Chapter Thirty-Three: Reentering *Yang Zu’s Record of Flying Swords*

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In the next instant, Jie Peiling felt as though his eyes had been sealed shut. No matter how hard he tried, he could not open them.

The moisture in his hands and the liquid slipping from his mouth told him unmistakably that his life was ebbing away.

At last, he understood what acquired qi was.

“Born in response to thought; replenishment is cultivation. Transformed by the heart, it rises and falls together with true qi, joining with the primordial spirit to become medicine.”

Jie Peiling felt his body growing heavier and heavier. The words Xu Yuanming had once spoken began repeating themselves over and over in his mind.

The pain gradually lessened. The liquid flowing through his body began to grow lighter. Before, it had been like a vast ocean suddenly whipped into towering waves; now, it was more like the tranquil waters of a lake.

The air in the woods gradually dried away, and the strange sensations in his body began to fade.

The pure-white qi grew increasingly faint. It first burrowed into the region of his kidneys, then finally spread throughout his limbs.

At that moment, Jie Peiling felt lighter than ever before. The darkness of night could actually be so bright!

He exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. His vision had never been so clear.

Xu Yuanming clapped his hands, his face filled with satisfaction.

“Very good. You’ve completed the first step: Refining Essence. I’ll give credit where it’s due—your talent is genuinely impressive. Of course, that also has something to do with the foundation you built earlier, which is why you were able to enter the path so quickly. But don’t become conceited. This is only the first step, after all. You still have a long road ahead.”

The joy of having refined his essence did not cloud Jie Peiling’s judgment. He knew this was merely the first step of cultivation, so he answered gravely:

“Yes.”

Xu Yuanming rubbed his forehead and chuckled.

“What kind of answer is that? Young people shouldn’t look so gloomy. Cultivating the Dao doesn’t require you to renounce all desire and pleasure. No matter how powerful a being becomes, they are still human. It’s good to relax and enjoy yourself from time to time.”

Jie Peiling nodded. Seeing that he was fine, Xu Yuanming vanished from sight in a single movement.

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Just then, Wang Shiming approached from a distance carrying food in both hands. After witnessing the scene, he clicked his tongue twice and sighed.

“Looks like his injuries weren’t light either. At the very least, they must have been much worse than mine.”

Jie Peiling’s heart jolted, but he soon felt relieved. From every perspective, Xu Yuanming was merely a calf before Jiang Zhenguang. Yet there was one thing Jiang Zhenguang would never dare gamble with Xu Yuanming: his life.

Xu Yuanming looked down on everything beneath the heavens. His attacks were often irrational, relentless, and utterly heedless of his own safety. He was like a sharpened blade that knew only how to kill, never how to defend. To Jiang Zhenguang, whose every action served only one purpose—to stay alive—such a person exerted an unimaginable pressure.

Wang Shiming cast him a sidelong glance.

“No one has it better than you. You got beaten half to death and somehow became stronger. Damn, you’re lucky. And as if that weren’t enough, you slept through the entire day. Where else could anyone find such a good deal? Come over here and give me a hand.”

Jie Peiling smiled and stepped forward. He had just reached for one of the bags when he realized that Wang Shiming’s hands were already empty. He had placed everything in his own hands.

Jie Peiling was about to say something, but closed his mouth instead. It was only a short distance, after all. It was no great matter.

After walking away, Wang Shiming wiped the sweat from his face. His foundation had been shaken, and he had begun to doubt himself. Rather than gaining insight into the martial path from that battle, he had instead fallen another level. His body had suffered tremendous damage; at present, even an ordinary person could knock him down. He had stopped countless times while carrying the two bags of food here, enduring the stares of who knew how many onlookers.

But he was used to it. Those undisguised looks of confusion and ridicule could no longer stir the slightest ripple in his heart.

Xu Yuanming revealed himself at that moment. After witnessing what had happened, he said coldly:

“Childish.”

“You don’t know a damn thing.”

…

Jie Peiling sat on a stool inside the room. Beside him lay The Record of Yang Zufu’s Flying Sword. For some reason, his head gradually grew heavy, and before long, he fell asleep.

In the next instant, a cold, murderous atmosphere swirled all around him.

When he awoke again, he found himself in an inn. He was somewhat dazed. This bizarre occurrence had happened once before, back at the City God Temple.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Before long, a servant entered. With his head bowed, he said, “Immortal Master, for your merit in subduing demons and eliminating evil, the magistrate requests your presence.”

Jie Peiling had no idea what he meant. When had he ever slain demons?

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After asking a few questions, he learned that after the girl had dealt with the civil and martial deities following the slaying of the woman in white, she had brought him here.

Upon entering the magistrate’s grand hall, the person who drew the most attention was a young man. He seemed to be harboring ill intentions, his expression uneasy from head to toe.

When his eyes met Jie Peiling’s, he shuddered violently and hurried out.

“Who was that?”

Including Jie Peiling, there were four people in the hall. One was the girl he had encountered earlier. Another was an old man dressed in an official robe. His presence was restrained, yet the dense vitality of his blood still pressed upon the air. He was a martial practitioner, and an official tally hung at his waist, making it clear that he belonged to the government.

The old man in official robes was, as expected, the magistrate. He hurried forward, clasped Jie Peiling’s hands, and apologized profusely.

“Immortal Master, please do not take offense. My son was frightened out of his wits by the recent appearance of demons and evil spirits. I beg you, Immortal Master, please do not blame him.”

Jie Peiling nodded without expression. When the magistrate saw this, he secretly exhaled in relief, believing that the Immortal Master would not make things difficult for an ordinary person.

But Jie Peiling did not believe the magistrate’s explanation in the slightest. The look on his son’s face was plainly that of a guilty thief.

The magistrate asked, “How are your injuries, Immortal Master? Would you like to have yourself examined again? A renowned physician has recently arrived here to practice medicine and aid the people.”

Jie Peiling replied, “I wasn’t injured in the earlier battle. I was merely tired. A little rest is all I need.”

At those words, the other three people in the hall all visibly relaxed. But Jie Peiling interpreted their reactions differently. They had all eased up the moment they heard that he was unharmed. Combined with the circumstances, this could only mean that they were plotting something. It was highly likely that some evil cultivator hiding in the shadows had not yet been dealt with.

After speaking with them for a while, Jie Peiling learned that they had recently hosted three traveling “cultivators.”

The magistrate’s son, Chen Zhen’an, claimed that he had encountered an extraordinary opportunity during his journey. He had actually met three “great figures.”

One was a saber-wielding hero, a renowned master from another kingdom who had come here while vanquishing demons and eliminating evil. Even the foremost martial expert of their commandery would very likely die within five moves if he faced that man.

Another was a disciple of a branch lineage of Mount Longhu, the orthodox school of Daoism. The peach-wood sword on his back seemed to pierce the eyes with sword light even when it remained sheathed. Chen Zhen’an had personally witnessed him draw talismans out of thin air and speak words that carried the force of divine edicts, as though a Celestial Master had descended into the mortal world.

Most astonishing of all was the youngest man. He was even more extraordinary—a celebrated Great Sword Immortal. Within a thousand meters, his flying sword swept through the air and took a person’s head directly from their shoulders. Even demons and monsters dared not look upon his true countenance.

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