's expression changed. Those words were practically an invitation to a life-and-death duel. He could not stand by and let Perfected Chuhe come to harm, so he rose to his full height, preparing to step into the fray.
No matter how refined Shangguan Qianmo's temperament was, a surge of vicious anger rushed straight to her crown. If she swallowed her words now, she would truly be a coward, and her luminous sword heart might be clouded.
Her brows arched, phoenix eyes blazing with authority, and she pronounced each word deliberately: "Then I shall say it: Trash! Weak chicken!"
Just then, a terrifying, suffocating majesty descended upon them, instantly pinning everyone in place. Even Star Lord Shaoyang was forced back! This pressure was far beyond anything the Scenery Command realm could wield—it was the resplendent might of an immortal!
An enraged voice echoed, shaking them until their vision went black:
"Weak chicken?! Why does what's weak have to be a chicken?!"
Shangguan Qianmo struggled to turn her head. On a nearby tree stood a palm-sized, fiery-red little chicken, glaring fixedly at her. Both of its eyes were bloodshot, and a single feather on its head stood straight up like a furious battle pennant.
Seeing Shangguan Qianmo look over, the chicken grew even more incensed: "What's wrong with chickens?! Did I eat your family's spirit rice?!"
Chapter 821