Lin Shu darted through the forest with relentless speed, his figure cutting between the trees like a shadow chased by the wind. His destination was the Lightning Peak Ranges—a place where storms never ceased, and where the air itself carried the scent of crackling ozone.
There, he would find the final materials for the last stage of his body refinement art. The key among them was the heart of a Thunder Eagle, still warm and beating when taken from the corpse. Alongside it, he would need three other rare ingredients: Stormvine Roots, saturated with years of lightning strikes; Shattered Sky Crystals, fragments formed from boulders split open by thunderbolts; and Azure Fang Serpents' bile, harvested before it cooled and lost its potency.
All of these could be found in the ranges—except the eagle's heart, which would be the true trial. He could hire someone to kill the beast quickly, ensuring the heart stayed fresh, but that would mean revealing too much. If anyone learned what he was attempting, they might start asking questions, and curiosity in the wrong circles was dangerous.
Hunting a Thunder Eagle alone, however, was hardly wiser. Even for a mid-stage cultivator, such a creature was a nightmare of speed and fury. His original plan had been to break through to the high stage before attempting this, but at his current pace, that would take four or five years… far longer than he could afford to wait.
One way or another, he would have to find another path—and soon.
Somewhere inside an old inn, a boy sat alone in his room, his face empty—like his future had been stolen right out of his hands.
Jiang Liechen had fled here the moment he saw the patriarch lashing out at everyone, striking friend and foe alike. In that instant, survival had outweighed fear, and he'd chosen to run.
He had saved his life, yes… but in his own eyes, he was already as good as dead.
"Damnit… damnit… damniiiit!" His fists slammed against the table, his voice cracking with rage. "Why can't I refine any Qi? Why?! I've tried over and over—day after day—but my Dantian just… refuses. It's like a wall, sealed shut, rejecting everything I pour into it! This means I can't cultivate, can't climb even a single step higher! I'm stuck here—stuck forever—at the high stage of Rank 1. If this keeps going…" His breath came in ragged gasps. "Damnit… why…"
Many of Jiang Liechen's ambitions had crumbled to dust. His plan to join the VenomHeart Sect was now shattered—if word spread that he could no longer refine Qi, they would cast him aside without a second thought.
He sat in the dimly lit room, mind racing, searching for a path forward. What cure could possibly save his cultivation? Every known method was either locked away by the great clans or so rare that even Emberwake cultivators fought tooth and nail for them. For someone like him, obtaining such a treasure was laughable. They were never sold—only guarded, passed down to heirs of powerful bloodlines.
Frustration gnawed at him, yet a stubborn ember of defiance refused to go out. He clenched his fists, muttering through gritted teeth, "So be it. I'll take whatever can heal me, even if I have to rip it from the hands of a Titled cultivator. I will grow stronger, no matter the cost."
The words rang bold, brimming with conviction. But in truth, snatching something from a Titled cultivator was no different than trying to strike down a general of the empire—a feat impossible for Monster's like lu heng and jiang wuyu let alone an ant like him.
Back on the road to the Lightning Ranges, Lin Shu stopped by a cave to rest and inspect what he had taken from Han Yi.
He started with the obvious—pills and gold. After a quick count, he realized he now had an extra four thousand gold coins. The azure crystals were far more impressive; by his estimation, they were worth at least twenty-one thousand gold. Combined with the thirteen thousand he already possessed, his wealth now totaled thirty-eight thousand gold coins. The corner of his lips tugged upward—more than enough for the body refinement art he had in mind.
Next, he turned to the two items he suspected were artifacts.
The first was a silver ring set with a blue stone. He channeled Qi into it, waiting for some reaction. When the stone finally shimmered faintly, he pointed it toward the sky… but nothing happened.
"What is this supposed to do? Maybe it's defensive… or for healing."
To test it, he tried attacking himself—but nothing. He even made a shallow cut along his hand, yet no reaction came. No matter how many times he forced Qi through it, the result was the same: nothing.
"Don't tell me she carries around a normal ring with no use," he muttered, disappointed. Still, he slipped it away—just in case his understanding was too shallow to unlock its function.
He then examined the necklace. Again, no reaction when he tried to use it offensively. He even cut himself to see if it might heal him—and this time, lightning burst from the pendant, lashing toward the wound. Flesh knitted together at a shocking pace, closing completely within seconds.
The effect ended just as abruptly as it began.
"I guess it eats through Qi fast," he thought, sensing how much had been drained. "A quarter of my reserves… for only a few seconds of healing."
"But I only need to charge it before any battle and simply use it then," thought Lin Shu.
He moved on to the scrolls within Han Yi's ring. Many were nothing more than poems and letters, which he decided he would read later—after he found any technique worth his attention. His fingers sifted through parchment after parchment, his eyes scanning each one with growing impatience, until finally… he found something promising.
Clear Path Cultivation Technique — a high-tier Rank 1 cultivation method.
He unrolled the scroll further, reading the description with care. The technique was designed to refine Qi with exceptional efficiency, clearing away the 'waste Qi' and impurities that slowed down progress. It guided the cultivator's breathing and circulation patterns so precisely that every drop of Qi gathered would be absorbed and stored without loss, like water flowing through a perfectly polished channel. Not only did it shorten the time needed to advance, but it also reduced the strain on the dantian and meridians, allowing a cultivator to train for longer periods without risking injury.
For someone with the patience and endurance to push it to its limits, this method promised to turn years of effort into mere months.
Lin Shu snorted inwardly. Most of this was probably exaggerated nonsense—what Rank 1 technique dared to promise what even Rank 2 methods could not? He could believe it might shave years off cultivation, but months? That was wishful thinking. For him, it might cut the time to reach the high stage from five years to a guaranteed four… perhaps even three, if he managed to get his hands on a Crimson Flow Pill to purge the remaining impurities from his body.
"Alright, I guess that's all," he murmured. Lin Shu was pleased with the gains, yet a faint disappointment lingered. He had expected Han Yi to carry more valuable treasures. Instead, there was only one cultivation technique and a handful of gold coins.
"Well, an artifact on its own is worth thousands of gold coins," he thought, turning the weapon over in his hands. From the weight, the balance, and the faint pressure it radiated, he guessed it to be an Ascendant weapon.
Lin Shu went through Han Yi's letters, hoping there might be something worth his attention. Perhaps some secret, a hidden lead, or even a profitable scandal. Instead, he found the usual—warm exchanges between her and her mother, notes from Lu Zhenhai, and letters from someone named Han Lei. If he recalled correctly, the older students at the institute spoke of Han Lei as a prodigy.
Most of the letters were the same—family well-wishes, personal chatter, nothing that could be sold for gold or used as leverage.
Without hesitation, Lin Shu tossed the papers into the flames. Along with them went her clothes and anything else of no value. He kept her bows—those could fetch a decent price later—then lay down to sleep.
By morning, rain had begun to fall, thin and steady. Lin Shu moved on, the soft drizzle soon swelling into a heavier downpour that hissed against the ground.
Several times along the road, bandits sprang from hiding—mostly ragged mortals led by one feeble cultivator each. They didn't last long. Lin Shu cut them down without pause, stripping their bodies of anything even remotely valuable. A single gold coin, a rusted blade, a half-filled pouch—it didn't matter. In this world, every scrap of wealth counted. The fool who only reached for treasures would one day starve while staring at an empty hand.
The road ahead grew livelier. Carts rattled past at reckless speeds, some chased by blood beasts whose claws scraped deep grooves into the mud. Above, cultivators soared through the rain, streaks of Qi carrying them across the sky. Some stood on their own swords as if weightless.
Lin Shu felt the pressure in the air shift—Rank 2 cultivators were far more common here, their auras prickling against his skin. One presence in particular made him slow his step. This person didn't even need to restrain their aura for it to smother the space around them. Even other Rank 2 cultivators gave them a wide berth, swerving their flight paths to avoid coming close.
Lin Shu didn't dare linger on the thought. He kept walking, head down, letting the rain wash over him. There was no point inviting trouble that didn't need to find him.