Cihang Consecration

Before his palm even connected, the seal power Li Weiyi had condensed in front of his hand caved in the air and crashed downward. Bam! Lu Can's perception and combat experience were extraordinary. Even though plunged into total darkness, the tiger claw he lashed out with still collided dead-on against Li Weiyi's palm. Yet that terrifying force bore down once more. Lu Can felt his tiger claw and arm grow utterly numb, as though they no longer belonged to him. The next instant, a crushing palm strike slammed heavily into his chest. Pfft! Lu Can's three-meter-tall, tiger-like frame flew backward through the air. Before he could hit the ground and steady himself, Li Weiyi surged forward on glowing clouds of silver dharmic mist. Pointing a finger like a sword, he pierced straight through Lu Can's brow, shattering the skull behind it. This was Cihang Consecration from the Chan Sect's Twelve Loose Hands, an esoteric finger technique. When Li Weiyi executed the move just now, he had vaguely sensed the dharmic power in his right index and middle fingers wanting to intertwine and condense into a wisp of true force to shoot outward from his body. But due to a lack of follow-through strength, the finger force had failed to solidify into form. He secretly guessed that once he opened a seventh or eighth spring and the dharmic power within his body grew even more abundant, this technique would very likely undergo miraculous transformations. The trace veins extending from his Danzhong sixth spring increased to six. Hearing the rush of wind, Li Weiyi wheeled around and thrust out both palms, striking at two seven-spring martial cultivators swooping down with drawn swords. Behind him came a dull thud. Lu Can crashed down thirty feet away, blood and brain matter oozing from his brow. He never rose again. Crack! Crack! The blades in the two seven-spring cultivators' hands shattered. Li Weiyi's figure blurred, and in the blink of an eye, his hands gripped the head of one of them. A crisp snapping sound followed as the neck was broken. He flung the corpse directly at the remaining cultivator, who was left holding only a broken hilt. Catching the limp body of her companion as blood poured from his mouth, the seven-spring cultivator let out an involuntary shriek—perhaps having never taken part in such brutal slaughter before. Clinging to the corpse, she bolted toward the shore as if running for her life, her gasps choked with quiet sobs. From the sound of the cry and the silhouette of her frame, she seemed like a young woman. These two were most likely sect disciples! Li Weiyi could not be bothered to pursue her. He knew full well that tonight's situation was profoundly amiss; the City Defense Battalion was holed up and refusing to deploy, which was far beyond the influence of the Changlin Gang or Yang Yun. Having broken through the encirclement via the breach, he had no intention of prolonging the battle and charged straight toward Yang Yun. He would take back the Yellow Dragon Sword and leave immediately. Other dharma artifacts could be abandoned, but not the Yellow Dragon Sword. Yang Yun saw through Li Weiyi's intention and chuckled. Light as a swallow, he sprinted swiftly toward the silver-horned elk carriage on the embankment. "If you want the sword, catch up to me and it's yours! Stall him for ten breaths, and you can collect a hundred thousand silver coins from the Yang clan tomorrow!" His second sentence was directed at Murong Xiao atop the mast. "A profitable bargain indeed." Black wings unfurled from Murong Xiao's back. Grasping her ten-foot-long bow, she dove toward Li Weiyi as he leaped across the fishing boats in pursuit of Yang Yun. "Stall me for ten breaths? Do you have the strength for that?" Li Weiyi cast a cold glance at the swooping black shadow. Executing the Qingxu Cicada-Chasing Step, his feet tread upon silver clouds of dharmic mist. His body drifted three feet to the right before vaulting straight into the sky, reappearing directly above Murong Xiao. Previously, Murong Xiao had been too high up and far away to clearly see how Li Weiyi had repeatedly dodged her arrows. Now that she was close enough, she finally saw it. His footwork was far too elusive and bizarre—she could see it clearly, yet she could not evade it. Li Weiyi slammed a palm downward toward her head. Murong Xiao twisted her frame with every ounce of her strength, meeting his strike with a palm of her own. Boom! The overwhelming palm force sent Murong Xiao crashing straight down, smashing clean through a wooden boat. Inside the cabin, pots, bowls, and assorted clutter clattered noisily across the floor. Ultimately, Murong Xiao's high ranking in Seven Springs Hall rested on her unique advantage of flight and her giant dharma artifact bow. Stripped of those two advantages, her combat prowess was slightly inferior even to Yao Zhengsheng and Lu Can. Reaching the shore, Yang Yun vaulted onto the silver-horned elk carriage. Waving at Li Weiyi, who was still a hundred feet away, he laughed. "Want this dharma artifact war sword back? Why not follow me back to Jiuli City?" Crack! He lashed his whip. Stung by the lash, the silver-horned elk bolted forward in a frenzy. Such exotic beasts could directly inhale and exhale the laws of heaven and earth, dissolving the energy of law into their blood to continuously refine and evolve their physical bodies. "Think leaving is that easy?" Li Weiyi channeled his dharmic power, projecting it outward into gaseous form. The three-inch throwing knife Yang Yun had launched earlier—the one that had grazed Li Weiyi's neck, punched through twenty feet of wooden boat, and lodged itself deep into a thick mast—was instantly yanked into Li Weiyi's hand by his dharmic energy. In the next breath, he executed the flying needle technique he had practiced since childhood. With a sharp hiss, the three-inch blade cut through the water's surface and the dark night like a blazing speck of light. Two hundred feet away, the silver-horned elk let out a shrill, agonized bray as its skull was pierced clean through. The gilded carriage behind it hurtled off the embankment, tumbling over and over into the dirt. *** "How is this possible?" Yang Qingxi's fine eyes fixed on the shore. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that an obscure lad who looked like a mere servant could send three Top Hundred Martial Artists flying. Even with the aid of dharma artifacts, such martial prowess remained staggering. More critically, how could a Yongquan Realm cultivator who was neither a Pure Immortal Physique nor blessed with a prominent pedigree possess multiple dharma artifacts? Even figures of noble birth like Li Ling and Yang Yun possessed none. Too much of it defied reason, so it was little wonder that Yang Qingxi lost her composure. Yet stunning as Li Weiyi's performance was, which of the figures gathered here had not been dazzling in their youth? After that fleeting moment of surprise, their attention returned to serious matters. Grand Chan Master Yuzhen laughed. "Eldest Miss Yang, does a trifling matter like this suffice to make you lose your cool? What we are about to undertake is an earth-shattering affair to overturn the heavens. This poor monk now gravely doubts whether you possess the capacity to represent the Sui Sect." "Losing one's cool isn't scary. What's scary is losing control of one's bladder... ouch..." An untimely, brash, childish voice piped up. Shi Jiuzhai promptly delivered a smack, shoving the face of the foul-mouthed, gluttonous plump youth straight into his plate. He then offered an awkward smile toward the glaring Yang Qingxi. Were such things meant to be blurted out to someone's face? Yang Qingxi swiftly regained her wits. Refusing to lose her decorum before a den of wicked cutthroats and let herself be looked down upon, she said, "Speak. What is the identity of the person you brought, and how much credibility do his words carry?" Grand Chan Master Yuzhen, ever keen to shock, smiled. "Elder Li is a formidable figure ranked among the top ten of the Jiuli Clan. How dare a junior like you question him?" Yang Qingxi, Shi Jiuzhai, and the man surnamed Long all showed expressions of shock, their gazes turning in unison toward the mysterious elder swathed in a voluminous black robe. Grand Chan Master Yuzhen added, "Mount Coffin was able to bring Elder Li into the fold. May I ask you all: are we qualified to plot this grand undertaking together?" To rank among the top ten of the Jiuli Clan meant he was inevitably one of the nine great patriarchs or nine great priests. That was monumental indeed! Shi Jiuzhai slapped the table in admiration, laughing heartily. "Mount Coffin truly plays on a grand scale! To think even the highest echelons of the Jiuli Clan have been infiltrated!" The mysterious black-robed elder spoke in an even, tranquil tone. "This old man knows full well that the Jiuli Clan has long rotted from within and cannot possibly survive this calamity. Rather than having our clan annihilated by your hands, with the men reduced to slaves and the women to prostitutes, it is far better to adopt a curved path to preserve the clan. After this tribulation passes, the Jiuli Clan will at least not be wiped out entirely. In this way, I can face our ancestors above and our descendants below." Whether this Jiuli elder truly thought so or had been forcibly coerced by Mount Coffin no longer mattered to Shi Jiuzhai; he silently harbored deep admiration. Yang Qingxi and the man surnamed Long felt the exact same way. They did not think the elder surnamed Li was ridiculous; they only felt that Mount Coffin was terrifying. The mysterious black-robed elder said, "As for how much strength the Jiuli Hidden Gate still possesses, even this old man cannot say for certain. But I believe that if you rush into battle without clarifying this matter, the price you will have to pay will be far more than you can bear." "Does Elder Li have a way to locate the Jiuli Hidden Gate and determine their true strength?" Yang Qingxi asked. The mysterious black-robed elder replied, "Every year, the nine great tribes select one or several youths to send to the Jiuli Hidden Gate. The time to deliver them this year is already fast approaching. If you trust this old man, postpone the offensive. Wouldn't it offer far greater certainty to strike only after the Hidden Gate has been thoroughly scouted?" Yang Qingxi and Shi Jiuzhai suspected the elder might not be trustworthy and that this could be a stalling tactic by the Jiuli Clan. Their gazes drifted toward Grand Chan Master Yuzhen. Grand Chan Master Yuzhen was equally unsure whether this Jiuli elder could be trusted, so he looked toward the White-Robed Lay Practitioner. The White-Robed Lay Practitioner's appearance had shifted slightly once again compared to when she ate noodles yesterday, with only the string of blood-red prayer beads in her hand remaining unchanged. Her gaze remained fixed on the fight by the shore as she remarked in a light, leisurely tone, "Elder Li, bring out the person you intend to send to the Jiuli Hidden Gate and let everyone take a look." "Li Qing!" the mysterious black-robed elder called out in a low voice. From behind him stepped a tall, slender youth who looked about seventeen or eighteen. Clad in tight-fitting black robes, with sword-like brows and starry eyes, he showed not the slightest trace of unease before these gathered giants. The mysterious black-robed elder said, "Li Qing has already opened nine springs within his body. If he is sent to the Jiuli Hidden Gate, he stands a tremendous chance of becoming this generation's Divine Hidden One. Uncovering the secrets of the Hidden Gate will naturally be well within his grasp." "Opened nine springs? Truly?" Shi Jiuzhai was both curious and astonished. A nine-spring martial cultivator could be called a Perfected Person—an exceptionally rare breed whom figures of any cultivation level would regard with profound respect. At this moment, another change unfolded in the battle along the shore. The mysterious youth under siege had actually carved his way out of the encirclement and even struck down Yang Yun's mount, displaying terrifying ferocity. The prominent figures aboard the vessel were completely captivated by the battlefield over there, momentarily forgetting their discussion. Changlin Gang Chief Xu Changlin and Vice Chief Tang Yan arrived at the entrance of the main hall, requesting permission to fight. "Eldest Miss, the situation has changed! Young Master Yun is in danger—Xu Changlin requests permission to battle!" "Tang Yan shall surely decapitate that junior!" Yang Qingxi felt her face burning. What had begun as what she thought would be an entertaining show—one that could also demonstrate the Sui Sect's fearless influence in Jiuli City—had backfired disastrously, causing her to lose all face before the various factions. Just as she was about to dispatch these two Wuhai Realm experts to clean up the mess, the White-Robed Lay Practitioner's cool, faint voice drifted from outside the doors: "For such a fine spectacle, having the Wuhai Realm intervene would ruin all the fun!" She saw far more clearly than anyone else that the lad who had bought her a bowl of noodles had broken not his eighth or ninth spring, but his Danzhong sixth spring. That was something slightly beyond even her comprehension!