Daoist Yizhen left soon after, never once mentioning Wuming from beginning to end.
Zhou Wuji listened to the door shut and the sound of Daoist Yizhen's footsteps gradually fade into the distance. Only then did he softly exhale a breath of turbid air.
Having taken some advantage of Wuming, after all, he still felt a sliver of pressure when facing her father.
He was mainly worried Yizhen would come settling scores!
If nothing else, those two Northern Culmen Heavenly Dipper Divine Talismans and the Three-Revolution Origin-Returning Pill alone were outrageously expensive. He truly could not cough up so much money right now.
He understood what Daoist Yizhen meant: telling him not to lock horns with Zhang Xinhu. The world was vast, and he ought to set his sights on far grander horizons.
This was Daoist Yizhen's admonition to him, as well as his expectation.
It was clear that Daoist Yizhen still regarded him with great esteem.
And everything he had said made eminent sense.
Above the branch abbey was the upper abbey, and above the upper abbey was the main abbey. Above the main abbey stood the Celestial Master Mansion, and above the Celestial Master Mansion reigned the Hierarch of the Daoist Order...
Zhou Wuji had truly never thought so far ahead before. He lacked innate talent for Daoist cultivation and had originally intended to cling to his master's coattails, lying flat to drift through his days.
It was only upon receiving his master's legacy, the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, that his cultivation made leaps and bounds, yielding a modest measure of success.
He had promised his master he would ascend to the Celestial Realm to see those Immortal Kings and Buddhas, yet he had merely kept the thought in mind, never pausing to consider how to bring it about in practice.
The main reason was simply that too much had happened. He had been so busy dealing with endless troubles that he had no time to ponder such things.
Only now, with Daoist Yizhen bringing it up, did Zhou Wuji suddenly realize that if he wished to ascend to the Immortal Realm, these were the very steps he had to climb, one by one!
With his current swordsmanship, he could reign supreme over Siming County. But placed in Yunyang Prefecture, it would hardly be enough to turn heads.
Yunyang Prefecture possessed sixth-rank qi-refining martial artists, fifth-rank Scripture Masters, and Buddhist experts as well.
As for heterodox and demonic sects like the Yin-Yang Dao, the number of masters lurking among them was anyone's guess.
Relying solely on the Xiaoxiang Sword at the realm of Perfection was not enough to make him lord over the prefectural seat.
For a cultivator, the foundation still lay in cultivation realms—that was their Dao.
Methods protected the Dao and preserved one's life, while arts handled unexpected contingencies.
Zhou Wuji opened the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment. His swordsmanship reaching Perfection had boosted his spirit by twenty points, and his total volume of true qi had increased by ten points as well.
That it produced such results was primarily because the Xiaoxiang Sword was aligned with the Northern Dipper Tianshu true qi; there was a close connection between the two.
To raise his cultivation base, the fastest path was to elevate the tier of the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture and increase his total amount of qi.
He was now at the seventh rank. To advance to the sixth rank, he needed to unblock his Baihui acupoint.
The Daoist Order referred to the Baihui acupoint as the Heavenly Gate, regarding it as the portal through which humans communicated with Heaven and Earth.
The Arctic Sect believed that the Baihui acupoint represented the Polaris, serving as the foundation that governed the seven apertures and the central hub connecting all the countless acupoints throughout the body.
The Baihui acupoint was exceptionally peculiar and notoriously difficult to penetrate.
Only when one's true qi was sufficiently pure and vigorous, their divine sense sharp and potent, and their mastery of scriptures and methods exquisitely profound could they breach the Baihui aperture.
This step required tempering through a thousand trials, which was why sixth-rank practitioners of the Daoist Order were known as Masters of Refinement.
Zhou Wuji flipped through the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment. In last night's battle, he had killed many rebel soldiers, but regrettably, none possessed a destiny pattern of three liang or more.
For the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture at Great Accomplishment, one needed a destiny pattern of at least three liang to even have a chance of advancing.
Looking back and forth, only the Five Yin Pouch was worth upgrading.
With nothing else to do, Zhou Wuji invested three destiny patterns between two liang seven qian and two liang eight qian, raising the Five Yin Pouch to Great Accomplishment.
With that, the Five Yin Pouch expanded as well, reaching a full eight feet square.
Now, only the Seven Stars Demon-Slaying Sword remained at the lowest tier. It had to be said that this spell was exceedingly profound; if cultivated to a sufficiently high realm, it could certainly be used in combat.
Looking at the remaining destiny patterns, Zhou Wuji felt there was no point in hoarding so many, so he poured in three destiny patterns between two liang six qian and two liang seven qian, advancing the Seven Stars Demon-Slaying Sword to Minor Accomplishment.
Zhou Wuji silently recited the incantation, circulating his true qi to cast the spell. After ten breaths, a blue light sword about a foot long shot out from his fingertips.
Like a swimming fish, the blue light sword darted and swirled around the room for over a dozen laps, moving faster and faster until it finally dissolved into specks of blue radiance, fading without a sound.
Zhou Wuji shook his head inwardly. The casting time for the Seven Stars Demon-Slaying Sword had been reduced tenfold, yet it was still unfit for practical combat.
Not only was the casting time too long, but its power was also insufficient. It hardly posed any serious threat even to an eighth-rank martial artist.
The Seven Stars Demon-Slaying Sword was intimately tied to the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture, connecting to various cultivation methods. It was both an art and a method, holding immense importance.
Though of little use right now, its rank still had to be raised eventually.
Zhou Wuji's gaze fell upon the tiger demon. So long as that beast was converted into Primordial Profound Essence, it ought to heal his injuries completely, shouldn't it?
He also had the Three-Revolution Origin-Returning Pill from Wuming, which had to be worth dozens of taels of gold.
If worse came to worst, pairing it with that spiritual pill would surely suffice.
Yet Zhou Wuji was in no rush to use them. Yizhen had talked his ear off earlier, but wasn't it all just to urge him to look further ahead and not clash with Zhang Xinhu?
Evidently, the branch abbey would not move against Zhang Xinhu this time.
Whatever Yizhen's considerations might be, Zhou Wuji refused to tolerate Zhang Xinhu parading right in front of him.
That man had tried to kill him time and again; he was a massive nuisance that had to be eliminated!
Everyone knew he was gravely injured. All he needed to do was quietly wait for an opportune moment...
Early the next morning, Zhou Wuji was startled awake by Wuming barging in.
Wuming gazed at him yearningly, her sparkling eyes brimming with complicated emotion. Zhou Wuji felt both flattered and slightly wary—could this girl be looking to take advantage of him while he was laid up in bed?
"Senior Brother, I have to go into the mountains with my father to wipe out the routed soldiers." When Wuming's eyes met his, his bright, composed gaze made her heart suddenly beat rapidly. Feeling shy, she lowered her eyes, her voice growing softer and softer.
"Oh. Stay safe." Zhou Wuji breathed a sigh of relief, thinking something was wrong.
Wuming fell silent for a moment before murmuring, "My father said that once it's done, we're returning straight to the branch abbey. We won't be coming back to Canglong Temple..."
"Ah, leaving just like that?"
Zhou Wuji had actually anticipated this. Yizhen's words yesterday had made it abundantly clear between the lines that he wanted Zhou Wuji to focus on cultivating, so he obviously wouldn't let Wuming stay here fooling around with him.
Yet hearing Wuming say it to his face, he still felt a twinge of reluctance.
He had originally thought he merely had some fond feelings for her—more than friends, but not yet love.
Only now did he realize he was surprisingly sentimental...
Zhou Wuji didn't know what to say. He disliked making hasty promises, and given the nature of their relationship, promises hardly seemed appropriate.
After thinking for a moment, he said, "Your flute is still with me—"
Before he could finish, Wuming shook her head repeatedly. "Keep the flute, Senior Brother..."
She pulled a book from her sleeve and placed it on the bed. "This copy of *Rhyme of the Flute* covers playing techniques. You can take a look at it, Senior Brother."
Not daring to linger, Wuming waved her hand. "I'm leaving, Senior Brother. Come visit me at the branch abbey when you have time."
As she spoke, she managed a smile, yet for some reason a pang of sourness washed through her heart and nose. Feeling tears welling up on the verge of spilling over, she hastily turned, yanked open the door, and fled.
Zhou Wuji found it somewhat endearing. He carefully reached out and picked up the jade flute from beside the bed. About a foot long, it was exquisite, crafted from flawless, pure white jade that shone with a gentle luster.
He heard the commotion of voices outside; Daoist Yizhen was leading his people in their pre-departure preparations.
Zhou Wuji picked up *Rhyme of the Flute* and flipped through it. It mainly discussed breathing techniques for the flute and how to understand the cadence within melodies—all the most basic fundamentals of playing.
After some thought, he opened the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, picked out the cheapest destiny pattern of one-plus liang, and applied it to the skill of flute playing.
Purple light flared. When Zhou Wuji opened his eyes, the technique of playing the flute was already thoroughly mastered, reaching the realm of Perfection.
The most important aspects of playing the flute were breath control and fingering, which were effortless for Zhou Wuji.
What was truly difficult was grasping the subtle timbre of the flute itself and interpreting the delicate cadence within the music.
No matter how one looked at it, playing the flute was far simpler than swordsmanship or Daoist arts.
Hearing that the people outside had already set off, Zhou Wuji picked up the jade flute, intending to play a tune to see Wuming off—and show off his newly mastered flute skills in the process.
With his current level of playing, even without sheet music, he could reproduce any melody on the jade flute as long as he had heard it once.
He had initially thought of playing "Ask Not of the Return Date" or "Fireworks Cool Easily"—gentle, lingering melodies tinged with melancholy were quite fitting for a farewell.
Yet considering Yizhen was also there, such sentimental tunes were not entirely appropriate...
Daoist Yizhen took the lead on horseback with Wuming and Wuye as they rode out the temple gates, followed by numerous disciples and attendants.
Wuming looked back at Canglong Temple with reluctant longing, unable to resist asking Daoist Yizhen in a low voice, "Father, what if Zhang Xinhu seizes this chance to make a move?"
"Zhang Xinhu appears tough, but he cherishes his life dearly. He won't dare make a move."
Daoist Yizhen said calmly, "Don't overthink it."
Wuzheng stood at the temple gates, bowing deeply with hands clasped to see his master off.
Right then, a soaring flute melody drifted from deep within the temple. Wuming's face lit up with joy—Senior Brother Wuji was playing the flute to bid her farewell!
Her expression soon turned to astonishment. The tune her senior brother played carried the vast, surging expanse of a mighty river, the ethereal distant mist of mountain rain, and a proud, stirring bravado that set one's blood ablaze...
Daoist Yizhen reined in his horse and halted as well. He listened quietly until the flute melody gradually softened and faded away. Only then did he turn toward his daughter with a complex expression and ask, "Did you teach him that?"
Wuming nodded with a touch of pride, then shook her head. "I did teach him the flute, but only for a single day.
"Senior Brother is truly a natural-born genius. His playing technique is already consummate and flawless. And this tune was so remarkably unconventional and profound."
Daoist Yizhen murmured pensively to himself, "What intense murderous intent..."
Chapter 58