Opening the cover, he saw that the pages of Dao Cultivation Records were light yellow, giving off a faint musty smell. The calligraphy was neat and tidy:
"The way of water and fire lies in balance. Only by transforming water and fire into yin and yang can one master our sect's Ice-Fire Refinement Technique. Three years after entering the sect, I reached sudden enlightenment..."
*Cultivation again?* Zhang Yuanqing raised his eyebrows.
The last time he had seen such descriptions was in the Mountain God Temple, where the notes left behind by the shoulder-clinging resentful spirit mentioned some of his cultivation journey—respiration exercises, drawing talismans, and the like.
"Were the major professions in the Ming dynasty advanced through cultivation rather than relying on character cards? Or maybe it's just the Spirit Realm's background lore. People like Yinyang Sanren are all NPCs, just like Granny Wang and Widow Xu. Demon Lord took this path back then, and he probably killed them, but they respawned later—unless it can be proven that Yinyang Sanren actually existed in real history."
Thinking this, Zhang Yuanqing opened the laptop at hand, logged into the official database, and searched for "Yinyang Town."
However, aside from a handful of guides, there was virtually no information on Yinyang Town in the official database.
"Even Lady Sandao Temple is documented, yet a town settled by common folk isn't in the database? Is the organization useless or what? How did they manage that?"
Zhang Yuanqing cursed instinctively, then paused in surprise.
*Why did I suddenly get so irritable?* Zhang Yuanqing pondered for a few seconds before realizing: one of the drawbacks of the Yinyang Robe was emotional volatility.
"Whew, control yourself, keep it in check..." He took a deep breath. "Yinyang Sanren is a Ming dynasty figure, but he's already dead. From what I know so far, the only Ming dynasty powerhouse still alive might just be that old hag..."
He continued reading. Because it was written in traditional characters, his reading speed was somewhat slow. After reading for over ten minutes, he gained a general understanding of Yinyang Sanren's background.
He came from a sect named the "Water-Fire Sect." Its founding patriarch was an immortal figure from the Song dynasty. The sect held considerable prestige in the Central Plains, but its disciples were exceedingly few. It wasn't that the sect didn't want to recruit widely; rather, people with the aptitude for cultivation were too scarce.
Yinyang Sanren mentioned a concept: *The world underwent changes; those who can attain success are few and far between.*
"This is similar to what the temple master said—the mystery of a thousand years of rise and fall..." Zhang Yuanqing hurried to flip through the pages, but no matter how he searched, he couldn't find the reason behind the "changes in the world."
He couldn't help cursing under his breath.
Yinyang Sanren probably didn't know the exact reason either.
Additionally, Zhang Yuanqing noted that, by Yinyang Sanren's own account, disciples who managed to master the Ice-Fire Refinement Technique like him were rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns within the sect—the elite of the elite.
"Embodying both water and fire... in terms of Spirit Realm walkers, that means holding two professions at once. That's impossible among Spirit Realm walkers. If someone in the Five Elements Alliance possessed the abilities of two professions simultaneously, I definitely would have heard about it, unless it's a top secret. Was this anomaly caused by cultivation?"
He pondered as he continued reading the records.
"After mastering the Ice-Fire Refinement Technique, my cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. I reigned supreme in the Central Plains, then set foot in the Northern Territory, rarely meeting an equal. Later, I journeyed south to challenge the grandmasters of various sects, winning victory after victory. I heard of a fellow Daoist at Mount Sandao in Song Prefecture who was adept at summoning wind and rain, exorcising ghosts and subduing demons, and concocting pills and drawing talismans. Thus, I went to challenge her, only to return in crushing defeat.
"Depressed and dejected, I returned to my sect and informed my master of the matter. My master smiled and said: 'Your grandmaster met the same fate!'"
Mount Sandao... That had to be the old hag. It was definitely her. *Hiss, is that old hag really that powerful? If I run into her in a Spirit Realm trial in the future, I'll have to consider which kneeling posture shows the greatest sincerity...*
Zhang Yuanqing grimaced inwardly. A second later, he suddenly realized something was off and locked his gaze onto the four words: "Your grandmaster met the same fate!"
Did Yinyang Sanren's master mean: *Your grandmaster was beaten up by the old hag too?*
*Hiss.* The founding patriarch of the Water-Fire Sect was from the Song dynasty, and the old hag had thrashed him. That meant the old hag was absurdly old, and the identity of Lady Sandao was merely an alternate persona from her later years.
Zhang Yuanqing was forced to re-evaluate the old hag's true strength.
Minutes and seconds ticked by, and the pages of the Dao Cultivation Records grew thinner under his fingers. The subsequent contents consisted of Yinyang Sanren's reflections from his travels and cultivation, mixed with mnemonics for respiration techniques, meridian distributions, and so forth—none of which Zhang Yuanqing could make head or tail of anyway.
What surprised him was that during his travels, Yinyang Sanren had befriended people from both orthodox and evil paths. Yes, friends on the evil path referred to evil professions.
Regarding those friends from evil professions, Sanren's evaluation was: forthright, chivalric, living by a code of vengeance and gratitude.
"Yinyang Sanren doesn't look like someone with twisted values. Were the evil professions he met people like Auntie Xiao Yuan? Come to think of it, looking at most of his life, the orthodox and evil factions didn't seem entirely irreconcilable back then, unlike modern Spirit Realm walkers where hostile camps fight on sight, desperate to bash each other's brains out."
Zhang Yuanqing flipped the pages quickly, not particularly interested in the travelogues. Worth mentioning was that the Yinyang Robe had been obtained from an ancient tomb during one of his travels.
Ever since he obtained the Yinyang Robe, he had begun calling himself Yinyang Sanren, and he had gone to Mount Sandao once more to challenge the old hag.
Another crushing defeat.
From then on, Yinyang Sanren chose to lie flat, spending his days drinking wine, eating meat, and carousing with friends. When he encountered injustice, he would step in, and when he ran across corrupt officials, he would casually take their heads.
When Yinyang Sanren reached his old age, the guy began yearning for immortality, lamenting his ill fortune at being born in an era of great cataclysm between heaven and earth.
As he grew older, his obsession with immortality deepened. The Dao Cultivation Records ceased discussing cultivation and instead spent all its pages analyzing methods for immortality.
He had even entertained the thought of using the essence and blood of infants as a primer to refine an elixir of immortality. Fortunately, he reined himself in before crossing the line, but his obsession only grew stronger...
Reading up to this point, Zhang Yuanqing felt a chill in his heart.
Previously, he had felt that the drawback of the Yinyang Robe wasn't severe. After all, who didn't want immortality? It hardly seemed like a real drawback.
Seeing how Yinyang Sanren had craved immortality to the point of near-madness, he finally realized the gravity of this penalty.
One day, Yinyang Sanren heard that Lady Sandao had ascended to transcendence. Deeply shaken, he wrote in the Dao Cultivation Records:
"Even a peerless beauty cannot escape the passage of time. Alas, how tragic!"
After that, Yinyang Sanren established Yinyang Town, falling into an eternal slumber within his sweet dream of immortality.
The Dao Cultivation Records came to an end. *That's quite a lot of information...* Zhang Yuanqing pinched the bridge of his nose, sorting and digesting what he had gathered:
*The old hag is from a much older era than I thought, and her strength is terrifying! In the Ming dynasty, the relationship between evil professions and orthodox professions wasn't exactly harmonious, but it wasn't a matter of life-and-death combat either.*
*Ming dynasty professions advanced through cultivation rather than character cards.*
*If it's confirmed that Yinyang Sanren and the old hag were real historical figures, my understanding of the Spirit Realm will have to shift. But among the NPCs I know, the only living one is the old hag.*
*No, maybe I don't need to ask them directly. I have a way to verify it...* Zhang Yuanqing temporarily pushed the question to the back of his mind and put away the Dao Cultivation Records.
Next, he planned to test out his newly acquired skill—Astral Travel.
The instant this thought emerged, Zhang Yuanqing felt an inexplicable surge of restlessness, wishing to try it immediately, brook no delay, and let no one stop him.
***
In the north, the provincial capital of Yan Province.
In an upscale residential compound, a young man wearing an athletic headband sat sprawling nonchalantly on a high-backed armchair. Opposite him was a plush, spacious bed, upon which lay a middle-aged man with his hands and feet bound.
He had a bald head, a beer belly, and thick black hair across his chest. Sweat dripped profusely from his forehead, his expression filled with terror, and a thick towel was stuffed into his mouth.
The middle-aged man kept whimpering through the gag, his eyes full of pleading, as weak and pitiful as a puppy.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." The young man smiled amiably. "Look at you now. You really look like a dog wagging its tail and begging for mercy."
He stood up, walked to the bedside, and drew a sharp fruit knife from his waist.
"Mmm! Mmm!" The middle-aged man's struggles instantly turned violent.
"Be quiet. I speak, you listen!" A crimson glow flared in the young man's pupils.
The middle-aged man froze dumbly.
The young man sat by the bed, twirling the fruit knife, smiling.
"I, for one, despise punishing without teaching. Before I kill you, I'll explain my reasons so you die knowing why.
"First count: accepting bribes of power and sex, forcing women into prostitution. Second count: acting as a protective umbrella for organized crime, covering up murder. Third count..."
He spoke in a mild, gentle tone, listing over a dozen items in total.
By the time he finished, the middle-aged man on the bed was already stiff and motionless.
"Done already? Look at that—even your own conscience couldn't bear it." The young man patted the corpse's shoulder and said gently, "Don't be human in your next life."
He rose and left the bedside, walking over to the window. Pushing it open, he breathed in the nighttime breeze, looking down upon the city's sea of lights, and let out a satisfied sigh:
"The world just became a better place."
Human nature was ugly; a world populated by humans was filthy. Therefore, this world needed cleansing.
At that moment, his phone rang.
The young man pulled out his phone, pinching it between two fingers and dangling it high before his eyes. With his other hand, he tapped to accept the call:
"Silver Moon, what is it?"
"Demonic Eye, haven't you played enough? Return to headquarters immediately. The Palace Master of Halting Slaughter has killed a lot of our people in the Northern Territory. She's extremely adept at concealment—I need your eyes." The voice on the other end was loud and irritable.
"Watch your tone!" The young man smiled. "A mere Divine General dares to speak to me like that?"
"Watch your fucking mother!" The person on the other end grew even more furious, cursing loudly. "You Four Heavenly Kings are all out of your minds! The idiot ranked first screams about freedom all day long and is nowhere to be found. The second-ranked lunatic actually told me he wants to send a formal duel challenge to the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter, refusing to make a move unless she accepts!
"The third-ranked butcher just happened to enter a Spirit Realm trial. We Eight Divine Generals could slaughter that bitch ourselves, but we can't find her!"
The young man scratched his head. "Is that so? Fine. You know my rules: give me a reason to kill her first."
"Does killing require a reason?"
"Doesn't it?"
"...While hunting down members of our organization, she accidentally injured two commoners. Does that count?"
"It counts! I'll head over and butcher her right now."
"You're a fucking psychopath! Are you orthodox faction or evil faction? No, all four of you are fucking psychopaths." Divine General Silver Moon grumbled a curse, then changed the subject: "Li Xianzong is dead!"
"Hm?" Heavenly King Demonic Eye raised an eyebrow, the smile vanishing from his face. "What happened?"
"He ran into Yuanshi Tianzun in a trial and got butchered."
"Is that so..." Heavenly King Demonic Eye's smile returned, the corners of his mouth curving upward. "Then after I slaughter the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter, I'll go to Songhai to collect reasons to kill Yuanshi Tianzun."
***
Zhang Yuanqing floated upward, stopping less than ten centimeters from the ceiling. Looking down, he saw his physical body lying quietly on the bed, without breath, without a heartbeat.
*If I don't return within twenty minutes, my physical body will die completely.*
Gaining an instinctive understanding, Zhang Yuanqing promptly floated out of the bedroom at great speed, passing straight through the wall into the living room. His current state was wondrous; levitation and telekinesis felt like innate instincts.
This meant he could use items against enemies in spirit body form, such as wielding a knife or firing a gun.
Furthermore, the spirit body's power was Taiyin power. He could still cast Night Walk and Howl to the Moon, but he could no longer open his inventory. Overall, his strength was slightly inferior to his physical form.
The advantage was that in spirit body form, he was immune to physical damage, but he was exceptionally vulnerable to mental and spiritual attacks.
While pondering, Zhang Yuanqing drifted into his maternal grandparents' bedroom. The two elders were already fast asleep.
He altered his trajectory, drifted through the wall, and arrived in his aunt's bedroom.
Beside the window hung with pink curtains, his aunt stood silently in a flimsy nightgown, gazing out at the night scenery.
Tossed onto the nightstand was the black lace bra she had taken off, of no small size.
Jiang Yuer's head tilted almost imperceptibly. Suddenly stretching her waist, she muttered, "So sleepy. Bedtime, bedtime..."
Zhang Yuanqing watched her slip into the quilt and close her eyes. Her face was serene and delicate, plump and docile.
*Wonder which man will get to look at this sleeping face every day in the future...* Looking at his aunt's sleeping face, he thought: *A spirit body can possess people. Should I try possessing Auntie?*
On second thought, experimenting on family seemed improper. He immediately dove through the floorboards into the apartment below.
Living downstairs was a young couple residing with their parents. Just as Zhang Yuanqing passed through the floor, he heard the creaking of bedsprings and the muffled, rhythmic thumps beneath a thin quilt.
Looking toward the sound, he saw two bodies intertwined.
*Uh, bad timing. How am I supposed to possess anyone like this?* Finding himself spectating an adult film live, he had no choice but to give up.
Just then, the thumps abruptly quickened, then ceased. The undulating quilt stilled.
Then came the wife's complaint: "Why so fast again?"
"I've been working overtime lately, a bit tired."
"You said that last time too."
"Aiya, can you stop nagging? Let's sleep, I have work tomorrow."
*Bro, you need the Endurance Spray to reclaim your manhood. Since we're neighbors, I'd even give you a twenty-percent discount...* Zhang Yuanqing's spirit body floated upward, returned through his aunt's room, and this time headed with clear purpose into his uncle's home next door, arriving in the master bedroom.
His uncle and aunt-by-marriage were still awake. One was watching a variety show with a sheet mask on, while the other held a phone watching rap videos, occasionally tossing out single-rhyme bars under his breath.
"Look at this Yuanzi, eating piping hot steamed buns, looking all silly..." His uncle's head suddenly dipped, then jerked back up as he turned toward his wife, speaking with utter solemnity:
"I think we should treat Yuanzi better."
Without taking her eyes off the tablet, his aunt replied, "Aren't we already good to him?"
"I mean financially. We should give him more pocket money. Even though Mom gives him money, as his uncle and aunt, we ought to give more too."
"Oh. Then I'll give him a few thousand every month as well," she said casually.
"Auntie is so good... Ah, no, wifey is so good."
Auntie's attention wasn't on her husband, so she didn't mind the slip of the tongue. Staring at the variety show, she scoffed:
"Look at that younger sister of yours. All these years, all she cares about is making money. When has she ever worried about Yuanzi? She never goes to parent-teacher conferences, never cares about his studies, and when the fatherless boy was getting bullied every day at school, she didn't care either—you were the one who had to go cause a scene at the school! At the drop of a hat, she just throws a wad of cash at her son, thinking she's so impressive. Bah, that little bit of money of hers isn't worth crap."
His uncle looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Say a bit less."
*That's my mom after all.*
Auntie sighed:
"Look at Yuanzi over the years. He'd rather dance with you than take her money. When that boy first arrived, he was only in elementary school, walking on eggshells all the time. Whenever you weren't around, he would try to please me, terrified that I'd dislike him and he wouldn't be able to stay in this house.
"He was just as careful around your parents. Back then, he wasn't close with his grandparents yet, learning to live under someone else's roof at such a young age. Mm, I remember Yuer was like that when she was little too, which is probably why the two of them have been close since childhood."
Finishing her piece, she noticed the dim, sorrowful look in her husband's eyes.
"This doesn't seem like you at all." Auntie sensed something was off.
She thought to herself: *At a time like this, you should be dropping a stand-up routine, like: With an uncle like me to raise him, having a mom or not is just the same, oh just the same!*
"Sleep, sleep!"
His uncle put down the phone and pulled up the quilt.
***
The next day, wearing a mask and a peaked cap, Zhang Yuanqing arrived at the office.
Heading up to the second floor, he scanned the open office area and walked straight up to Guan Ya.
"Sister Guan Ya, let me ask you something."
Having already used diluted Life Essence to heal the injuries suffered in the trial, Guan Ya twirled a ballpoint pen nimbly between her fingers and chuckled:
"Do girls like it longer or shorter? Or thicker or thinner?"
Zhang Yuanqing said helplessly, "Don't be like that, I'm still just a kid."
Guan Ya blinked. "Did I say anything inappropriate? I thought you were asking about high heels."
Zhang Yuanqing cleared his throat, steering the conversation back on track.
"I heard from Xie Lingxi that the ancestor of the Xiahou family was among the first batch of Spirit Realm walkers. How long did he live? When did the first batch of Spirit Realm walkers appear?"
Chapter 141