A Clever Plan

Zhou Wuji was in no hurry to leave Old Dragon Island. First, he looked through the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Book. Having cultivated the Profound Yin Samsara Scripture, he possessed a degree of familiarity with the Heavenly Ghost Sect's legacy. He had also consulted Daoist Yiping, gleaning several insider secrets about their sect. The Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Book was an esoteric magic treasure of the Heavenly Ghost Sect, embodying its core secret arts. There were also two divine artifacts: the Great Yin Dark Emperor Banner and the Six Paths Heavenly Ghost Token. Rumor had it that these divine artifacts had been lost long ago, leaving only the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Book housed within the sect. Judging by Xue Ying's cultivation and standing, she should have had no right to lay hands on the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Book. Most likely, she had struck good luck and somehow procured this single page. A single small page, yet the serpent-insect seal script inscribed upon it spanned hundreds of thousands of characters. Zhou Wuji was thoroughly versed in this script, allowing him to read the entire text with ease. Recorded within were numerous esoteric arts of cultivation: great yin true qi, the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Seal, the Seven Yin Soul-Snatching Sword, the Dark Yin Ghost Claw, the Soul-Burning Lamp, and more. Among them, the most potent was naturally the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Seal. When unleashed using the Spirit-Severing Book, it struck without fail, and a single strike meant certain death. That he had managed to withstand it was purely thanks to several potent infusions of Primordial Profound Essence, which had essentially granted him a second life. There was also an art called the Ten Directions Ghost Eye, capable of gazing across vast expanses in all directions—truly extraordinary. It had surely been the Ten Directions Ghost Eye that allowed Xue Ying to track the White Rainbow Sword. These secret arts were formidable indeed, yet they differed drastically from his own path. He could barely manage profound yin true qi as it was, to say nothing of such advanced esoteric arts. Wonderful though the Ten Directions Spirit-Severing Book was, he had no use for it for the time being. Zhou Wuji reviewed the secret arts several times until he had committed them entirely to memory, then finally put the book away. Dawn had broken by now, yet Zhou Wuji felt unusually exhilarated. Advancing to Rank Six had vastly strengthened his physique, filling him with boundless vigor. Opening the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, he saw that his physical value had risen by a hundred and twenty, bringing the total to six hundred and twenty. Essence, qi, and spirit were the three treasures of a cultivator, as well as the paramount foundation. Among them, essence was unquestionably the most vital root; qi and spirit relied upon essence as their vessel, qi was governed by spirit, and spirit was invigorated by qi. The stronger the essence, the mightier the qi and spirit. An increase of a hundred and twenty might not sound like much, but it was effectively a one-quarter boost across the board—a colossal leap forward. Zhou Wuji had fought Zhang Banshan. To his eye, Zhang Banshan's physical level had hovered just above five hundred, hardly stronger than Zhang Xinhu in sheer bodily power. One could only say Zhang Xinhu had possessed exceptional natural gifts, but had lacked the temperament to subdue the tiger of his mind, leaving him stranded at Rank Seven and unable to advance. The deceased Xue Ying had possessed a destiny pattern of five liang seven qian, the highest he had ever obtained, making it exceedingly precious. Naturally, such a destiny pattern had to be spent where it mattered most, without the slightest waste. Zhou Wuji decided to stay one more day before returning to the Lower Court. Prior to departing, he would try using the Big Dipper as his eyes one last time; if he found nothing, he would give up. His luck, however, proved decent. That very afternoon, he located Chen Dalu's hiding place. A faint trace of a yin dragon's aura lingered there. Though masked by the pervasive earthly fiend qi, it could not escape the vision granted by the Big Dipper. In truth, it was merely a narrow crevice in a rock face, barely half a foot across. Cramped and tiny, and veiled beneath a thick shroud of vines, it would remain invisible even to someone standing inches away. Confirming there was no danger within, Zhou Wuji constricted his body and slipped inside. Buried within was a coarse earthenware jar covered with talismans. Beside it lay two sleeping mats, along with several gourds, cups, bowls, and similar utensils. Left deserted for so long, the mats had crumbled to dust from the corrosion of the earthly fiend qi, and the cups and bowls were caked in grime. Fortunately, the peculiar yin aura here kept away all manner of snakes and insects. In one corner sat a wooden chest. Zhou Wuji opened it, his face lighting up with delight—it was packed with gold ingots. Upon counting, he found over three hundred ingots, amounting to more than three thousand taels of gold, accompanied by a scattering of broken silver. There were no jewels. Clearly, Chen Dalu had been a practical man who trusted only gold and disdained trinkets. With this fortune, even after setting aside a thousand taels for Zhiyuan, the remainder would easily sustain him for a very long time. Stowing the gold, Zhou Wuji destroyed the earthenware jar and used the Tianji Profound Yang Sword to eliminate the embryonic remnant soul of the yin dragon. This wisp of a yin dragon's remnant was far too feeble, converting into a mere four liang one qian of primordial profound qi and raising his true qi by only a dozen-odd points. Fearing he might have overlooked something, Zhou Wuji combed the cave thoroughly, even deploying the Big Dipper as his eyes once more. Only after confirming nothing remained did he depart. There were no fishing boats anywhere near Old Dragon Island, so Zhou Wuji felled a cedar tree and rode the trunk across the river. He was traveling downstream, needing only to flick his sleeves now and then to correct his course. By nightfall, Zhou Wuji was back in the stone cottage at the Lower Court. Yang Tieying and Shangxing were overjoyed to see him return. Zhou Wuji did not stand on ceremony, ordering the two youngsters to fetch and heat water so he could soak in a large wooden tub. The earthly fiend qi on Old Dragon Island was scorching hot; resilient though he was, spending six or seven days there had left him thoroughly parched. Having changed into fresh clothes, he reclined in a chair, soaking in the chilly, eerie breeze rising from the Myriad Ghosts Cavern, feeling utterly refreshed from head to toe. Daoist Yiping lay back in the adjacent chair, asking with a smile, "You look to be in fine spirits. What good fortune befell you?" "A tremendous stroke of luck—I came into a windfall for nothing." Zhou Wuji grinned. While other matters had to remain secret, he had no qualms about sharing Chen Dalu's hidden stash with his martial uncle. Hearing that Zhou Wuji had uncovered Chen Dalu's hidden wealth, Daoist Yiping was equally pleased. In the pursuit of the Dao, wealth was not paramount, yet practicing without money was utterly impossible. Zhou Wuji mentioned offhandedly that he had crossed paths with a demonic cultivator of the Heavenly Ghost Sect and disposed of them without trouble. Assuming it had been merely an ordinary demonic cultivator, Daoist Yiping gave it little thought. Seizing upon the subject, Zhou Wuji asked, "Martial Uncle, with countless esoteric arts in this world, is there no method capable of embracing and governing ten thousand arts all at once?" "That is beyond what people like us could know." Daoist Yiping shook his head. "If such an incredible art truly existed, it would surely be kept under tight wraps, passed down only to the closest kin. Who would go around broadcasting it? "Governing ten thousand arts sounds imposing, but in practice, it is hardly different from mastering a single discipline. The current Sect Master cultivates nothing but the Hunyuan Single Qi, renowned as Qi Swallowing the Nine Provinces, the strongest under heaven. What commanding presence and grandeur that is!" Admiration shone on Zhou Wuji's face. "'Qi Swallowing the Nine Provinces'—what an imposing title! Truly domineering!" Curious, he pressed, "Is the Sect Master the number one powerhouse in the world?" "Vast as the Nine Provinces are, our human race occupies barely one or two-tenths of the land. The remaining seventy to eighty percent is home to great demons, heavenly ghosts, and other fiends. There is also Yin Wuji, Sect Master of the Ten Thousand Fiends Sect, who should be every bit a match for our Sect Master..." "Then that doesn't add up," Zhou Wuji said. "If the Demon Sect master were truly that formidable, how could our Buddhist and Daoist orders wield such grand authority?" "What do you know?" Yiping retorted. "Yin Wuji is merely a title for the master of the Demon Sect, not a real name. As for what Yin Wuji is actually like, no outsider can say for sure. "The teachings of the Demon Sect are an affront to Heaven; the higher one's cultivation, the tighter the constraints. Should Yin Wuji dare to act recklessly, Heaven's retribution would strike him down before anyone else even lifted a finger..." Zhou Wuji had cultivated for only a brief time, spending most of it practicing or getting into trouble. Though he had read a fair share of books, he was ignorant of such secrets. Only now did he learn that the Demon Sect labored under such limitations. Indeed, they were called a Demon Sect for good reason. "I wonder what Heaven's retribution looks like?" Zhou Wuji mused, fascinated. Just what realm of cultivation was required to provoke Heaven's retribution? "Hmph, it is actually quite simple!" Daoist Yiping scoffed dismissively. "To put it plainly, it is nothing more than the intertwining of qi dynamics and the mutual attraction of yin and yang. No matter their method, the people of the Demon Sect are inherently foul and sinister. Lightning is the supreme manifestation of yang; when yin qi grows overwhelming, it inevitably draws down lightning. Even beneath a cloudless sky, sufficient yin qi is enough to spark a thunderstrike." "So that's how it is." Enlightenment dawned on Zhou Wuji, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Had some deity been actively orchestrating heavenly retribution, then using the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment daily without abiding by the precepts would have brought divine punishment crashing down on his head sooner or later. But if heavenly retribution was merely a natural phenomenon, there was nothing to fear. "Martial Uncle, I have a matter of grave importance, but I do not know whom to report it to." Having no one else to consult, Zhou Wuji could only confide in his uncle. No matter how much of a slacker Martial Uncle Yiping was, he had stayed in the Lower Court for years and possessed a decent grasp of the overall situation; he should be able to offer sound counsel. "You want to... curry favor with the Yuheng lineage?" Daoist Yiping knew his nephew well by now, and a single glance at Zhou Wuji's demeanor was enough to guess his intentions. "Yes," Zhou Wuji admitted frankly. "I want to learn the Seven Stars of the Big Dipper Sword." Daoist Yiping pondered for a moment before saying, "There are actually two Upper Courts. Here in Chunan, it is the Jingyang Upper Court, while Chubei has the Yuyang Upper Court. The abbot of the Jingyang Upper Court, Real Man Zhiyun, is an expert from our Tianshu lineage. They say Real Man Zhiyun is easygoing and broad-minded; under his leadership, relations among the seven lineages of the Upper Court are quite amicable. "Even so, you cannot actually bypass Real Man Zhiyun. Even if the Real Man doesn't mind, the other cultivators of the Tianshu lineage will take a dim view of you. You had better go straight to Abbot Zhihe and report the matter to him. He hails from the Yuheng lineage, so he will definitely notify the Yuheng experts first. That way, even if word leaks out later, everyone will blame Zhihe rather than you..." "A brilliant plan!" Zhou Wuji nodded repeatedly. He had originally contemplated bypassing Zhihe to write directly to Real Man Zhihua. Thinking it over now, that would indeed have been improper. Going through Zhihe adhered to the rules, leaving him room to deflect blame later without providing anyone a pretext to fault him. "Age breeds wisdom—Martial Uncle's intellect is truly supreme. I am filled with admiration!" Zhou Wuji praised effusively. Daoist Yiping stroked his beard with a smile, accepting the flattery without modesty. Early the next morning, Zhou Wuji headed to Heart Inquest Hall to request an audience with Zhihe. As the grand abbot of the Lower Court, Zhihe might not have been managing ten thousand affairs a day, but he oversaw all Northern Pole cultivators across Yunyang Prefecture. Preoccupied with various duties, he was not someone one could see on a whim. Fortunately, Zhihe held Zhou Wuji in high regard; after waiting little more than half a shichen, Zhou Wuji was granted an audience. The colossal Heart Inquest Mirror was dim and lusterless, reflecting only the hazy silhouette of Zhihe's back. Zhihe wore a bronze star crown and a blue Daoist robe. A sheathed longsword rested on a nearby rack, and his entire demeanor seemed peaceful and serene. Zhou Wuji cupped his hands in greeting. Zhihe waved a hand. "Speak your mind." Zhou Wuji adopted a solemn tone. "Disciple has a matter of the utmost gravity and wishes to seek an audience with Real Man Zhihua to report it in person." "Oh...?" Zhihe cast a deep, searching look at Zhou Wuji. Zhou Wuji stood with lowered eyes and hands respectfully clasped, the very picture of an obedient, dutiful disciple. Zhihe knew Zhou Wuji was shrewd and calculating; for him to speak in such terms, it had to be a matter of great consequence. Still, that Zhou Wuji would not disclose it to him left a sour taste in his mouth. Yet the boy did not belong to the Yuheng lineage, and Zhihe had use for him, so he could hardly resort to coercion. "Go back and wait for now." Zhihe flicked his sleeve, gesturing for Zhou Wuji to take his leave. Zhou Wuji bowed deferentially. Just as he retreated to the hall's doorway, Zhihe's voice drifted out from within: "The debate on the scriptures is six days away. Do not wander about; prepare yourself well..." Within the cavernous, empty hall, Zhihe fell into thought for a moment before suddenly letting out a soft chuckle. The boy was trying to curry favor with Real Man Zhihua to learn the Seven Stars of the Big Dipper Sword—even willing to risk offending him in the process! Having pieced that together, Zhihe's irritation vanished. Indeed, he could not give Zhou Wuji what he truly desired.