Frankly speaking, the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method found the scene before it rather puzzling.
The so-called "hypothetical" that Gu Chengming had posted contained no profound universal truths, touched on no cultivation secrets, and even the one million spirit stones were pure fantasy.
[It felt confused. Could this really increase the sense of belonging in the Myriad Wonders Assembly?]
The other cultivation methods each had their own reactions.
[The Qingxin Formula watched from the side, thoroughly entertained.]
[It decided you were simply a genius at manufacturing fun, and found you more and more interesting by the day.]
[Qingxin Formula Affinity +5]
[Current Affinity: 75 / Fond]
[Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following watched with cold detachment and let out a quiet snort, thinking to itself: sword cultivators are such idiots — how can they actually argue over something like this?]
Only the Hundred Bones Resonance had a reaction entirely unlike all the others.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance stared at the post and sank into deep contemplation.]
[Option One's land of extreme cold is an excellent place for tempering the skin and membranes. I know not what manner of constitution 'ice-tempered jade bones' might be, but it cannot be poor. Option Three, though it offers no external aids, hones the spirit and mind — it is better suited for physical cultivation.]
[Option Three! No, wait — Option One?]
Gu Chengming was speechless.
You're actually picking one for real?
The Myriad Wonders Assembly developed exactly as Gu Chengming had predicted.
But as he continued posting more and more threads, the number of "active users" in the Assembly grew steadily as well.
There were still plenty of lurkers, but at the very least, they were logging in every day to see what was going on.
Before long, posts in the Myriad Wonders Assembly began multiplying.
[Request for advice: Fellow Daoists, could anyone tell me about the quality of the pills sold at the Hundred Herbs Hall on the west side of the Outer Gate? I hear they're having a sale recently — worth buying?]
It was a practical question, and a safe one.
Replies came quickly. "Fellow Daoist, be careful! The Qi-Recovery Pills I bought last time were cut with flour — only half the potency!"
"Nonsense, it was substandard spirit herbs, not flour. Still, I wouldn't recommend them either. If you really want pills, go to the Danxiang Pavilion in the East Market — pricier, but genuine."
"Seconded. The Hundred Herbs Hall isn't worth a dog's visit."
Reading through the replies, the disciple who had posted the question visibly relaxed and rattled off three "Many thanks, fellow Daoist!" in quick succession.
Once the first person dared to dip their toes in, the rest came flooding after like fish crossing a river.
"When I practice the sword technique 'Fensplit,' my wrist always aches terribly and my spiritual energy flows poorly. Why is that?"
"Is that senior sister from Daoning Gate with the surname Wang off her rocker? I just happened to glance her way on the road and she accused me of having ill intentions!"
For questions related to swordsmanship, Gu Chengming would occasionally chime in with a reply.
Thanks to the Huiyuan Sword Art's maxed-out affinity and the lofty sword intent unlocked by Flowing Light, Sword Shadows, his grasp of foundational sword techniques had long since surpassed nearly every outer disciple — and even held its own against some inner disciples.
[The technique 'Fensplit' is about intent preceding the sword, not raw force. Try sinking your spiritual energy three inches lower, routing through the Quchi point rather than the Taiyuan point — the sword momentum will flow naturally from there.]
The disciple who had posted the question tried it immediately and was thunderstruck. He came back at once to give thanks:
"Many thanks for the guidance, Senior! The bottleneck that's been plaguing me for half a month actually broke through! I'll never forget this kindness as long as I live! Might I ask your honorable name, Senior?"
Gu Chengming naturally left no name.
This performance of "mysterious expert gives guidance online" instantly ignited the crowd's enthusiasm.
And once people realized that the Assembly genuinely offered a place to help one another, its stickiness began to climb steadily.
For all anyone knew, that mysterious stranger who had just casually guided you could be some true-transmission senior brother in the sect with nothing better to do — or even an elder!
This speculation instantly elevated the Myriad Wonders Assembly's prestige by several rungs.
And as time passed, the membership of the Assembly kept growing, its stickiness deepening with every passing day.
[The Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method was profoundly shaken.]
[It could not understand why a fictitious one million spirit stones proved more effective than its own promise of jointly witnessing the Grand Dao.]
[But it could feel it clearly — through this chaotic exchange of information, the spirit-sense web that had once been so loose was becoming tight and resilient.]
[Effortlessly perceiving the weaknesses of human nature, playing this entire group of cultivators in the palm of one hand, transforming scattered sand into solid bedrock.]
[Now THIS is what a true shadowy puppet-master looks like!]
[Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method Affinity +10]
[Current Affinity: 55 / Friendly]
Success.
Gu Chengming was thoroughly pleased.
Of course, his main reason for investing so much effort in the Myriad Wonders Assembly wasn't simply to raise the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method's affinity.
There was another purpose — one he had conceived even before the Assembly was built: his strategy for winning over Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following.
As a veteran Galgame player, Gu Chengming naturally understood the importance of laying careful groundwork — especially when running multiple routes in parallel, where a single misstep could send you spiraling into the Bad Ending of permanent singledom.
Judging that the moment was ripe, Gu Chengming thought for a brief moment, then reached his spirit-sense into the Assembly under an ordinary disciple's anonymous identity and posted a new thread in the most prominent spot.
[Rational Discussion: Has the Yunyue Sect's Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following Sword Art been seriously overrated? Feels weaker than our Wenjian Sect's beginner swordsmanship.]
The title had been carefully chosen.
The Wenjian Sect and the Yunyue Sect were rivals by nature; their disciples had never stopped jostling with each other in both open and covert ways. Especially now, with the Yunyue Sect having shown up to stomp on their faces, many disciples were already seething. Dragging one of the rival sect's signature sword arts through the mud was guaranteed to generate enormous discussion.
Sure enough, the moment the post went up, it detonated the Myriad Wonders Assembly.
"What nerve, fellow Daoist! Much as I also despise those hypocrites from Yunyue Sect, the Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following Sword Art genuinely has something to it — didn't our senior brother Zhou narrowly lose to that very technique?"
"Hmph, that's because Senior Brother Zhou got careless! In my opinion, that so-called Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following is pure flash and no substance — looks great, hits like a back-scratch in a real fight!"
"Exactly! Sword cultivators should be direct and forceful. What's the point of dressing everything up with music and rhythm? It's neither fish nor fowl!"
"Can't entirely say that… I've heard that if the art is trained to its ultimate limit, it can resonate with heaven and earth. It really is powerful."
Watching the thread stack up to hundreds of replies at a dizzying rate, Gu Chengming decided the moment was just about right.
He switched to another anonymous identity, slipped into the crowd, and began steering the narrative.
"Fellow Daoists, I actually think the original poster has a point. But it isn't that this art is weak — it's that it has walked down the wrong road."
This anonymous voice had a distinctly professional tone, radiating the aura of someone who truly knew what they were talking about:
"According to ancient records, Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following was originally the supreme secret art of a primordial Resonance Sect, built on the principle of entering the Dao through music, transforming all things into strings. What a refined and profound state of being that must have been!"
"But those people in the Yunyue Sect, in their pursuit of killing power, forcibly remade it into a sword art."
"The sword art may be sharp, but it has lost that original spirit of 'clouds follow no fixed pattern, the moon waxes and wanes' — that flowing freedom. Forcing sword intent to drive musical rhythm is like caging a bird in flight. It looks imposing, but in truth, it is strangling the soul of this art."
"In my view, this is no improvement at all. It is a desecration — the greatest insult ever done to this art!"
The moment those words landed, the thread's atmosphere shifted completely.
The disciples who had been arguing about whether the art was strong or weak were instantly drawn in by this fresh angle.
"Hmm? The fellow Daoist above actually makes a fair point."
"That's true — whenever I watched Yunyue Sect members use this technique, something always felt off. So that's what it was!"
"Taking a perfectly good Resonance Sect art and forcing it into a sword art — the Yunyue Sect really is just a bunch of uncultured barbarians with no appreciation for elegance!"
"If someone could restore it to its original form — even without using it to kill — just the artistic conception alone would probably be enough to overwhelm the rest of us common mortals, wouldn't it?"
"What a waste. A pearl cast before swine!"
[Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following read Gu Chengming's words — in particular the line about "caging a bird in flight" — and could not help but pause.]
[Yes. Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following — flowing cloud, following the moon. It ought to use music to resonate with heaven and earth. Yet sword cultivators knew only how to bind cloud and moon into a sword, and no one had ever cared about what it originally was.]
[But reading these words, it suddenly realized that someone still remembered what it had once been. Someone felt sorrow and indignation on its behalf.]
[Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following still disliked sword cultivators. But it felt that the person who could speak those words might not be quite as detestable as the rest.]
[It even found itself feeling a faint, subtle sense of recognition toward you — the one who had guided this discourse.]
[Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following Affinity +10]
[Current Affinity: 25 / Distant]
Gu Chengming let out a long breath as he watched the affinity finally tick upward.
Right direction.
For a character type like Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following, simple flattery was useless. You had to make it feel understood — and the simplest way to do that was to talk about its origins. Its original family, so to speak.
Gu Chengming thought back to his Galgame days: this type of character always had the most dramatic before-and-after transformation once you cracked their route.
He just didn't know yet whether Flowing Cloud, Moon-Following would prove to be the same.
Right at that moment, another notification window popped up before him.
[Hundred Bones Resonance: Lord Heavenly Emperor Gu! That post just now says click here to win one million spirit stones — hurry up, don't miss out!]
Oh for the love of — Old Hundred, can you please stop playing the fool?
Several more days slipped by.
The sun tilted west, and dappled shadows from the trees traced long, ink-dark strokes across the flagstones of the small courtyard.
At that moment, a knock came at the courtyard gate — urgent, but still polite.
"Senior Brother Gu, are you in?"
It was Jiang Lu's voice.
Gu Chengming set down his teacup, flicked his sleeve to sweep the gate open, and saw Jiang Lu standing there flushed with excitement — his expression barely concealing an almost uncontrollable elation, like a man who had stumbled upon some incredible treasure but was straining to maintain a shred of composure.
"Junior Brother Jiang, what brings you by today?"
Gu Chengming smiled and gestured for him to take a seat.
Jiang Lu didn't stand on ceremony. He strode over to the stone table, sat down, and didn't even bother picking up his tea before lowering his voice to ask:
"Senior Brother Gu, have you been cultivating the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method lately?"
Gu Chengming's brow arched slightly. He feigned ignorance:
"I've been absorbed in swordsmanship research and story writing lately — been a bit lax with the method, I'm afraid. Why? Has something gone wrong with it?"
"Not at all! Quite the opposite — this is a tremendous stroke of fortune!"
"Senior Brother, you don't know! Just two days ago, I was running through the method as usual when my spirit-soul was suddenly drawn to a mysterious place called the Myriad Wonders Assembly! It was shrouded in grey mist — you couldn't see anything — but through spirit-sense impressions, you could communicate with fellow disciples who practice the same method!"
Junior Brother Jiang, your information is really behind the times — it's been nearly a week already.
He thought this, but didn't interrupt.
In truth, Gu Chengming wasn't playing dumb just to tease his junior brother — he was genuinely curious to hear an ordinary disciple's unfiltered impression of the Myriad Wonders Assembly.
Clearly still quite excited, Jiang Lu continued:
"And the people there are truly remarkable. Just a few days ago, I hit a bottleneck while practicing the Fensplit sword technique, and in a moment of frustration, I vented about it in the Assembly. To my complete surprise, an anonymous senior expert casually offered a few pointers — and just like that, my mind opened wide! A problem that had plagued me for half a month was resolved in an instant."
"Is that so?"
Gu Chengming set down his teacup and allowed a suitably surprised and skeptical expression onto his face:
"Junior Brother Jiang, this sounds a bit too extraordinary. Could it not be some kind of demonic hallucination?"
"Absolutely not a hallucination!"
Jiang Lu said with absolute conviction:
"The quality of those pointers was far beyond anything someone of my cultivation could have invented in my own head. That senior's understanding of the Sword Dao must have reached a state of consummate mastery — they could well be a true-transmission senior brother from the inner sect, or even an elder passing through out of boredom!"
Watching Jiang Lu's thoroughly convinced expression, Gu Chengming couldn't help but feel a quiet, complicated emotion stir within him.
"There's more," Jiang Lu added, as though he had just remembered something:
"Senior Brother, are you aware that the Assembly is currently buzzing about one big topic? Someone posted a hypothetical involving one million spirit stones — asking everyone to choose between a Frigid Hollow, an Elysian Heights, and a Great Peak Mountain. The debate has been absolutely fierce."
Gu Chengming: "…"
So that bait post is still trending, huh.
"Oh? And which did Junior Brother Jiang choose?" Gu Chengming asked, following along.
"Me?"
Jiang Lu froze for a moment, then scratched the back of his head with a touch of embarrassment. "Unworthy as I am, I picked the Frigid Hollow — figured it would help temper my resolve."
"Tempering resolve. Yes, a fine reason indeed."
Seemingly feeling a little guilty, Jiang Lu hastily changed the subject:
"In any case, Senior Brother Gu — you absolutely must go try it again! The numbers aren't huge yet, but that feeling of everyone being equal, free to speak your mind without restraint — it's genuinely exhilarating! And I've even heard that people in there are discussing the flaws in the Yunyue Sect's sword arts, making some really eye-opening points!"
Gu Chengming felt a quiet stir in his heart.
So the current he had stirred up had worked even better than he'd expected.
"Since Junior Brother recommends it so highly, I'll go take a look a bit later," Gu Chengming said with a smile.
Jiang Lu, satisfied at having successfully made his pitch, chatted idly for a few more moments before taking his leave.
Meanwhile, at Qingfeng Gate of the Wenjian Sect, atop a solitary peak.
Mist and clouds wound through the pines and cypresses there — it was Zhao Wuji's private cultivation retreat.
At this moment, he sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, turning a jade slip in his fingers, his brow furrowed slightly.
In recent days, a strange undercurrent seemed to have spread among the outer disciples and even some of the inner ones.
Many disciples had been muttering and whispering during their cultivation sessions, occasionally gathering in small groups and speaking in hushed tones about something called "Myriad Wonders."
As a responsible elder, Zhao Wuji was not one to simply look the other way.
After a quiet and unobtrusive investigation, he quickly traced it back to its source — the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method.
About that cultivation method known as the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method, he actually knew a thing or two.
Several years ago, an unknown expert within the sect had devised it on a whim — specifically to address the problem of low-ranked disciples suffering from unstable Dao-hearts and lapses in cultivation discipline.
The underlying principle wasn't complicated. In plain terms, it used a particular spiritual energy circulation route to create a kind of positive psychological suggestion within the spirit-sea — generating a subtle illusion in the cultivator's mind that boosted their confidence and encouraged them to practice alongside their peers.
The intention had been good, naturally.
But after the method was introduced, it had actually stirred quite a debate among the sect's senior leadership.
Some elders felt the method was deceptive — not upright or above-board. Others believed that for low-ranked disciples it was a sound remedy, and that as long as it raised cultivation levels, the means mattered little.
Zhao Wuji had always stayed neutral on the matter.
In his view, cultivation was ultimately a personal affair.
If a cultivator couldn't even endure a little solitude and setback, and needed something akin to coddling a child just to keep their Dao-heart intact, then perhaps immortality wasn't for them.
So he had never paid the method any attention, and had no intention of wading into the arguments around it.
But recently, the momentum of this "Myriad Wonders Assembly" had grown a bit too large.
Large enough that even he — a man who kept his ears firmly shut to the outside world — had caught more than a few whispers about it.
"Anonymous communication, spirit-sense imprints, and now apparently capable of constructing an independent spirit-mind realm separate from the mortal world…"
Zhao Wuji's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of puzzlement crossing his eyes.
As far as he knew, the original Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method had a few clever touches, but it absolutely should not have been capable of anything this sophisticated.
That was strange.
"Could it be that the Sovereign has modified the method again?"
Zhao Wuji speculated inwardly.
If a Sovereign had intervened, that would explain things well enough. Great cultivators commanded unfathomable power and boundless technique — refining and innovating upon an existing method would be no great feat for them.
But…
Zhao Wuji reconsidered and felt something still didn't sit right.
Could this be the deliberate handiwork of someone with a hidden agenda, someone trying to muddy the waters?
This was a time of many troubles. With the Yunyue Sect's provocation imminent, the sect's internal mood was unsettled.
If an outside enemy or an internal traitor were using this method to spread rumor and manipulate disciples, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Especially with that so-called "anonymity" mechanism.
"Either way, it still needs to be investigated."
Zhao Wuji turned back into his meditation chamber and rummaged from a corner of his storage ring a dust-covered jade slip.
It was the copy of the Myriad Mysteries Convergence Method distributed by the Merit Transmission Hall years ago. Zhao Wuji sat cross-legged, sent his divine sense into the slip, and carefully read through the formula he already knew by heart once more.
Satisfied it was correct, he slowly closed his eyes and began circulating his spiritual energy through the specified route.
Zhao Wuji did not rush in. Drawing on his deep cultivation and keen perception, he methodically checked whether the spiritual energy circulation concealed any hidden trap-doors, whether the spirit-soul fluctuations contained any malicious guidance, and whether the method was siphoning any of his foundational essence.
A quarter of an hour passed.
Half an hour passed.
Zhao Wuji slowly opened his eyes, a trace of surprise flickering within them.
The method's circulation route was clean and straightforward — no trace of any evil or sinister energy, and not the slightest sign of anything predatory or controlling.
"Interesting."
Since the method was harmless, he might as well go and explore this so-called Myriad Wonders Assembly.
He steadied his breath, followed the method's guidance, and split off a thread of his spirit-sense.
The familiar walls of his meditation chamber vanished, replaced by a grey, hazy expanse of chaotic space.
Mists churned and billowed, and countless faint points of light drifted within.
Zhao Wuji was quietly impressed.
The construction technique was a touch rough around the edges, but the ingenuity of the concept more than made up for it — particularly that ever-present "Myriad Wonders Mist," which proved capable of obstructing even his divine sense to a meaningful degree.
He reined in his contempt and guided his thread of spirit-sense to make itself into an inconspicuous point of light, blending into the grey mist.
The moment he entered, several lines of floating text caught his eye.
These were the currently hottest threads in the Myriad Wonders Assembly.
Zhao Wuji's gaze swept across them. He first noticed the discussion about the Yunyue Sect's sword art, and gave an inward nod of approval.
The analysis of sword principles within was somewhat one-sided, but it also contained genuine insight.
Then his attention was snagged by another, far more conspicuous title.
[Rational Discussion: Is Elder Zhao Wuji the foremost talent of the previous young generation at the Wenjian Sect?]
Even with a Dao-heart tempered by years of cultivation, Zhao Wuji could not help but give a faint start the instant those words met his eyes.
An instant later, a wave of pleasure rose from somewhere deep in his chest.
This thread had quite an eye for quality.
Though he, Zhao Wuji, had always kept a low profile and disliked drawing attention, he had his own internal measure of his own strength.
In his day, he had carved his way out from among countless prodigies. Had he not later switched to a steadier path for the good of the sect, who else could possibly claim the title of "foremost of the younger generation" but him?
In the spirit of "let me see how these youngsters praise me," Zhao Wuji clicked into the thread.
The original poster was clearly one of his devoted fans — the post ran on at great length, cataloguing a long string of his glorious deeds from decades past.
[Back in the day, Elder Zhao's sword came like a wind from the west; at Soul-Severing Valley, he held off three demonic cultivators alone and emerged unscathed — what bearing he had!]
[And then there was that great sect tournament — though Elder Zhao did not take first place, his 'Breeze Through Willows Sword' technique remains a model for sword cultivators to this day!]
[In my opinion, Elder Zhao is not only formidably powerful, but what is rarer still is his unruffled composure — that is the mark of a true strong cultivator!]
Reading through the replies lavish with such praise, the smile at the corner of Zhao Wuji's mouth grew broader and broader.
Young people these days may be a bit restless, but their judgment isn't bad.
However, just as he was about to exit the thread in contented satisfaction, the mood abruptly shifted.
[Elder Zhao Wuji is only as impressive as he is because Qingfeng Gate has been hyping him up. If you're going by actual records on paper, isn't Elder Ren Wencai clearly superior?]
Zhao Wuji's brow arched upward.
He endured it and kept reading.
The person pushing back had clearly come prepared, immediately throwing out a string of hard facts:
[Let's let the numbers speak. On the Prodigy Rankings thirty years ago, Elder Ren placed seventh — Elder Zhao, eleventh.]
[In the Netherworld Secret Realm trials twenty-five years ago, Elder Ren harvested three fourth-grade spirit herbs and slew five second-realm demon beasts; Elder Zhao obtained one fourth-grade spirit herb and had no recorded kills.]
[And in the sect's internal competition fifteen years ago — though the two never faced each other directly, Elder Ren's lineage of disciples took first place!]
[Entry by entry, Elder Ren Wencai came out ahead almost every single time. On what grounds is Elder Zhao Wuji considered number one?]
By the time Zhao Wuji reached this point, his expression had gone rather dark.
Where did this ignorant little brat come from?!
Cultivation cannot be judged by such superficial metrics!
What kind of person was Ren Wencai? That man was infamous for playing it safe and cleaning up other people's scraps!
During the Netherworld Secret Realm, it was clearly he, Zhao Wuji, who had drawn fire at the front, holding down the main force of demon beasts — only then could Ren Wencai lurk at the back and poach those spirit herbs.
As for the Prodigy Rankings… Hmph. Empty prestige!
Yet the argument in the thread rolled on, growing more and more heated.
The faction supporting Zhao Wuji was clearly losing ground — after all, the opposition was citing concrete, verifiable achievements.
[You do know what Elder Ren Wencai was actually doing in all those instances, right?]
Finally, one of Zhao Wuji's defenders snapped and fired back:
[Every single trial, he retreated to the back of the group; the moment any danger appeared he was the first one running. What kind of strong cultivator does that look like? Every one of those achievements was won through underhanded opportunism! A dishonorable victory!]
Zhao Wuji gave a small nod.
Correct. Now that's a fair assessment.
[All's fair in war — that's called wisdom! The cultivation world is brutal; the one who survives wins. Besides, why didn't Elder Zhao play opportunist as well? Did he not want to?]
[Because Elder Zhao has integrity! He's above that sort of thing!]
Zhao Wuji nodded in heartfelt agreement.
Precisely so!
[Fine, you win. Elder Zhao Wuji is indeed number one in raw power among the previous young generation — anyone who wanted first place needed his permission, and Elder Zhao, being a man of fine character, always granted it.]
Crack.
In the physical world, the jade cup in his hand shattered soundlessly into powder.
On the other side.
Sunlight filtered through the latticed window, casting dappled patterns across Gu Chengming's shoulders.
Inside the small courtyard, all was still — save for the soft, dry rustle of wind through the old scholar tree.
Gu Chengming sat cross-legged on his cot, eyes gently closed, a faint golden luminescence radiating from his body.
With each rise and fall of his breath, that golden light surged and receded like the tide — and with each contraction and expansion, his bones inside let out a faint, crisp crackling, like the ringing of metal on metal.
This was the last time.
As the long progress bar within his mind finally filled to completion, that constant, suffocating sensation of having his speech centers hijacked rapidly lifted.
"Finally…"
[Primordial Imperial Merit CG Fully Unlocked]
Before him, the long-awaited notification appeared right on schedule, followed immediately by the detailed skill panel expanding outward.
[Hundred Bones Resonance CG / Primordial Imperial Merit: Derived from the Hundred Bones Resonance's experiences within the illusory realm, combined with its own extreme conviction in 'break down first, build anew,' and later optimized by the Hundred Bones Resonance to meet specific needs.]
[Effect (Active): Can be activated in two stages.]
[Stage One: Host gains the blessing of the Primordial Imperial Aura. During this period, physical defense increases by 30%, and the Host gains the special status "Weak Sovereign," with its duration significantly extended.]
[Stage Two: Physical defense increases by double; Host gains the special status "Sovereign."]
[Duration: One hour (Stage One extendable to two hours)]
[Cooldown: One day]
One full day's cooldown — now that's what a proper cheat ability should look like.
Just as he was about to close the panel and get up to stretch his limbs, a new string of notifications appeared.
[CG "Primordial Imperial Merit" detected as Fully Unlocked]
[Calculating accumulated Affinity]
[Hundred Bones Resonance Affinity +10]
[Current Affinity: Adoration (85/100)]
[Affinity Status Changed: Elevated from [Fond] to [Adoration]]
Gu Chengming blinked.
"So affinity gained while under a CG is accumulated in the background without displaying in real time?"
No wonder — despite spending every single day playing out the Heavenly Emperor routine with Old Hundred throughout this period, the affinity had stayed stuck at 75 without moving an inch.
Only…
His gaze lingered on those two characters — "Adoration" — for a long moment, and his expression grew somewhat peculiar.
If it were the Huiyuan Sword Art or the Qingxin Formula — those mischievous, big-sister types — "Adoration" would be perfectly within the range of normal…
But this was the Hundred Bones Resonance!
The Hundred Bones Resonance — the one who had "Sovereign," "insects," and "tear through the nine heavens and ten earths" on constant rotation!
Having "Adoration" suddenly appear on its status made him feel oddly… off.
Was it because of the overwhelming impression Old Hundred had left on him as a divine figure?
Right after that, a new line of notifications appeared.
[Permanent Attribute Points Gained: Constitution +3]
[Passive Trait Gained: [Hundred Bones in Full Resonance]]
The instant the notification fell, every muscle and bone in Gu Chengming's body let out a chorus of crisp snaps, and a tide of vitality surged through him.
That tide of vitality washed through his entire body — a constitution enhancement far beyond anything he had experienced before — making his heart pound like a war drum, his blood surging like a rushing river.
Feeling the exuberant energy roiling inside him, Gu Chengming glanced at the information at the bottom of the panel.
[Current Remaining Lifespan: Sixty-three years]
"Hah…"
Old Hundred, you really did hand me a pleasant surprise the moment you came out of seclusion.
With a vaguely complicated feeling he couldn't quite name, and once the remodeling of his body had gradually settled, Gu Chengming turned his attention to the new passive trait he had acquired.
[Passive Trait: Hundred Bones in Full Resonance]
[Bones hard as metal and stone, resonant as claps of thunder — the Host's skeletal strength is greatly enhanced, and the body maintains a constant subtle high-frequency vibration. This vibration automatically disperses and neutralizes external impacts, granting immunity of up to 20% against blunt strike damage, and greatly increasing the Host's resistance to aura, pressure, and spirit-shock type attacks.]
— Old Hundred, turns out you really are a divine skill.
Gu Chengming couldn't help but marvel inwardly.
Yet, to his surprise, the Hundred Bones Resonance was unusually quiet at this moment.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance let out a long sigh. The dream is over.]
Its voice carried the melancholy of someone waking from a long sleep and finding the dream gone.
Throughout the past month, even as it had been playing the role of the "Heavenly Emperor," it had been perfectly aware, deep down, that it was all just a kind of "performance" under the CG state.
But within those CG-shrouded memories — it was no longer a cultivation method left to gather dust in some forgotten corner. It was no longer the entity that had to rely on Gu Chengming "paying" to feed it scraps just to barely preserve its dignity.
It had been an Emperor who swept through the ages, wielding an invincible body, gazing down upon all under heaven — and it had had a companion who would stand shoulder to shoulder with it, undaunted even before gods and buddhas:
Gu Chengming.
And now, the CG was over.
[The Hundred Bones Resonance felt a little dejected.]
Old Hundred, this sudden vulnerability you're showing is genuinely embarrassing!
Gu Chengming felt a surge of righteous exasperation, and as a seasoned Galgame player, the words that followed came almost instinctively:
"Who said it's over? Isn't it only just beginning?"
[Hearing those words, the Hundred Bones Resonance was struck momentarily dumb.]
[It murmured, barely audible: "…Just… just beginning?"]
[Yes! It was destined to become the Heavenly Emperor!]
[If that was a dream — then turn it into reality!]
[An unprecedented surge of grand ambition roiled through its heart, and as it looked at you, it felt your current silhouette overlap perfectly with the Gu Chengming from the CG.]
[It would walk alongside you — from this outer gate, step by step — punching through the nine heavens and ten earths, until they truly stood at the very pinnacle of the immortal realm!]
[Hundred Bones Resonance Affinity +5]
[Current Affinity: Adoration (90/100)]
Paying no mind to the rising affinity, Gu Chengming finally gave a satisfied nod.
Yes — that's the Heavenly Emperor I know.
Outside the window, night was deepening. The small courtyard lay in the tranquil hush of peaceful days, as if all the turmoil of the outside world could not reach this place.
Gu Chengming poured himself a cup of tea, even finding the leisure to muse on whether he ought to craft a battle-power ranking post tomorrow to give the Myriad Wonders Assembly some fresh material.
Yet the tree may desire stillness, but the wind will not cease.
Just when Gu Chengming thought he might enjoy a few quiet days, tucked away in his little courtyard to cultivate in peace — a hidden undercurrent had already been quietly gathering inside the Wenjian Sect.
It did not come from internal power struggles. It came from the "guests" who had arrived from afar.
The storm always begins with the first stirring of grass at the water's edge.
The Wenjian Sect. The Sword-Questioning Stage.
Though the agreed "friendly exchange between the two sects" was still more than half a month away, the Sword-Questioning Stage had not been quiet these past few days.
Ever since Elder Liu Changfeng of the Yunyue Sect had arrived at the Guest Peak with his brilliant disciple known as Li Mozi, the atmosphere at this arena — which ordinarily belonged to Wenjian Sect disciples — had become subtly charged.
Li Mozi was not one who could sit still.
Or rather, for someone walking the path of a Bitter Sword cultivator, idleness itself was a kind of torment.
After three days of sitting quietly on the Guest Peak, the Yunyue Sect's genius young woman could bear it no longer. She picked up her plain, unadorned longsword and walked down from the Guest Peak, step by step, until she stood at the center of the Sword-Questioning Stage.
She issued no formal challenge. She raised no great clamor.
She simply stood there, still and silent. Whenever a Wenjian Sect disciple happened past, or lingered to watch, she would raise her eyes toward them. Her gaze said only two words:
Draw your sword.
At first, no one paid her any attention. After all, they were all disciples of reputable orthodox sects — propriety mattered. What sense was there in brawling in the street?
But Li Mozi's gaze was deeply unsettling.
In the end, a few senior brothers could no longer resist and stepped onto the stage.
They lost. Every one of them. Soundly, cleanly — often a single flash of sword-light, and the outcome was already decided.
Today, this oppressive atmosphere had reached its peak.
The area around the Sword-Questioning Stage was packed with Wenjian Sect disciples — outer, inner, and even a handful of sect administrators mixed in among the crowd, their expressions grave.
On the stage, Li Mozi still wore her signature plain green robes, her frame so slender it seemed a gust of wind might topple her.
But at her feet lay three broken swords.
The three owners of those swords were all veteran disciples at the ninth layer of the first realm — people who were considered outstanding even in the outer sect.
"Too weak."
Li Mozi let out a quiet sigh.
She did not mean to humiliate anyone — her tone was more akin to disappointment than contempt.
"Is this the peak of the first realm at the Wenjian Sect?"
"Your sword intent is scattered, your foundations hollow. Are you cultivating the sword to build your body, or to show off in front of others?"
Those words cut to the bone.
The crowd below immediately began to stir — but then they looked at the senior brothers who had just been defeated on the stage, and that surge of fury was forcibly swallowed back down.
If your skill falls short, anything you say is just an excuse.
Li Mozi shook her head, as though she had at last exhausted her last shred of patience.
"Enough."
She held her longsword slanting toward the ground; the cold, keen blade caught the pale winter sun in its reflection.
"Coming at me one by one is too slow, and too dull."
"All of you — come at once."
BOOM —!
Those words were like a bucket of cold water dashed into a vat of boiling oil — the entire Sword-Questioning Stage instantly erupted.
One person challenging a whole group? And on the Wenjian Sect's home ground?
"This is an outrage!"
"Does she truly think no one in our Wenjian Sect can match her?!"
"Hold!"
Just then, a sharp cry rang out from within the crowd.
Everyone turned toward the voice. A young man in outer disciple's robes strode out from the crowd.
He was not particularly striking in appearance, and his cultivation was only at the seventh layer of the first realm — but his eyes were unusually bright, burning with a stubborn light.
It was Jiang Lu.
Jiang Lu parted the crowd and walked straight to the edge of the stage, looking up directly at Li Mozi.
"Fellow Daoist of the Yunyue Sect."
Jiang Lu cupped his fists in a salute, his voice steady:
"If we were to rush you all at once today, even if we won, word would spread that our Wenjian Sect bullied one with many. That is a reputation we cannot afford to bear — and one we do not wish to bear."
Li Mozi looked at him, a flicker of surprise passing through her eyes:
"So then? You want to fight in their place?"
"Not fight — seek guidance."
Jiang Lu drew a deep breath, tapped the tip of his foot to the ground, and leaped onto the stage.
"Outer disciple of the Wenjian Sect — Jiang Lu. I humbly request your instruction."
The crowd below erupted.
"Junior Brother Jiang! Don't be rash!"
"Even Senior Brother Zhao at the ninth layer was defeated — going up there is suicide!"
Voices of dissuasion and doubt rose from all directions.
But Jiang Lu heard none of it. He slowly drew the sword at his hip and settled into a perfectly precise opening stance of the Sea-Overturning form.
He knew he would in all likelihood lose.
But he could not let that crowd of senior brothers and sisters actually rush the stage. If they truly did swarm her — even if they won, the disgrace would be unbearable.
A sword cultivator may be defeated. But a sword cultivator cannot be without backbone.
Good.
Still the same lightning-fast strike — no flourish whatsoever, aimed straight at Jiang Lu's throat.
She had used this very strike countless times in the bouts before this, and every time it had effortlessly torn through her opponent's defenses.
But this time, things were slightly different.
Faced with that fierce, lethal thrust, Jiang Lu did not panic. His pupils contracted, but his mind became crystal clear.
Jiang Lu let out a low cry, and instead of retreating, his longsword drove forward to meet Li Mozi's blade head-on.
This strike had been born from his own self-invented sword technique, then further refined through Gu Chengming's guidance — it had been completely transformed.
The sword momentum surged like layered ocean waves, each crest rising higher than the last. Though his raw power could not match Li Mozi's, that relentless, clingy, wave-upon-wave tenacity stubbornly slowed her swift blade by half a beat.
Clang!
The two swords met. The flesh between Jiang Lu's thumb and forefinger split open, blood pouring freely, and the impact drove him three steps back.
"Oh?"
Li Mozi let out a soft sound of surprise.
She flicked her wrist, and her sword shifted. If that previous strike had been a gale, her blade now became a sudden downpour — dense sword-shadows cascading like quicksilver, permeating every gap, leaving no opening.
Jiang Lu bit down and held on grimly.
He pushed his defensive sword techniques to their absolute limit, taking on a mounting accumulation of small wounds across his body. Blood soaked through his robes — and still he did not fall.
He was waiting.
Waiting for an opening.
Senior Brother Gu had once said: even the swiftest sword grows spent in time; even the most perfect technique has a seam between moves.
At last, as he blocked Li Mozi's thirty-sixth strike, Jiang Lu seized that moment.
That instant when the old force was spent and the new had not yet risen.
"Now!"
A fierce light blazed in Jiang Lu's eyes. Ignoring the searing pain from the several wounds across his body, he forcibly drove every last drop of spiritual energy inside him into a single concentrated point at his sword tip.
This strike was no longer defense — it was an all-or-nothing counterattack.
Sword-light blazed like a comet, driving straight at Li Mozi's wrist.
Li Mozi clearly had not anticipated a counter. Her brow furrowed — and the cultivation she had been holding back no longer held anything in reserve.
Her ancient sword let out a sharp, piercing keen; along its blade, a faint cyan-blue halo began to shimmer and gather.
The embryonic form of sword intent!
"Watch out! Get back!"
A sharp-eyed disciple in the crowd cried out in alarm.
But it was already too late.
That strike was too fast, too heavy, too ruthless.
It shattered Jiang Lu's sword momentum entirely, sent his longsword flying from his grip, and then struck him full force in the chest.
Crack.
Dust billowed up.
Jiang Lu lay on the ground, his chest caved in, his face the color of gold paper — clearly suffering severe internal injuries.
"Junior Brother Jiang!"
Disciples from the surrounding crowd surged forward, scrambling to press medicinal pills into his mouth.
On the stage, Li Mozi slowly sheathed her sword.
"That had the bearing of a sword cultivator."
She said, her voice flat.
"Is there anyone else?"
That day, the outer sect of the Wenjian Sect fell into dead silence.
Gu Chengming's small courtyard.
At this moment, Gu Chengming was sitting cross-legged inside his room.
Just about an incense stick's time ago, the Myriad Wonders Assembly — which had been fairly lively — had suddenly gone eerily quiet. Then, one message after another began flooding in.
[Breaking news! Something happened at the Sword-Questioning Stage!]
[That Yunyue Sect disciple is trying to turn the entire outer sect upside down!]
[Senior Brother Zhao's been beaten! Senior Brother Li too! No one can stop her for even one strike!]
[She's challenging us all to come at her at once! This is insufferable!]
Gu Chengming's brow furrowed as he read through the real-time stream of messages.
He had anticipated some kind of conflict — he just hadn't expected it to come this fast, or burn this hot.
Right at that moment, a new message jumped out.
[Senior Brother Jiang Lu lost! He's critically injured and unconscious right now — broken ribs — but thankfully an administrator got to him in time…]
Junior Brother Jiang —?!
Gu Chengming scrolled down and, upon seeing that Jiang Lu's condition had since stabilized and there was no immediate danger, let out a breath.
"What a headache."
He murmured quietly to himself.
Reason told him this was not the time for impulse.
Right now he was only at the sixth layer of the first realm. According to his original plan, give him another half a month — let him break through to the seventh layer, even just early seventh layer — and paired with Primordial Imperial Merit and Flowing Light, Sword Shadows, he would have absolute certainty of defeating Li Mozi.
As a veteran Galgame player, what he was best at was mapping the optimal route, and avoiding every risk that could lead to a Bad End.
Acting on impulse now was irrational. It was a deviation from the intended route.
"But…"
Gu Chengming closed his eyes.
If he didn't act now — wasn't this already a Bad End?
Every ending should be faced without regrets.
Come to think of it, being a top Galgame player and being a sword cultivator might not be so different after all.
Sword cultivation was never truly about the sword.
It was about the breath of pride that refused to be swallowed. It was about the heart that could not be made to lie down and accept defeat.
He reached out a hand. The practice wooden sword sitting in the corner flew into his palm.
Not enough.
He turned it around, slid it back into the sword rack, and took out the iron sword he had picked up in the market on a whim — still unsharpened, rough-edged, smelling faintly of rust.
The blade was cold, coarse, carrying that metallic iron scent.
"Can't wait for the seventh layer anymore."
Gu Chengming pushed open the door and walked out, stride long and unhesitating.
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