Zhou Wuji watched Li Ruyi head back to the main hall before withdrawing his gaze.
Li Ruyi was exceptionally clever, and with an old maidservant who was a Rank Nine martial artist by her side, that was plenty to keep the others under control.
Besides, this endeavor offered great returns for little risk. Even if she knew the odds were slim, she would still be willing to try.
It was not that Zhou Wuji trusted Li Ruyi all that much; rather, he knew Zhang Xinhu was not at home during this period.
Even if Li Ruyi really went and tipped them off, no one in the Zhang or Fang clan could do anything to him.
Zhou Wuji's original plan had been simple: kill Zhang Wuding and Fang Wuzhen, then flee.
Now that he could control the situation, there was no need to flee in panic. Navigating a boat through torrential river waters at night was simply too dangerous.
To advance to Rank Eight Qi Ingestion, going to the Yunlong Branch Abbey was an absolute necessity.
Only there could he undergo the precept transmission and seal conferral, officially advancing to Rank Eight.
His master's death also had to be reported to the branch abbey.
And to resolve the troubles with the Zhang and Fang clans, he would likewise need to find someone at the branch abbey to help...
The Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment was their sect's greatest divine artifact, and only within the sect were there corresponding secret arts to wield it.
His master had also instructed him that the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment was merely a vessel; to attain the Dao and ascend, the key lay in the arts, in the Dao itself.
The Arctic Sect's legacy was extremely rigorous. If he wished to achieve anything, he had to rely on the sect!
Zhou Wuji returned to his master's bedroom and opened the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment once more.
As the pages unfolded and his thoughts shifted, Zhang Wuding's name transformed into a cluster of purple spiritual light.
"Destiny pattern: two liang, three qian; converted into primordial profound spirit..."
Through the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, Zhou Wuji naturally understood the function of primordial profound spirit: it could be used directly to advance cultivation arts.
The primordial profound qi converted from the baleful ghost essentially enhanced the qi within his body, rather than directly raising the level of the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture.
Primordial profound qi enhanced true qi cultivation, whereas primordial profound spirit was equivalent to temporarily boosting his comprehension.
Zhou Wuji's knowledge was limited. Among his arts, the Golden Light Incantation was a spell for exorcising demons and subduing evil, virtually useless against martial artists.
With the Seven Stars Sword in hand, boosting spells was meaningless.
What was truly useful were the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture and the Xiaoxiang Sword.
In the long run, raising the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture was naturally better, as it would enhance his command over qi and improve his qi-refining efficiency.
However, he had only just advanced to Rank Eight. No matter how much he raised the Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot Scripture, it would be impossible to level up again in the short term.
Another issue was that slaying ghosts gathered primordial profound qi, which was vastly faster than cultivating on his own.
Thus, the only choice was the Xiaoxiang Sword. With the Seven Stars Sword in hand, elevating his swordsmanship by one degree would raise his combat power by three.
Converting primordial profound spirit also required worshiping the Northern Emperor through standard rituals; it could not normally be done on a whim.
Fortunately, being an Otherworldly Soul, he was completely exempt from all precept punishments, allowing him to convert primordial profound spirit directly.
A cluster of purple light fell upon the Xiaoxiang Sword. As the light rippled, Zhou Wuji felt as though he had plunged into a bizarre world.
In this world, he practiced the Xiaoxiang Sword Technique day and night without rest.
In such a state, his swordsmanship advanced at tremendous speed.
He did not know how much time had passed before he emerged from the trance. He glanced out the window; the night was still deep.
By his senses, the elapsed time had felt incredibly brief—as though in the blink of an eye!
Yet within the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, it felt as if he had practiced the sword for twenty years.
On the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, the notation behind the Xiaoxiang Sword Technique had already changed to Proficient.
Mastering any skill to the proficient level was enough to be called an expert in that craft.
Zhou Wuji stepped down from the bed and took hold of the Seven Stars Sword's hilt. Even without drawing the blade, he could feel that the sword seemed to have become an extension of his own limb, utterly familiar and intimate.
Casually drawing the blade, he thrust repeatedly, delivering seven consecutive stabs in the blink of an eye.
While the frigid sword gleam still flared in the dark room, the blade had already returned to its scabbard.
Between drawing and sheathing, it possessed an added measure of fluid smoothness compared to when he had first refined his qi earlier.
Executing the same technique in the same amount of time, going from five consecutive thrusts to seven meant his sword speed had increased by forty percent.
It was not that his raw speed had simply increased, but that he was far more attuned to the sword's nature, enabling a more rational coordination of his body and true qi.
When unleashing a strike, he could even achieve qi following the sword's turns.
With his current swordsmanship, even if Zhang Wuding had a sword in hand, he would not last three moves against him. Adding Fang Wuzhen would change nothing!
Such consummate swordsmanship made Zhou Wuji feel extraordinarily powerful—capable even of trading blows with a Rank Seven martial artist.
Of course, it was just a passing thought; he would not be so reckless.
A Rank Seven martial artist had refined their internal strength to the realm of supernatural perfection, possessing exceptionally formidable internal organs. A single pounce could cover thirty to fifty feet, and every gesture carried a thousand jin of force—terrifyingly potent.
Only if his swordsmanship reached his master's level could he leap across ranks to slay Zhang Xinhu.
In the past, watching his master slay demons and exorcise evil spirits, Zhou Wuji had only thought it all looked effortless and simple.
Only now, after making tremendous progress in his swordsmanship, could he appreciate the brilliance of his master's bladecraft.
The Xiaoxiang Sword was a complete sword art of sublime conception and exquisite forms, perfectly matched to the transformations of Celestial Pivot true qi.
According to martial rumors, even mighty martial artists of Rank Two or Three might not be able to create a martial art or sword style from scratch.
Without a doubt, his master had also utilized this unique property of the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, accumulating many years of experience to eventually create the Xiaoxiang Sword.
Tailored specifically to harmonize with Celestial Pivot true qi, this Xiaoxiang Sword saved him countless hours of toil.
His innate talent in sword practice and Dao cultivation was average at best, but fortunately, he possessed the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment.
Zhou Wuji's gaze fell upon Fang Wuzhen's name: destiny pattern of one liang, nine qian.
Fang Wuzhen's destiny pattern was four qian lighter than Zhang Wuding's.
He did not know how much weight those four qian represented, but clearly, the primordial profound spirit converted from Fang Wuzhen would not match Zhang Wuding's.
To make further progress in swordsmanship at the proficient level, a stronger and weightier destiny pattern was surely required!
Through the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, Zhou Wuji naturally understood the logic behind this.
Therefore, the primordial profound spirit converted from Fang Wuzhen's destiny pattern would not be enough to advance his sword realm.
Earlier, unaware of how it worked, he had used Zhang Wuding's destiny pattern first, reversing the proper order.
A thought suddenly struck Zhou Wuji: if it could not advance the entire sword art, could it be used to advance a single form?
A difference of four qian shouldn't be too vast, right?
He had initially thought of boosting his quick-draw speed so a sudden strike could serve as an ambush.
Yet on second thought, he felt that was unfeasible. The senses of a powerful martial artist were exceedingly sharp; none would give him the chance to get close and launch a quick-draw sneak attack.
Rather than looking to exploit gaps with ambushes, it was better to enhance his footwork and movement speed. Moving faster with more variations would allow him to make better use of space in combat.
The Xiaoxiang Sword consisted of eight forms in total, among which the essence of the Flowing Cloud Sword lay not in the blade, but in footwork variations.
After all, clouds drift with the wind; clouds have form while the wind is formless. That, too, was the profound essence his master had imparted to him.
Now that his sword art had reached the proficient level, Zhou Wuji understood the essence of the Flowing Cloud Sword even more deeply.
To track the time, Zhou Wuji deliberately set his lifespan display to a countdown mode measured in seconds.
Channeling the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, he converted Fang Wuzhen's destiny pattern into primordial profound spirit and invested it into the Flowing Cloud Sword.
Purple light swirled, and another half-real, half-illusory little world unfolded, wherein Zhou Wuji dedicated himself exclusively to practicing the Flowing Cloud Sword.
After an unknown length of time, the sword-practice world silently dissolved, and Zhou Wuji woke up.
Glancing at the lifespan countdown on the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, the actual time elapsed was one second.
The disparity between that protracted period of sword practice and real-world time was astonishing!
This, of course, was a wonderful thing.
Zhou Wuji circled the room, then leapt into the air, drawing his sword in a flurry of strikes. His body shifted directions twice in midair like a soaring bird before fluttering softly to the ground like a fallen leaf, making scarcely a sound.
Zhou Wuji felt his movement speed had increased by at least thirty percent. Checking the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment again, the Xiaoxiang Sword was still at the proficient realm, unadvanced.
However, when he mentally displayed each sword form individually, he saw that the Flowing Cloud Sword differed from the other seven forms—it had reached the minor accomplishment realm.
He could not help but smile. Even a fool's thousand deliberations yield one gain.
Though Fang Wuzhen's destiny pattern was somewhat inferior, focusing single-mindedly on one technique had still borne fruit.
With such nimble and swift footwork, he could comfortably defeat two Zhang Wudings at once. He could even kill Zhang Wuding barehanded.
Zhou Wuji felt a surge of pride, thinking himself truly clever to have come up with such an ingenious idea...
Using the primordial profound spirit in succession like this had not exhausted Zhou Wuji; on the contrary, his essence and spirit were brimming, leaving him entirely unfatigued.
There was still business to attend to at dawn, and with conditions outside uncertain, Zhou Wuji did not dare actually sleep.
Silently circulating his qi and regulating his breath, he entered a tranquil, rippleless meditative state, quietly nurturing his spirit.
When Zhou Wuji opened his eyes again, the window paper was faintly glowing.
Drawing on years of experience, he judged it to be the Mao hour, a little past five in the morning.
Zhou Wuji washed his face, rinsed his mouth, adjusted his topknot before a half-height bronze mirror, and tidied his Daoist robes.
Finally, he bared his teeth in a grin at the mirror. Confirming his reflection looked presentable, he descended to the secret chamber.
He retrieved the chest of gold and his master's talisman token, keeping important items such as the account ledgers and notes on his person.
Lastly, from among the miscellaneous items, he took a medicine gourd.
Inside the gourd were inedia pills. A single pill cost a whole liang of silver, but it was enough to satisfy a person's needs for an entire day.
Returning to his own room, Zhou Wuji gathered a few small self-defense trinkets he usually kept on hand.
Once everything was packed, Zhou Wuji checked the front hall again. Everyone was sitting against the walls with their eyes closed, fast asleep.
Not one was missing.
The corpses still lay on the ground, untouched.
Li Ruyi was very alert; sensing Zhou Wuji's gaze, she opened her eyes immediately.
Zhou Wuji gestured to her. After discussing a few more matters outside, he floated out of Canglong Temple and headed down the mountain...
Chapter 8