Chapter Sixty-Four: Cultivating Spiritual Power

Qi Family Residence.

Crouched beside the medicine furnace, Qi Xiu busied himself sorting through the herbs. Faintly, it seemed as though he was muttering something under his breath—odd syllables, as if speaking in an ancient dialect. With practiced ease, he tossed ingredients into the furnace. Suddenly, his hand paused; his brow furrowed, as if trying to recall something. After a few moments, his expression eased. Those strange and awkward syllables once again spilled from his lips, deep and guttural, nearly impossible to imitate. If this new formula succeeded, it could at least increase the potency of the Fragrant Fish Tendon Elixir by thirty percent.

He closed the lid of the furnace and brushed the dust from his clothes as he walked back into the courtyard, glancing toward the panel before him.

[Green Pool Hidden Scale Heart Scripture: 17.1%]

He was still unwilling to give up the mysterious properties of the Jiao Pond ring. This spell for controlling spiritual implements had now firmly established itself on his proficiency panel. Entering into this Heart Scripture, however, proved easier than Qi Xiu had expected.

Murmuring those awkward, twisted syllables, Qi Xiu lay back on his rocking chair, gazing up at the sky. According to the "Green Pool Hidden Scale Heart Scripture," to cultivate this art, one must first find thirty-six shadow loaches at least fifty years old, draw their heart-blood, and paint sigils upon the skin. Then, every day, one must soak in icy springs, recite the scripture's mantras with the sigils as a guide, absorb the spiritual energy of the cold pool, and thus refine magical power. This process must continue for a full three years before true power could be born within.

When Qi Xiu first saw these requirements, he had slammed the book shut, ready to toss it aside. Fifty-year-old shadow loaches? Soaking in cold springs? Three whole years? In that time, he could master ten true arts and forge his own path—why bother with this cumbersome magic?

Fortunately, reason prevailed. After a moment of grumbling, Qi Xiu rolled his eyes and began studying the mantras for drawing in spiritual energy and refining power.

And as he pondered, a broad avenue forcibly opened before him by the peculiarities of his proficiency skill. Reciting the scripture was part of the cultivation process. Thus, as long as he kept reciting, he was cultivating. In this way, under the iron law that effort always yields reward: reciting the scripture equaled cultivation.

Contentedly crossing his legs, Qi Xiu watched with satisfaction as the progress bar for "Green Pool Hidden Scale Heart Scripture" crept steadily upward. Not bad at all. Cultivating this spell was worthwhile: he gained a new skill without sacrificing time for his other trainings. The only drawback was that it was a bit hard on the tongue. At this rate, in ten days or two weeks at most, he would advance this spell to the first level.

Qi Xiu quietly congratulated himself on his diligence. Rising, he prepared to check the heat of the furnace—when suddenly, a strange fragrance drifted through the air.

“Hm?”

The scent made every hair on his body stand on end. The deep, lingering aroma stirred the energy welling within his dantian. Even the proficiency panel seemed to flicker, as if it, too, longed to leap forward. What could emit such a fragrance—one that could spur his cultivation simply by inhaling it?

Curious and wary, Qi Xiu followed the direction the scent had come from. No, something was off. Perhaps it was a trap. Eyes narrowing, he weighed his options.

…

Song Residence.

Seated upright on a grand chair, Song Tingye gently fanned himself. On the table before him lay a root shaped almost like a tiny person, complete with limbs and features, its golden skin wrapped in a cloth inscribed with ancient red talismans. The golden ginseng exuded a peculiar fragrance.

This ginseng was a rare and wondrous medicine—rich in spirit, harmonizing one’s vital energies. Whether for martial artists or adepts, consuming it would grant twenty years’ worth of cultivation in an instant.

“Yueting, any word yet?” Song Tingye spoke calmly.

This ginseng’s aroma could only be detected by those with profound inner strength. As long as the mysterious expert remained in the city, he was sure to be drawn by the scent. With the ginseng’s value and allure, Song Tingye was confident in brokering a deal.

“Not yet, sir,” replied Sun Yueting, who stood under the eaves nearby, shaking his head.

“No matter. The day is still young.” Though he spoke placidly, Song Tingye felt a trace of surprise. This person had remarkable self-control. From the first birdsong, through the bustle of carts and crowds, to the midday lull, and now as dusk painted the sky crimson and all fell silent, he waited in the courtyard with a darkening expression. The ginseng on the table seemed to mock him with its blurry features.

“Sir, should we keep waiting?” Sun Yueting approached, inwardly amazed. This man had real patience—an entire day had passed and he had not shown himself. Could it be he truly cared nothing for the ginseng? Yet this ginseng, if offered publicly, would surely ignite a storm of bloodshed.

“No more waiting.” Song Tingye snapped his fan shut, frowning.

This was the first time he had been so thoroughly rebuffed.

“So, all this grand display was to wait for me?”

Just as Song Tingye rose to leave, a lazy voice sounded.

When had he arrived? Sun Yueting’s expression shifted as he turned toward the voice. There, leaning against a distant eave, stood a tall man clad in black, his face hidden behind a scarf. Arms crossed, he watched them with a leisurely air. Yet neither Sun Yueting nor anyone else had noticed his arrival.

Such terrifying lightness of movement.

Sun Yueting edged closer to Song Tingye, his palms damp with sweat. If this man had meant harm just now, he would never have been able to stop him.

“At last, you are here. You have made Song wait a long time,” Song Tingye said with a radiant smile. The man’s appearance meant negotiations could begin.

Qi Xiu’s gaze flickered toward the nearly human-shaped ginseng on the table. So, this was the source of that extraordinary fragrance.

“Since you are here, might you sit and converse?” Song Tingye gestured to the chair beside him, his demeanor unruffled, as if he feared nothing from Qi Xiu.

Whoosh—

Almost as soon as Song Tingye finished speaking, Qi Xiu vanished from where he stood, reappearing an instant later in front of the chair. His eerie, spectral movement made Sun Yueting clench his fists. Though a true expert himself, Sun Yueting found cold sweat breaking out on his back.

“What do you want with me?” Seated opposite Song Tingye, Qi Xiu’s eyes kept wandering to the ginseng.

“Nothing much. I simply wish to discuss a business proposition.” Song Tingye smiled faintly.

“The magistrate is a businessman now? I recall that under the Great Xuan’s laws, officials are strictly forbidden from engaging in commerce.”

“Haha, I like your humor. Let us be frank—Song wishes to hire you as my protector. This ginseng will serve as your deposit. Name your price; as long as it is within my power, I will not haggle.”

With a hearty laugh, Song Tingye revealed his true intent, raising a teacup and waiting for Qi Xiu’s reply.

So, you want to hire me as your enforcer, Qi Xiu thought, raising an eyebrow. Without hesitation, he said, “I want the secret method to unlock the mysteries of Ancient Gathering Heavenly Gang…”

“Pfft—”

…