Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Cold Blade Descends from the Heavens

The temperature here was uncomfortably high, making the air feel stifling; fortunately, there was plenty of oxygen, and after steadying his breath, Yulang felt much better. The spiritual energy in this enclosed space was outrageously dense—perhaps a thousand times thicker than outside. There was no need to actively draw it into the body; it surged in through every pore, so much so that Yulang had to frantically burn through his inner energy with the Grindstone Blade just to maintain equilibrium. In other words, if an ordinary person who knew nothing of cultivation were to set foot here, they would almost certainly perish, their body ruptured by the overwhelming influx.

After a long moment, Yulang regained some strength and stood to observe his surroundings.

He appeared to be in the main hall of a palace carved out from within a mountain. Eight stone pillars supported the hall, each etched with intricate patterns, hinting at their ancient origin. Yulang stood in a secluded corner; about fifty feet away was a tightly sealed bronze door, engraved with the same motifs as the pillars. Two bronze rings hung from the door, presumably for opening it, but they were set so high that Yulang doubted any person could possibly reach them.

At the very center of the hall was a pool—its water clear and shallow. At the pool’s edge sat a strangely shaped stone, upon which four archaic characters were inscribed: Purification of the Meridians.

At this, a smile broke across Yulang’s face. Clearly, this was indeed the site where the Moon-Washing Academy performed the Purification of the Meridians.

Questions like whether he would be punished for performing the ritual without the Academy’s permission no longer concerned Yulang. First, the competition’s rules never expressly forbade it; and if something is not prohibited, it is tacitly allowed—or so Yulang understood the rules. Reading rules is never just about what is stated, but also what is left unsaid. There was no ban, so there was no reason for punishment. Besides, who could have predicted that a student would find the side entrance to the Purification Hall? At the entrance lay a sealing stone; even a cultivator at the peak of the Void-Breaking stage would have no hope of breaking through.

Approaching the pool, Yulang noticed its water was formed from the liquefaction of the stalactites above. No wonder the spiritual energy here was so much more concentrated—it was the very liquid of purification, created as vapor condensed. That was why the Academy could only offer new students a chance at Purification once every three years; the water collected so slowly.

Liquefaction. This sparked a bold idea in Yulang’s mind, recalling the physics of his past life: the cooler the object, the more efficiently it condenses vapor. The Grindstone Blade was innately cold! Lifting the blade, he saw that droplets had already condensed upon it—many times faster than on the stalactites above the pool.

He hung the blade over a side table in front of the pool and readied the Jade Purity Flask that Yang Yuhuan had gifted him, positioning its mouth beneath the blade’s tip. The purifying liquid formed rapidly, ran down the blade, and dripped into the flask.

Who could have foreseen this? The Grindstone Blade and Jade Purity Flask, when combined, allowed Yulang to collect a great quantity of the purification liquid.

He left the pool’s water untouched, realizing its unique properties were tied to the special stone that formed the pool itself. Only by soaking within this basin could the liquid’s full effect be realized, so he refrained from taking any of it for himself.

Shedding his tattered Academy training uniform, Yulang leapt into the pool.

Instantly, it felt as if ten thousand ants were biting at his skin. He groaned, unable to bear the pain, but after enduring the initial agony, an indescribable comfort flooded through him. The purifying liquid seeped in through every pore, expelling impurities from within.

Closing his eyes, Yulang quietly surrendered to the transformation. Before long, exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted into sleep.

When he awoke, the pool’s water had turned from crystal-clear to turbid and foul. Alarmed, he leapt out—nearly hitting the decorations on the hall’s ceiling, and only barely twisting in midair to land safely.

He couldn’t help but examine himself inwardly; his dantian was now surging with inner energy—no longer did he need to rely on his makeshift reserves. Overcome with emotion, Yulang almost burst into tears. The journey here had been anything but easy.

Thanks to this slow and steady accumulation, the moment his dantian was unblocked he had already reached the middle tier of the Hundred Refinements Stage. With the added power of the Second Risk Technique and the Grindstone Blade’s martial soul pool, he could now stand against opponents at the Ocean-Roving Stage.

Pinching his nose, Yulang dressed himself again, wrinkling at the dirty uniform, then picked up the Jade Purity Flask and gave it a satisfied shake. After the Purification, his already sharp senses became almost terrifying, so much so that he instantly heard faint sounds outside the door. Slipping back through the tunnel he’d entered from, he quickly replaced the covering at its mouth and dashed away at full speed.

——————————————————————————————

Yangzhou City, within the Moon-Washing Academy.

Du Fu had tried again and again to cheer up Qingqing, but to no avail. Disheartened, he took a seat beside her. “Dean Chen said Yulang will definitely make it through this ordeal, so you mustn’t worry so much. When someone of the Dean’s stature speaks, it’s as good as law…”

Qingqing’s gaze was dull. “Didn’t the Dean also say the Sealed Mountain Competition was perfectly safe? How did the Yellow River Patriarch’s beast suddenly appear? That thing was as strong as an Ocean-Roving peak cultivator. It bit him right in the middle… Li Dahu and the others said his abdomen was torn open… Yulang’s dantian hadn’t even been unblocked, how could he have survived…”

Her voice broke, tears splashing onto the stone table.

“The Dean never said it was perfectly safe—it’s only you young people who use such absolute words. He said it was relatively safe—there are always uncontrollable factors. But believe me, Yulang is definitely all right. Yesterday, I burned my own lifespan to divine his fate. Not only did he survive, he will actually benefit from this disaster…”

“Stop trying to fool me with that nonsense.” Qingqing no longer believed a word Du Fu said. A month ago, he’d said Yulang would be back within two days or he’d parade through the city in women’s clothes. Twenty days ago, having just paraded, he swore Yulang would return within three days or he’d drink a vat of vinegar. Ten days ago, he’d even wagered his own head. And now, some new fortune-telling trick. Qingqing wanted to force herself to believe, but she was simply too exhausted.

After Yulang’s accident, the Academy had immediately ended the Sealed Mountain Competition and sent search parties combing the mountains for ten days, but no one found him.

As for the Yellow River Patriarch’s beast, it had been slain on the spot by an enraged Du Fu—who later invited the Academy instructors to cook up a great feast of spiritual beast soup.

When Dean Chen asked what compensation the Yellow River Patriarch wanted for the loss of his mount, the old man, weeping, vowed that neither he, his grandson, nor any of his three hundred disciples would ever set foot south of the Yellow River again, and offered a generous gift to the Academy.

Dean Chen shook his head—still not enough. The Yellow River Patriarch, desperate, cut off his own left arm and crippled his grandson Zhu Yiming’s dantian before being allowed to leave.

That generous gift was converted to silver and distributed to all students who had participated in the competition as consolation. Why consolation? Because the final round was cancelled, and all hopes were dashed.

“Qingqing, from now on you should be with me. Yulang was always just a pretty face, useless in the end—by now, he’s surely nothing but a wandering ghost. You and I, a talented pair—wouldn’t we make a fine match?” Once again, Qingqing was pestered by this bothersome “fly” while walking in the small training yard.

The “fly” was named Cang Ying, a year older than Qingqing and a standout in the competition—though all his twenty tokens were actually picked up while Li Dahu and the others were distracted.

Cang Ying was no weakling, already at the upper Ocean-Roving Stage. If not for the chaos caused by the Wind-Chasing Wolf, he might have kept those tokens till the end. In his eyes, Yulang had always been an unhealed wound. It was one thing to lose to geniuses like Nan Jiyun or Wu Songru at the Void-Breaking Stage, but why should a “cripple” like Yulang, whose dantian wasn’t even open, steal all the glory? Whether in the third round or the literary exam, Cang Ying had been burning with resentment.

He pursued Qingqing not out of particular affection, but from a petty need to trample out Yulang’s shadow. Ideally, he’d have liked to vent on Yang Yuhuan, who always treated Yulang with special regard, but he knew better than to cross someone of her background.

Usually, Qingqing would ignore him and things would pass. But today, for whatever reason, Cang Ying was especially persistent—going so far as to grab her sleeve and not let go.

In the scuffle, Qingqing’s sleeve was torn, exposing her pale arm, and she burst into tears on the spot.

The students of Moon-Washing Academy were, for the most part, upstanding and would not stand to see a female student bullied. Qingqing herself had once been bold and unruly, but in these recent days, worry had worn her down.

Xue Wenyang and Xie Zhiqian stepped forward, leading a group of students to form a human wall between Qingqing and Cang Ying.

Xie Zhiqian, who had once slighted Yulang on the day of enrollment, had come to respect his talent. He particularly despised men who bullied women and was the first to draw his sword, challenging Cang Ying to a duel.

“A Hundred Refinements mid-tier against an Ocean-Roving upper tier? Isn’t that like striking a stone with an egg?” The onlookers all sweated for Xie Zhiqian.

Cang Ying, eager to show off, immediately drew his own sword. “If I can’t beat you in three moves, I’ll concede!”

Xie Zhiqian’s family had a storied martial tradition; while his cultivation was average, his swordsmanship was superb. His opening move was “Solitary Cloud Leaves the Mountain,” a renowned technique of the Xie clan, executed with great flair.

Cang Ying, full of himself, met the attack head-on without relying on his cultivation—but soon realized his understanding of swordsmanship was far inferior, leaving him flustered. As the duel approached the third move, Cang Ying, unwilling to lose face, unleashed his full power, smashing his blade into Xie Zhiqian’s abdomen and sending him flying into an ancient tree, where he barely managed to stay upright before coughing up blood.

Cang Ying panicked: in the heat of battle, he’d treated Xie Zhiqian as an equal and hit far too hard.

Just then, Nan Jiyun, emerging from the Martial Practice Hall, witnessed the scene and frowned, preparing to intervene on Yulang’s behalf and teach the irritating Cang Ying a lesson.

Suddenly, something plummeted from the sky, smashing a dent into the hard-packed earth of the training ground.

Amid the swirling dust, a youth wielding a black short blade strode forth.

Cang Ying recoiled as if he’d seen a ghost.

Qingqing, humiliated and distressed, and Xie Zhiqian, gravely injured—seeing both, Yulang’s rage flared.

Sensing imminent doom, Cang Ying realized that, with expulsion from the Academy inevitable, he might as well choose a quick end. With a furious shout, his aura blazed, killing intent to the fore, as he moved to strike Yulang down with a single sword.

But Yulang, preternaturally sharp, dodged even before Cang Ying’s attack landed, and with his own blade, struck Cang Ying’s chest.

As you sow, so shall you reap.

Cang Ying lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at the drifting clouds, feeling as though trapped in a nightmare. His meridians were all shattered; from that day forth, he would be a cripple, slower than an ordinary man at even the simple act of walking.

“Heavens! A Hundred Refinements mid-tier, felling an Ocean-Roving upper tier in a single stroke…”

Nan Jiyun sheathed his massive sword, smiling wryly. “Ah, the recklessness of youth.”

Qingqing glared at Yulang, cheeks puffed in anger, as if vowing never to speak to him again.

Yulang, grinning, tore the sleeves from both sides of his uniform, baring his strong arms and striking a bodybuilder’s pose. “It’s summer—this is how you should dress to stay cool!”

At last, Qingqing couldn’t suppress her smile.

“Enough chatter—Xue, come quickly and see to Xie Zhiqian! Aren’t you the one who studies medicine?”

No one knew that Yulang’s seemingly heroic descent was, in fact, the result of Du Fu—furious—hurling him out of the council chamber.

To use up an entire pool of purification liquid, and not just use it, but take away a flaskful as well! How was Du Fu supposed to cover for him now?