Chapter Forty-Four: Surging Undercurrents in Jinhuan City

Seeing his father pinpoint the key issue in cultivating the “Soul Devouring Seal,” Yang Yan’s heart leapt with joy, and he focused intently, waiting for Zhang Tai to continue.

“The ‘Three Shattering Seals’ have been passed down through generations of the Zhang family. It is said they were created by an ancestor named Zhang Xuanqing.”

“That means our ancestor must have been incredibly powerful!” A strange light flickered in Yang Yan’s eyes as he spoke.

On the continent of Tianyuan, most martial arts techniques and cultivation methods are inherited from ancient times. Only those with profound insight into the Dao are capable of creating new techniques or martial arts—truly the great figures of the cultivation world. Even crafting a new method at the lowest level is exceedingly difficult, for it requires creating something from nothing.

“I’m not sure myself; it’s simply too far back. But I wouldn’t think our ancestor was any weaker than I am now…” Zhang Tai smiled and continued.

“In the ‘Three Shattering Seals,’ the first is the ‘Destruction Seal,’ which emphasizes overwhelming force and dominance, breaking through all obstacles with unstoppable momentum. It’s renowned for its powerful attack. I imagine you’ve experienced this firsthand.”

Yang Yan nodded in agreement with Zhang Tai’s assessment.

During his previous bout with Liu Zhengqing, the ‘Rampaging Dragon Pierces the Heart’ unleashed was the most ferocious blow Yang Yan had ever faced. The ruthless, annihilating force still sent a chill through him when he recalled it.

Truthfully, at the time, Yang Yan had no absolute confidence in deflecting Liu Zhengqing’s strike. But he had entered a state of icy detachment, fearless of anything or anyone, and fortunately, the power of the ‘Destruction Seal’ did not disappoint him.

Looking back now, Yang Yan realized his victory over Liu Zhengqing owed much to luck.

“The Soul Devouring Seal, as its name suggests, finds its essence in the word ‘soul.’”

His father’s words drew Yang Yan from his reverie, and he listened intently.

“The soul is the spirit. To master the ‘Soul Devouring Seal,’ the most crucial step is to imbue it with your soul.”

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“The reason the light seals you condense from spiritual power keep shattering is because they lack a trace of your soul’s strength. Though only a sliver is needed, it is indispensable. With it, the ‘Soul Devouring Seal’ will possess life, maintaining the seal’s presence until the martial technique is successfully executed!”

Zhang Tai spoke calmly and steadily.

“Father, how can I inject my soul’s strength? It’s so elusive—I can barely sense its existence, let alone utilize it…” Yang Yan spoke, somewhat discouraged.

“Haha, all I can do is guide you so far. The rest is for you to ponder and comprehend on your own. Some things can only be understood, not explained. Take time to feel it deeply,” Zhang Tai said, gently patting Yang Yan’s shoulder before leaving the room.

“Feel it with my heart…?” Yang Yan murmured, puzzled.

Time slipped away like sand between fingers. Unnoticed, five days had passed, and today, Jinhuan City was undoubtedly at its liveliest all year.

As the red sun rose, everyone—young and old alike—left their homes early, heading toward the Martial Arena. Today, the champion of the clan tournament would be crowned.

Despite the five-day pause in the tournament, enthusiasm for the final match had only grown. On every street corner, in restaurants and tea houses, the topic on everyone’s lips was unusually unanimous: the once infamous “good-for-nothing young master” of the Zhang family had transformed into a genius.

This shift sparked changes among the city’s family factions. Those previously allied with the Xu family now distanced themselves, some even avoiding them like the plague. The Zhang family, by contrast, enjoyed unprecedented prosperity. In just five days, Yang Yan had seen representatives from a dozen city factions, large and small, come to the Zhang residence with gifts and goodwill.

Besides the Zhangs, the Liu and Sun families were also sought after by various forces.

In his battle with Yang Yan, Liu Zhengqing may have lost, but no one dared underestimate him—a peak third-level cultivator at the age of less than fifteen. Such talent would be remarkable even in the prodigy-filled halls of Qingxuan Sect.

As for Sun Zhixin of the Sun family, her exceptional soul strength and innate fire body drew widespread attention.

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For she possessed the potential to become either an alchemist or an artificer.

Many had heard of a master craftsman within the Flying Cloud Empire, renowned for forging imperial artifacts. Though only at the pinnacle of the Spirit Sea realm, he commanded powerful cultivators willing to serve him. The influence of an artificer was tremendous.

And that of an alchemist was even greater.

If Sun Zhixin were to catch the eye of a master alchemist or artificer and receive proper guidance, her future would be limitless.

Among Jinhuan City’s three great families, the Xu family had always been considered the most dominant and aggressive. The Zhangs, though discreet, were never underestimated; the mere fact that Zhang Quan and Zhang Sheng were disciples of Qingxuan Sect made others wary. The Sun family, meanwhile, was generally seen as the weakest. With the patriarch’s early passing, the family’s large estate was left in the hands of his wife, Madam Han, a Spirit Linking cultivator herself, though not a typical gentlewoman. Yet, people’s biases persisted—cultivators were still predominantly male.

But who could have predicted that a single clan tournament would reveal the true depths and potential of these families, overturning everyone’s perceptions?

Once seemingly invincible, the Xu family failed even to reach the top three. Zhang Yan’s performance spoke for itself, Sun Zhixin displayed boundless promise, and Liu Zhengqing emerged as a dark horse, astonishing all.

In this light, the Xu family had faltered, while the Liu family seemed poised to rise and contend for a place among the city’s elite.

Thus, Jinhuan City, which appeared calm and peaceful on the surface, was in reality seething with hidden currents, like spring water locked beneath winter’s ice.

Yet Yang Yan had no time for such thoughts. Seated in the arena, his brows remained tightly furrowed, for since seeking his father’s guidance, he had made no progress whatsoever in cultivating the Soul Devouring Seal.