Fei Luoya departed on the wind with his hands clasped behind his back, leaving behind a brisk silhouette. Li Qinghong had brushed him off with vague excuses, while Li Ximing and several other Foundation Establishment cultivators had simply shown up to lend weight to the occasion before scratching their heads and dispersing on their separate ways.
When Li Qinghong gathered her thoughts, only the hook snake remained. She looked over at Li Wushao, noting that his complexion was even worse than in days past. The wound on his tail hook had yet to heal.
"Fellow Daoist, is your injury serious?" she asked.
Li Wushao's tail hook had merely been grazed by that greyish-red flame, yet it still throbbed with a dull ache. The pain was exceedingly peculiar; it racked not only his physical body, but flared up again and again in his spiritual sense, tormenting him until his face was ghastly.
Seeing his plight, Li Qinghong offered her concern. Li Wushao waved his hand and replied, "Thank you for your concern, Milady... This flame should be Merged Fire. It joins body and mind, conjoins nature and soul, burning the flesh and marring the spirit, incinerating life and stripping away consciousness. There is nothing for it but quiet recuperation."
Pale-faced, he declined the medicinal pills Li Qinghong offered, politely explaining, "Against such a divine flame, ordinary pills are useless. Back in the Eastern Sea, many draconic beings sought to devour me. What they cultivated was Joined Water, a path similar to Merged Fire—a mere brush with either causes a wound to steadily worsen... I grew accustomed to it long ago and have some experience in coping with it, so there is no need to worry."
Looking pale and haggard, Li Wushao had no choice but to head down to tend to his wounds, leaving Li Qinghong to ride the lightning downward alone.
'Joined Water... Merged Fire... Lunar Yin... Solar Yang... they truly correspond one-to-one.'
Li Qinghong nodded thoughtfully. Within the golden natures, many divine statuses possessed clear-cut counterparts with traceable patterns. She did not yet know which lightning nature her own Lake of Mystic Lightning belonged to, prompting a flicker of curiosity:
'Mystic Lightning? Or the sought-after Firmament Lightning...?'
Shaking these thoughts from her mind, Li Qinghong descended to resume her secluded cultivation.
Roughly half a month passed. Fei Luoya's subordinate Zhu Xian had yet to arrive, but several figures finally appeared on the distant horizon. Clad in varied attire and travel-worn from the road, they were led by Li Xuanxuan, who stroked his beard as he rode the wind toward the mountain from afar.
"Granduncle!"
Li Xijun rode the wind to greet him. Li Xuanxuan nodded slightly, while Chen Donghe, An Zheyan, and the others behind him bowed. Li Xuanxuan appeared to be in good spirits, his aged voice carrying a warm tone:
"This trip of mine to the Great Xiukui Temple has truly broadened my horizons. Under the temple's seventy-two lineages, all kinds of ancient spells and ancient shamanic arts are vastly different from the techniques of today."
He drew several talismans from his storage bag. They looked a murky grey, inscribed with a few runes in white strokes. Li Xuanxuan said with satisfaction, "These are all ancient arts—methods to condense talisman water, dispel pain, cure illness, and the like... They can be passed down to Embryonic Breathing cultivators, which will be wonderful for treating the common folk."
With a wave of his hand, the others dispersed. Li Xijun led him down, and as the old man set foot on the ground, he was still talking about the uses of the talismans in his hand, smiling cheerfully.
Yet Li Xijun watched as those aging eyes swept across the surroundings. Catching sight of the white hemp draped all over the mountain, every trace of joy vanished in an instant, replaced by a flicker of shock. The smile drained from the old man's face, and he fell utterly silent.
Without uttering a single word, he followed Li Xijun to the graves. Collapsing onto the ground, he murmured to himself:
"Of course... It was about time... To have held on for so many years..."
His aged eyes stared from left to right. To the right stood the stele of his eldest son, Li Yuanxiu; to the left was that of his youngest, Li Yuanping. One was weathered, the other fresh, both standing tall. As Li Xuanxuan sat there, the tombstones towered a head above him.
Li Xijun quietly withdrew, stepping back all the way to the end of the mountain path before looking back.
The old man sat hunched between the two headstones, his legs sprawled in the weeds, the talisman still gripped unawares in his hand. His gaze was vacant as he stared blankly up at the sky, looking pitifully small.
Unable to bear the sight, Li Xijun lowered his head and walked away. Chen Donghe led a man up the path, dressed in an earthen-yellow Daoist robe with a rattan whip tied at his waist. Chen Donghe murmured:
"This is Senior Zhu Xian."
Li Xijun quickly pulled himself together. Though the poignant scene lingered in his mind, he had no time for sorrow. Forcing a smile, he greeted softly, "Greetings, Senior."
Zhu Xian was Fei Luoya's subordinate, possessing an early Foundation Establishment cultivation.
The lineage he practiced was rather poor; though he had formed an immortal foundation, he was inferior even to Li Wushao before the snake had regained his tail hook. What he had cultivated was Pure Elemental Wind formed from Minor Pure Spiritual Qi—thoroughly ordinary.
Even though his cultivation was far higher than Li Xijun's, he did not dare put on airs before him, merely saying softly, "My senior martial brother sent me to hand over the territory."
The territory under Fei Luoya and his partner was by no means small. Even after shaving off the barren fringes and corners, the actual area was still considerably larger than Eastern Shanyue. Li Xijun watched as he took out a map.
Zhu Xian remarked, "Over the past dozen years or so, this territory of mine has grown to a population of over fifty thousand..."
Li Xijun was momentarily struck speechless. For a territory of comparable size, his family's Eastern Shanyue had several hundred thousand people. With a population so sparse, it was only natural that the land yielded little harvest.
Li Xijun examined the map, ran a rough estimate, and said softly, "For Senior's territory, I plan to establish thirty towns. Taking into account the spiritual and earth veins across the land, we can designate one or two immortal mountains and establish a prefecture to govern three hundred thousand people.
"There are two large plains here, which can serve as the foundation for major towns... We can first set up villages along the two rivers and relocate people there."
Li Xijun spoke at length, outlining the arrangements from start to finish. Zhu Xian could only nod along submissively, unable to tell the good from the bad and failing to understand much of it. All he could do was brace himself and nod in agreement.
By the time Li Xijun had settled all the arrangements, it could hardly be called a discussion anymore. Zhu Xian had only one question:
"How much profit will it yield?"
Li Xijun calculated, "In seven or eight years, it can yield an annual profit of twenty to thirty spirit stones. My family will take forty percent."
Zhu Xian ran the numbers in his head and found it already satisfied Fei Luoya's demands. Greatly relieved, he waved his hand and said, "Then let us proceed as you say!"
Li Xijun then invited Li Xicheng up to discuss the details. Zhu Xian, unable to sit still any longer, had already departed on the wind to report back. Li Xijun asked:
"Elder Brother, how much savings does the family have now?"
Li Xicheng replied:
"Currently, our annual income is around sixty-odd stones. After deducting the tributes we must pay, we can save a little under a hundred stones every five years. Add to that the Wanling Flowers sold by Han Shizhen of the Han family, which brought in forty stones, our savings amount to roughly one hundred and thirty stones every five years.
"Since there have been no major expenses over the past decade, and after deducting several tens of stones in regular expenditures, we still have about two hundred stones."
"Two hundred stones is enough to set up two Qi Refinement formations... What is more, since we are building this on Fei Luoya's behalf, we can still squeeze some materials out of him."
Feeling confident, Li Xijun nodded and said softly, "The expansion will require Elder Brother's arrangements. We can have the Eastern Shanyue migrate westward and reassign the original dozen or so towns in the east under Lijing Prefecture. Elder Brother has a good sense of propriety, so proceed as you see fit."
"Do not worry," Li Xicheng answered steadily. He was neither hasty nor agitated, exuding a grounded aura of authority, though a tinge of grief still showed when his gaze swept past the white mourning garments.
...
After packing up his belongings, Li Xuanfeng stepped onto his flying shuttle. Bearing the golden bow on his back, he took two Ning family cultivators with him and drifted through the skies toward the Qingchi Sect. The two Ning kin were long accustomed to following him, introducing the various prominent clans across several commanderies along the way.
Both brothers belonged to a collateral branch of the Ning family and had served by Li Xuanfeng's side for over a dozen years, holding him in immense respect. Li Xuanfeng listened casually, having no inclination to linger. Flying straight through, he touched down amidst the Qingchi Mountains and instructed the pair:
"Go and summon them. Gather everyone who is heading to the Eastern Sea."
He waited in silence. Knowing the ways of the Qingchi Sect, those dispatched to garrison the Eastern Sea were mostly cultivators of modest talent. Aside from the Chi and Ning clans and the peaks belonging to Yuansu, Yuanwu, and Yuanxiu, disciples would commonly be assigned to the Southern Border, the Eastern Sea...
He waited for a time, having no desire to enter the mountains proper. Sitting quietly in a pavilion, he watched the mist drift over Mount Qingchi. Before long, a clamor arose as the two Ning kin led a group of cultivators forward.
The group of men and women were clad in azure Daoist robes, most of them at the Qi Refinement stage. Their faces bore the green innocence of novices fresh from the nest. Following behind the two Ning men, they chorused respectfully:
"Junior disciples pay our respects to the Daoist!"
Within the Qingchi Sect, a Foundation Establishment cultivator holding the position of Peak Master was addressed as Peak Master, while those without the title were addressed as Daoist—after all, in the Qingchi Sect, Foundation Establishment cultivators were not qualified to be called Ancestor.
Li Xuanfeng felt a subtle pang of novelty. In years past, his family had been deferential and obedient to the disciples of Qingchi Gate in all matters. When he had visited the Xiao family's Guanyun Peak all those years ago, even a menial servant of the sect dared to order the patriarchs of small clans around.
To think that the humble bow-bearing cultivator offering tribute back then had now become a senior figure to Qingchi disciples. Letting out a soft chuckle, he gave a slight nod.
Yet in the eyes of these Embryonic Breathing and Qi Refinement cultivators, Li Xuanfeng cut an exceptionally imposing figure. Clad in dark gold armor of exquisite design, fully outfitted in plate and cloak, his hawkish brow and black pupils gleamed with streaks of golden light. Complemented by the ferocious longbow strapped across the golden fabric of his cloak, he was the very picture of martial majesty!
Just standing there, he exuded the aura of a veteran general who had guarded the borderlands for decades. His voice was slightly raspy, his gaze sweeping imperiously to either side. To stare too long at that golden bow made one's eyes sting with pain.
"I heard this senior was born with divine strength and could grapple with tigers and wolves... He is a direct scion of a sword Dao lineage, yet he renounced the sword, relying solely on the golden bow in his hands... slaying demons across the Southern Border until they scattered like departing clouds."
The young men and women whispered among themselves, their voices dripping with admiration. Even as disciples of an immortal sect, attaining Foundation Establishment was far from guaranteed for them. Sect competition was fierce, and they were frequently assigned to distant garrisons. To become a figure like Li Xuanfeng was an extraordinary achievement in its own right.
Li Xuanfeng swept his gaze over them and saw that everyone was present. Only then did he tap the black-faced golden-beast belt at his waist and produce a jade ship.
The spiritual vessel was initially no larger than a thumb, but it expanded rapidly. Surging with emerald light, it grew into a great vessel over a hundred feet long, swaying gently in midair.
"The Evergreen Flowing Cloud Ship."
This vessel did not belong to Li Xuanfeng; Ning Wan had lent it to him for this journey. When she asked him and learned he had no flying conveyance, she realized that ferrying more than a dozen people across the State of Yue might prove overly taxing for him.
These days, she was nurturing a divine ability and in secluded breakthrough, so she had no use for it and lent him the transport.
The Qingchi disciples were accustomed to spiritual boats and showed little surprise, boarding one after another. The vessel was reasonably spacious. The two Ning brothers took the helm of their own accord, while Li Xuanfeng stood at the bow, looking down upon the cloud-swathed peaks.
'What a pity that I am escorting this group. I cannot delay for the moment and must complete the task at hand before I can visit home... Otherwise, traveling from here to the Salt Lake would have been a convenient chance to stop by.'
He watched the drifting mist as clouds rose and fell, light and darkness shifting across the landscape. Soon, they crossed Mount Quanwu and reached Libu Commandery. The elder Ning brother called out from ahead:
"General, Wubu Market is just ahead!"
Li Xuanfeng naturally understood his meaning: his grand-nephew Li Xizhi was supposed to be stationed here. Yet Li Xuanfeng was carrying a host of sect disciples, and stopping casually might invite misunderstandings. He could only say:
"Keep flying. No need to stop."
"Understood."
The two complied and continued to steer the spiritual ship, while Li Xuanfeng slowly regulated his breathing.
The cultivation art he practiced was the Golden Ray's True Edge Scripture, a third-grade art obtained from the Ji family years ago, originally cultivated by a branch of the Situ family. Compared to the core arts of the immortal sects, it was vastly inferior.
Although Ning Hemian had acquired a fourth-grade art from within the sect for him after he achieved Foundation Establishment—also centered on Chiseled Gold Stone and known as the Gold and Stone Ascending to Heaven Method, which could be cultivated to the peak of Foundation Establishment and notably accelerated his progress—his immortal foundation had already been forged. In terms of foundation purity, he remained somewhat behind those who had established their foundation directly through the Gold and Stone Ascending to Heaven Method.
Li Xuanfeng did not care much about this, however. He had already tempered his immortal foundation to its very limit; a little more or a little less made no substantial difference.
Chiseled Gold Stone was cultivated through the methods of Tangjin Gate. Its Qi could break formations, split mountains, and shatter enemy magical artifacts, excelling at piercing a broad defense from a single point. The more foes one killed, the more tempered it became by blood and vitality, growing ever more formidable.
And over the decades in the Southern Border, Li Xuanfeng had slaughtered more enemies than he could count! He had suffered numerous injuries in his earlier years, but after acquiring this spiritual armor, he had grown increasingly invincible. The number of Foundation Establishment cultivators of various sorts who had perished by his hand had long since reached double digits.
Within his Qihai acupoint, a chaotic expanse of golden-red light had formed, tempered the year before last to a state that could be refined no further. At least forty to fifty percent of his overwhelming confidence stemmed from this very sea of Qi.
'True Person Yuansu promoted me; likely he saw this as well...'
Through the events of these past years, Li Xuanfeng had gained a faint inkling of the truth. True Person Yuansu, Ning Tiaoxiao, needed someone exceptionally powerful among Foundation Establishment cultivators—someone capable of crushing petty riffraff—to handle matters that were inconvenient for a Purple Palace master to address personally.
Moreover, this Foundation Establishment cultivator had to be not only strong and loyal, but also barred from further breakthroughs, with weaknesses held firmly in Yuansu's grasp... and at critical moments, even willing to sacrifice himself.
True Person Yuansu was calculating and shrewd, having pushed his stratagem to the absolute utmost. He had read Li Xuanfeng's character through and through: not only giving a woman of his clan to him in marriage, but also placing Ning family members close to him—some as subordinates, some as peers... The Ning kin themselves were oblivious to this grander scheme and soon came to treat him with genuine devotion.
'He is, after all, an elder who has cultivated for hundreds of years... His methods are sublime... Requiring neither divine abilities nor spells, he can still hold people in the palm of his hand.'
Clad in the dark gold armor his wife had sought on his behalf, Li Xuanfeng stood quietly, gazing deeply at the setting sun dipping below the horizon before him.
"Boss, we've passed the commandery city!"
The elder Ning brother had a light sheen of sweat on his brow as he turned around and grinned, flashing a row of white teeth. The younger brother was more bashful, looking up at Li Xuanfeng with open reverence.
"Understood," Li Xuanfeng replied.
The two Ning brothers steered the vessel for him, calling him 'General' one moment and 'Boss' the next, thoroughly loyal. Li Xuanfeng was not easily duped; the brothers had followed him for decades. In the early days, he had suspected they were sent to spy on him, but after several occasions where the two risked their lives to save him, he had long come to regard them as his own people.
Now, as long as Li Xuanfeng asked himself whether he could ever abandon his wife and subordinates to their fate, True Person Yuansu's objective had already been fulfilled. Looking out into the distance, with his family, his wife, and debts of gratitude weighing upon him, he had no other path left to walk but to serve Yuansu.
Chapter 432