It was the eighth day since Qian Fan had entered the Cold Wolf Banner.
Qin Xuan woke beneath the gentle, warm rays of the sun. He had fallen asleep mid-cultivation, yet his mind felt clear and sharp, carrying the lingering impression of a dream.
In the dream, his head had throbbed with an awful ache.
Pine nuts had pelted his skull in an unending barrage from start to finish, striking with just enough force to sting without jolting him awake.
What happened?
He glanced back at the pine tree behind him, deciding that made no sense.
Turning his attention inward to examine his condition, he was stunned. He had already broken through to the seventh layer, the Qi Subduing stage. His spiritual power was remarkably refined and concentrated, more than twice as potent as it had been during the Qi Gathering stage.
This...
Qin Xuan drew a breath. Thinking it through, Old Daoist Wu had spoken the truth.
Advancing from Qi Gathering to Qi Subduing should have been a drawn-out process. But he had taken two Three Flowers Qi-Subduing Pills to accelerate the progress, while also heeding the old daoist’s advice to curb impatience and let nature take its course.
Adding the old daoist’s heart-calming incense on top of that had yielded such results.
Cultivating until one fell asleep—there was nothing more natural than that.
Even so, when subduing qi, one stoked the true fire of the human body to steam spiritual qi through every gate and acupoint, refining yin essence. That process was meant to stir up all sorts of stray thoughts, lewd fantasies, and even demonic thoughts.
Why didn’t I have any stray thoughts at all?
This doesn't seem right.
Qin Xuan once again took out Perfected One Jiuya’s Huachi Tongqi. No matter how he leafed through this guide to qi refining, nothing matched up.
Collecting excerpts from the Twelve-Storied Towers of various sects? That was the second time. He really had been boasting.
Just as Qin Xuan was grumbling about Perfected One Jiuya, he felt a sensation stirring within and released the fiend from his Taiyin acupoint. The moment the fiend emerged, it spun excitedly around him.
Qin Xuan observed it closely and noticed subtle changes in its form.
Realization dawned on him. "Did you eat the demonic thoughts?"
Sure enough, he received an affirmative response from the fiend’s consciousness, leaving Qin Xuan thoroughly astonished.
Fiends were originally born from inner demons and demonic thoughts. Most arose in the Nine Nethers or along the underworld’s Yellow Springs, places where yin spirits gathered and demonic thoughts teemed—a paradise for fiends.
When Qi Refining cultivators practiced, they relied on their techniques to bring their mind into resonance with heaven and earth, seizing spiritual qi to transform into their own spiritual power, which became magical power when cast as Daoist arts.
Yet how could the power of heaven and earth be seized so easily?
Demonic thoughts born during that process would devour the cultivator if left unconquered, turning them into a fiend.
Yet this Taiyin Soul Transformation Art transformed one’s own stray thoughts directly into a fiend, using that fiend to consume the demonic thoughts that arose throughout cultivation. Did this not mean that with the backing of this manual, inner demons would actually become nourishment for the fiend?
Qin Xuan stared at the puppy-like fiend circling him, deeply shaken.
Is this the supreme mental art of the Nine Nethers?!
At this thought, his motivation surged, and he could no longer sit still.
Geng Zhi possessed not only the complete tortoise-shell formation diagram of the Yunxiu Water Abode, but also maps to Patriarch Geng's remaining cave abodes. He was practically a walking treasure trove.
"Brother Geng and I still share a bond of destiny. I must go see him."
In this Nine Provinces world, calculating someone’s whereabouts by hand required communing with the Heavenly Dao. Even for those proficient in divinatory arts such as Ziwei Doushu, Da Liuren, or Taiyi Shenshu, it was exceedingly dangerous.
Qin Xuan feared Geng Zhi might suddenly leave Pingyuan Commandery, vanishing into the wide world, never to be found again...
He recalled the fiend, tidied his robes, and headed toward Pine Breeze Lodge, where Old Daoist Wu resided.
First, he wanted to glean news about Qian Fan’s disappearance to ensure he wouldn't fall prey to some hidden scheme.
Second, he wished to seek guidance on the secrets of the eighth layer of Qi Refining, the True Breath stage. The old daoist’s insights into cultivation seemed far better suited to him, proving far more useful than whatever records Perfected One Jiuya had left behind.
Retracing the winding path, he soon reached the summit of Yuansong Temple’s peak.
"Temple Head, Brother Crane, pardon the intrusion."
Qin Xuan bowed with clasped hands. Old Daoist Wu sat outside the door and nodded at him. Beside him, the white crane was sipping wine, already tipsy and swaying about with supreme self-satisfaction.
Spotting Qin Xuan, it invited him to sit and drink, but Qin Xuan politely declined.
Reading his expression, the old daoist had long since seen through the purpose of his visit. He set down the volume of Records of Great Demons of the Eastern Sea in his hand, lowered his brow, and said:
"On his way back to Fengling Temple, Qian Fan fell victim to evil cultists of the Mao Sect. The matter has passed, so focus on your cultivation in peace. Just avoid traveling by night when heading to Chuanlai Commandery in the future."
"Understood."
Hearing the touch of reprimand in the elder’s voice, Qin Xuan smiled bashfully.
To spare himself further scolding, he deftly shifted the subject and said respectfully:
"This disciple came to see you on a matter of cultivation."
Old Daoist Wu had roughly guessed as much. Just as he was about to retrieve a few more sticks of heart-calming incense, however...
Qin Xuan asked, "Dare I ask the Temple Head, what is the difference between ordinary breath and true breath?"
Surprise flickered in the old daoist’s mind. Without letting it show, he tucked the heart-calming incense back into his sleeve, gave Qin Xuan a searching look, and asked, "You have already subdued your qi?"
"Indeed."
Qin Xuan praised him sincerely, "Your Daoist scholarship is truly profound, Temple Head. Obeying your instructions to curb impatience and let nature take its course, I stirred wind and stoked fire within my body, condensing my spiritual power. The heart-calming incense was wonderfully effective as well."
Old Daoist Wu slightly raised a long eyebrow, studying him once more.
How many days has it been?
Recalling his own quiet cultivation in his youth, though he had amassed foundation for a great breakthrough, he had still fallen short of this lad’s speed.
Stroking the long beard beneath his chin, Old Daoist Wu said slowly, "Ordinary breath is something everyone possesses. As the root of ordinary breath, true breath is faint, deep, and slow. If you ask of their difference..."
After a moment's reflection, he shared his personal insight:
"Ordinary breath is like the rushing waters of a river stirred by wind and waves, while true breath is like spring water trickling from a crevice between mountain rocks."
Qin Xuan listened. After several breaths, his eyes lit up, as if a clear spring had begun flowing through his heart.
Old Daoist Wu was truly worthy of being the temple head; the truths he spoke far surpassed what the Transmission Elders within the sect could offer.
With just a single sentence, Qin Xuan’s mind cleared completely. Filled with admiration, he hurriedly said, "Thank you, Temple Head. This disciple understands."
Seeing this, Old Daoist Wu started to speak, then swallowed back the rest of his words.
He picked up the Records of Great Demons of the Eastern Sea again, lifted the cup of wine Qin Xuan had brewed, and fell silent, his thoughts impossible to guess.
Assuming the old daoist was seeing his guest out, Qin Xuan chose not to disrupt their leisure and bowed out with a smile.
Tipsy, He Wushuang spread its wings to detain him. "Zihou, your wine is truly wonderful! My drinking spirit has caught fire—let me perform a Crane Dance of Yudu for you!"
Without waiting for Qin Xuan to refuse, it thrust a cup of fruit wine into his hand, then hopped over beneath several old pines beside the path, swaying from left to right. Though called a crane dance, it looked more like someone throwing drunken punches.
Qin Xuan paid it no heed and bowed to the elder once more in farewell.
"Hey, Qin Zihou, you haven't told me how my dance looks!" He Wushuang shouted behind him.
Qin Xuan offered only his retreating back, downed the wine, and tossed the cup back. The bamboo cup landed squarely atop the white crane’s scarlet crest. Just as it was about to flare up, it heard the receding figure chant:
"A physique trained lean like a crane's,
Beneath a thousand pines, two boxes of scriptures.
I came asking of the Way, but nothing more was said:
Clouds are in the blue sky, water is in the vase."
He Wushuang’s drunkenness vanished instantly. Savoring the verse, it smiled with satisfaction.
"Who wrote this poem?"
Qin Xuan’s figure had already disappeared down the winding path, but his voice drifted back:
"If you think it's good, then I wrote it. If not, consider it Master Cai's."
Qin Xuan headed down the mountain.
The white crane stared blankly for a moment, then turned to see Old Daoist Wu also gazing in the direction Qin Xuan had gone. "Old Daoist, hasn't the Qin boy changed quite a lot?"
"No change."
The white crane grew suspicious. "Why do I feel he's somewhat different, especially his comprehension? You should trust the sharp intuition of a celestial beast from the classic mountains and seas."
Flipping a page, Old Daoist Wu said, "As the saying goes, 'In pursuit of learning, every day something is acquired; in pursuit of the Dao, every day something is dropped.'"
"The human mind is originally like a bright mirror; when dust and grime accumulate, it cannot reflect clearly. For those whose thoughts are blocked, fixations act like chains. Once unclogged, the dust and grime gradually fall away, and the mirror body shines on its own."
"Zihou was clever to begin with. With one part of fixation dropped, one part of heavenly principle is seen. How could his comprehension not increase?"
Knowing Qin Xuan’s past, He Wushuang found great reason in Old Daoist Wu’s words and refrained from debating scripture with him.
……
Shortly after Qin Xuan descended the mountain, someone delivered word to Elder Pan of the Enforcement Hall.
Elder Pan summoned Shen Yunfei and Zhou Cang, having them fetch Elder Luo, a man renowned for his fiery temper and unbending impartiality. Elder Luo had heard of Qin Xuan abandoning his duties without leave earlier, but out of deference to the temple head, no one had dared interfere.
Harboring resentment, he led a party to Qin Xuan’s courtyard, only to find it deserted.
Seeing no sign of Qin Xuan, Elder Luo immediately gave more credence to Elder Pan’s words and returned to the Enforcement Hall with an even greater fury.
Seeing his scheme succeed, Elder Pan dispatched Shen Yunfei and Zhou Cang to shadow Qin Xuan, intending to seize some leverage down the mountain to blow out of proportion upon his return. Even if it resulted in no severe punishment, it would provide Elder Lai of the Upper Court with an excuse to keep him suppressed in the Lower Court before Li Yanshen.
If that was achieved, their task would be done.
Shen and Zhou did not rush down the mountain, instead conferring on their plan inside the octagonal pavilion where Qian Fan had vanished.
By chance, a tall, thin disciple was heading down the mountain.
Shen Yunfei took a look and recognized a familiar face.
He called out warmly, "Junior Brother Zeng, please wait a moment!"
This Zeng Mu was none other than the disciple on duty at Hundred Herbs Hall a few days ago who had made things difficult for Qin Xuan. Hearing Senior Brother Shen call him, he started and froze in his tracks.
He then came trotting over obsequiously, cupping his hands. "Senior Brother Shen, Senior Brother Zhou, I was just heading down to purchase supplies. What instructions do you have?"
Shen Yunfei said, "Set aside what's in your hands for now. Your Eagle Eye Technique ranks among the best in the sect. It happens that you can handle a task for Elder Pan. If this succeeds, you'll have a chance to become a core disciple."
Zeng Mu was overjoyed. The three held a hushed discussion.
Zhou Cang handed Zeng Mu a black pigeon, which the latter accepted with eager anticipation.
Just before leaving, Zeng Mu hesitated slightly. "Senior Brother Shen, if I act like this, will the temple head make things difficult for me afterward?"
Shen Yunfei shook his head. "As long as you are clever and don't violate sect rules, who can trouble you? In our Yuansong Temple, the temple head is the strictest follower of rules."
Pointing northward, he added, "Besides, this is a struggle higher up, something even the temple head can hardly sway. Just go and do your work."
"Very well!"
Zeng Mu answered briskly, took his leave, and set off.
……
After descending the mountain, Qin Xuan first made inquiries about the Geng family, breathing a sigh of relief upon learning that Geng Zhi was still at the estate.
Ever since the Geng household emerged from Mount Yunxiu, surrounding factions had kept their eyes on them.
With the situation so convoluted, Qin Xuan planned to pay a visit after nightfall.
Nearing the eastern quarter of the city, he stopped by Zhenbao Pavilion along the way.
This was a trading house for Qi Refining cultivators, and he had come to sell the evil bead obtained from Huo Yu.
He had studied it previously, even soaking it in spiritual water, but that had yielded no results and had only reduced its evil qi.
This bead was an ingredient for concocting Foundation Building Pills, useless for Qin Xuan to keep.
When the time came to build his foundation, his status as a core disciple entitled him to a free Foundation Building Pill without having to brew one himself.
Though it could not fetch a high price now, it still brought in over fifty spirit stones, enough to purchase plenty of medicinal herbs.
Only then would he have the confidence to seek out Zhu Gui and the others later.
He had also considered selling the spirit herbs refined by the ancient mirror, but the risk was too great; experienced herb merchants would certainly grow suspicious upon seeing such medicine.
As for selling pills...
Concocting a single batch took several hours, consuming too much precious time.
Qin Xuan did not plan to take risks for now. Rather than doing business, it would be better to pen a letter to his maternal grandfather of the Lin family in Laidu Commandery of Qingzhou Prefecture, claiming he was tight on funds.
Though Grandfather Lin had a foul temper, he was always generous with money.
Leaving Zhenbao Pavilion, Qin Xuan headed toward the Geng estate, intending to scout the perimeter first.
Around midday, he came to a stop beside a narrow alley.
To the left of the road stood three joined storefronts, extending about two courtyards deep. An old plaque hung outside bearing three characters: "Jigu Zhai." From the calligraphy, it had clearly seen many years.
It was a bookstore.
An ancient scholar tree stood before the entrance, its gnarled, twisting branches casting shade over more than half of the blue-stone alley.
Behind the counter sat the shopkeeper, an old man in his fifties wearing a black gauze cap. An abacus lay sideways beside him as he reclined halfway in his chair, engrossed in a yellowed ancient volume.
Martial artists occasionally frequented this place, suggesting the shop sold more than just ordinary miscellaneous texts.
As Qin Xuan walked in, the old shopkeeper glanced up, noting his uncommon bearing, but paid him little mind.
Immortals, Buddhas, Daoists, demons—he couldn't be bothered with any of them.
Seeing his demeanor, Qin Xuan did not press for conversation and walked straight in. Shelves brimmed with books of silk and paper, an overwhelming array.
Volumes stood arranged in tiers upon the elm shelves, giving off the scent of aged ink.
Qin Xuan’s gaze swept across one book after another, secretly hoping to spot the four words "Spring Letters, Autumn Post." Unfortunately, after searching every shelf, the title was nowhere to be found.
Just as he was about to leave, another thought struck him:
Should I check other romantic storyteller's tales?
The possibility was exceedingly slim, but what if there was something?
It was still early, so he made his way over to the shelf holding popular romance tales.
Qin Xuan could swear he had not the slightest interest in these mawkish love stories.
He flipped through several in a row: Old Love by Lamplight, On the Wall and Horseback After Dusk, Late in the Maple Grove, and The Monk Who Lit the Lamp.
Some were written explicitly, others coy and veiled.
None held much appeal.
Suddenly, Qin Xuan’s gaze flickered and locked onto a volume titled Spring Flowers, Autumn Harvest.
He reached out to take it.
Unexpectedly... his fingers grasped empty air.
Someone on the other side of the shelf had taken the book a step ahead of him. Catching a glimpse of a silhouette through the gap between books, Qin Xuan walked around the corner and saw a young woman dressed in plain white robes, cradling a stack of ancient books in her arms.
Spring Flowers, Autumn Harvest sat right at the top of the stack.
The woman appeared around twenty years old, her eyes as clear and bright as a trickling spring. Her brows were dark without makeup, her nose straight and elegant, and her lips a pale crimson.
An aura of scholarly refinement clung to her entire being, reminiscent of a noble daughter from a prominent family who rarely stepped beyond her inner chambers.
Yet upon meeting Qin Xuan’s gaze, her lips curled into an amused smile, making her seem like an exquisite painting coming to life before his eyes.
Qin Xuan understood at once that she held no special favor toward him.
It was only because...
He was currently holding a copy of On the Wall and Horseback After Dusk. Such a book contrasted so sharply with his aloof, transcendent bearing that the young woman simply could not suppress her laughter.
"I took this Spring Flowers, Autumn Harvest first."
"Besides, young master, there is no need to look so crestfallen."
She hesitated, then added, "This is not the kind of romantic book you are looking to read..."
Qin Xuan started slightly. You look so gentle and quiet, young lady, yet you speak so bluntly to my face.
The white-robed woman turned to leave. Qin Xuan hesitated, pondering whether he ought to call her back...
Chapter 19