The soft glow of spiritual energy illuminated Chen Ying's chamber as he sat cross-legged, his brows furrowed in concentration. His hands moved steadily over the parchment before him, writing down thoughts and calculations, though his mind seemed miles away.
"The spiritual energy in my Saint Soul... with the Yin-Yang constitution... it helped me break through to the Early stage of Foundation Establishment in such a short time. Quite lucky..." he thought, a faint hint of disbelief in his eyes. His gaze drifted briefly toward the window, where the moonlight bathed the room in pale light, and he sighed, rubbing his temple, his face tightening in frustration. "I had to hide my cultivation... better to avoid suspicions."
His pen came to a halt, and his eyes narrowed as the thoughts in his mind became a jumbled mess.
"I can't believe I played that song for Yan Mei... with Ling'er in my heart..." A sting of regret tightened in his chest, and he closed his eyes, trying to push the unwanted memories of Zi Ling, his past lover. The melody of the Guqin still echoed in his ears, haunting him.
As the throbbing pain in his chest intensified, his body responded to the emotional turmoil. He could feel the residue of the poison energy mixing with the resentment that had been fighting against his core during his breakthrough. It was all too much.
He winced, his breathing shallow as the sensation in his chest became unbearable. Without thinking, he reached into his robe and retrieved a small vial of elixir, uncorking it in one fluid motion. The bitter taste of the elixir filled his mouth, but he didn't flinch. Instead, he immediately pressed two fingers against his chest, applying firm pressure as he focused his energy.
The pain didn't subside immediately, but he calmly continued, his fingers moving in a rhythmic pattern, tracing the meridians through his chest, torso, and shoulders. The spiritual energy from the elixir began to merge with his own, healing his body from the inside out, like a river flowing through a cracked dam. His breath came in deep, steady inhales, and with each exhale, the discomfort ebbed away.
"During the breakthrough... the poison energy mixed with the resentment... it fought against my core. Luckily, I have these elixirs I carried with me from my Saint life..." he thought, his hands steady, though his brow was still furrowed in concentration.
He clenched his fist, feeling the tingling sensation of the poison being purged from his system. A pulse of dark, tainted blood rose to his throat, and he spat it out, watching it fall to the floor in a dark splatter. With it, the remaining tension in his chest slowly dissipated, and his breathing evened out.
Now completely recovered, Chen Ying took a moment to steady his thoughts, still trying to regain his emotional composure. He rubbed his temples once more, feeling the strain that lingered from the mental strain of the breakthrough.
Then, as if reminded by some inner force, he shifted his posture, straightening his back and raising his hands into a focused gesture. He began to cultivate, pulling spiritual energy from the surroundings, drawing it into his core as he centered himself in meditation. His body became completely still, the spiritual energy around him beginning to swirl gently in response to his concentration.
Despite his physical healing, the emotional turbulence still lingered in his heart. "I can't let this affect my cultivation," he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as he moved through his breathing exercises with deep, purposeful intent.
The image of Zi Ling lingered on the edges of his mind, but he shut it out, focusing all of his will on the rhythmic flow of energy circulating within him. His fingers twitched slightly as the energy flowed, and the air in the room shimmered as though it were charged with his cultivation. Slowly, the inner chaos began to settle, replaced by the familiar calm focus of the cultivator's mind.
For now, at least, he had pushed aside the remnants of the past and the haunting melody that still echoed in his heart. He had no time to dwell on the past—not now, when there was so much more to achieve.
The Qilin Capital market was bustling with life, the air thick with the scent of freshly prepared delicacies and the clamor of merchants shouting their wares. Yet, amid this chaos, a cold air seemed to follow Chen Jin as he strode through the crowd, flanked by his loyal guards. His gaze was sharp, his jaw clenched with an emotion that could only be described as pure fury.
After a few moments, his eyes locked onto the familiar figure of the old man, the one who had promised to end Chen Ying's life with his so-called poison. The old man was standing beside his humble stall, delicately cleaning an ornate vase with a cloth. As Chen Jin approached, he slammed his fist down onto the wooden table, the force causing the vase to rattle dangerously.
The old man didn't flinch.
"Liar!" Chen Jin's voice rang through the air like a whip. "You promised me it would kill him, and he survived it!" His eyes blazed, his anger seething beneath his words. His hands trembled with barely contained rage as he watched the old man continue to clean the vase, completely unaffected.
The old man let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. "Oh?" he said, a slow smile curling at the corners of his lips. "You didn't prepare it properly, did you?"
At those words, Chen Jin's fury skyrocketed. His veins throbbed as his pulse quickened, but the old man's nonchalant demeanor only fueled his anger.
"Who said I didn't?" Chen Jin gritted his teeth, stepping forward, his boots thudding heavily against the stone ground. "He didn't just survive... His body is capable of cultivation! He has the Celestial Lotus Body! He broke through the middle stage of Qi Condensation! You think I'm lying?!" His voice was laced with contempt, each word dripping with the weight of his frustration.
The old man stopped, the cloth he was using to polish the vase falling from his hands as his eyes widened slightly. The atmosphere around them seemed to thicken, like a storm was about to break.
"Celestial Lotus Body?" The old man's voice was low, almost a whisper, his eyes now fixed intently on Chen Jin. The air between them crackled with a sudden tension, and the market's noise seemed to fade into the background.
"Yes," Chen Jin said through gritted teeth, barely able to contain his emotions. "Do you have any information about this body?"
The old man's gaze darkened as he slowly folded his hands behind his back, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his robes, as if in deep thought. "The Celestial Lotus Body... It is a rare and extraordinary body. It hasn't appeared in over five thousand years. Chen Ying is not the first; he is the second person in history to bear it..." His voice trailed off, as though lost in the depths of his memories.
Chen Jin stood there, fists clenched, his chest tight with the weight of the new information. "Then what happened? How did he gain this body?"
The old man paused, his lips curling into a small, thoughtful smile, as though he were savoring the moment. "You were told that he was born with a Yin Constitution, yes? A flawed and sickly body—an error in the heavens. But how he acquired the Celestial Lotus Body remains a mystery. That poison, from the centipede of the 500-year-old tomb, could not have triggered such a transformation. Not even a Core Foundation cultivator could survive it. And yet, someone who has never cultivated—how could they possibly endure such a thing?"
He shrugged slightly, a movement that seemed dismissive. "There's nothing I can do."
Chen Jin's narrowed eyes burned with frustration. "Chen Ying is a threat. A serious threat to me, to my sect. I don't know how he survived, but there must be great power behind him. It's clear he's supported by something far stronger than I imagined."
The old man's eyes glinted with a sly amusement, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. He turned slowly, his robes swirling around him with a ghostly grace. "Unless... you capture him," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Capture him, and we can deal with him ourselves. He's still weak, just beginning his cultivation. Even someone in the middle stage of Foundation Establishment, like you, could easily overpower him."
Chen Jin's eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam. His lips twisted into a cold smile. "You're right."
The old man's eyes gleamed as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small pouch, shaking it lightly as it jingled with the sound of powder. "Take this," he said, handing the pouch to Chen Jin. "This will render him unconscious. Once he's down, you can deal with him immediately."
Chen Jin accepted the pouch without hesitation, his hand closing around it tightly. "I'll make sure he's unconscious." His voice was filled with cold determination. "And I'll finish what was started."
The old man chuckled, his beard swaying with the movement, and he gently pushed the pouch back towards Chen Jin. "No need to worry about the payment," he said with a wink. "You can take it back. Just make sure you capture him tonight."
With a final glance, Chen Jin nodded, his eyes flashing with a mix of contempt and resolve. As he turned to leave, the market's noise slowly began to return to his ears, but it felt distant, like a murmur in the background. His focus was now entirely on the task at hand.
As Chen Jin's figure disappeared into the shadows of the market, the old man stood silently, watching him go. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling satisfaction, and a low chuckle escaped his lips.
"Yes, you'll capture him tonight… but whether you kill him... or he kills you... that remains to be seen."
He reached down to the vase, his hands once again delicately picking it up. His gaze never left the spot where Chen Jin had disappeared. There was something deep in the old man's eyes—something dangerous.
Back in the bustling market, as night began to fall, the distant hum of the city was broken by a whisper carried on the wind.