By the time he returned to the dilapidated house, it was completely dark. Lin Feng bolted the door and first checked the earthenware pots in the corner and the grass in the window cracks. No one had come in. He sat down against the earthen wall and took out an old cloth bundle from his pocket.
Half a piece of rotten bone vine core, a piece of bone-corroding grass. He pushed it aside, his fingers touching the cold, thin piece.
It was about the size of a fingernail, grayish-white, with irregular edges. He held it up to the light filtering through the crack in the door to examine it closely. The engravings were as shallow as hair, incomplete. The lines… He took out a fragment of the *Qi-Inducing Technique* to compare. It didn't look like it. This one was more complex; several turns seemed vaguely familiar, but there were many more forks.
Lin Feng rubbed the old scar on his tiger's mouth. He closed his eyes and tried to see inside. It was very difficult; a cool sensation came from the ancient jade on his chest, drawing thin spiritual energy along the earthen-yellow veins. He separated a wisp of spiritual power and slowly reached it towards the thin piece in his palm.
No reaction.
He maintained his output, sweat beading on his forehead. Just as his mind was about to collapse, a faint tremor suddenly came from his palm—not a vibration, but a resonance.
Two or three intricate markings on the thin slice briefly "brightened." Fragmented information crashed into his senses: several incomplete spiritual energy points, a fragment of the intention to "gather power at the pivot."
The feedback flashed by. Lin Feng groaned and released his grip; the slice fell. Dizziness washed over him, his energy slightly depleted. He looked at the slice, panting; it had returned to stillness.
Was that real?
He wrapped the slice in a rag and tucked it behind a brick wall, separating it from the ancient jade. Then he ate half a hard biscuit and began practicing the *Qi-Guiding Technique* cross-legged. The spiritual energy flow remained slow, the ancient jade felt slightly cool, and his spirit was exhausted. After practicing for an hour, a wave of weakness washed over him, and he stopped.
He was still far from finished.
****** Early the next morning, Lin Feng went to the west side of the market. He squatted down in front of the pockmarked old man's stall, first exchanging the hemostatic herb for iron nails and salt, then casually pulled out the half-section of the rotten bone vine core.
"One and a half yuan." The old man didn't even lift his eyelids.
"Two yuan."
"One yuan and sixty cents."
"Fine." The old man counted out spirit stones; his fingers were short and thick, his fingernails black. Lin Feng took them, and as he turned, he caught a glimpse of a figure flashing behind the pancake stall at the alley entrance.
Someone was following him.
Lin Feng's steps didn't change, but all his senses were tense. His gaze was fixed on the person behind him, cold and sinister as a spider's web. He turned towards the densely populated area in the middle of the market, weaving between the animal skin stalls. That gaze was intermittent, impossible to shake off.
He squatted down in front of an old woman selling coarse rice and grabbed a handful.
"Young man, buying rice?" The old woman's voice was hoarse, her movements slow as she scooped the rice.
"Hmm." The old woman's lips moved almost imperceptibly, her words as rapid as the wind: "Avoid going down the west alley lately."
Lin Feng's fingers stiffened. Looking up, a faint glimmer of pity flashed in the old woman's cloudy eyes, then vanished.
"How much is this rice?"
"Three jin, one spirit stone." The price was slightly high.
Lin Feng didn't haggle, handing over the spirit stone. The old woman wrapped the rice and handed it to him, her withered fingers pressing lightly on the back of his hand, cold and rough.
"Go on, don't block business." Lin Feng carried the rice and merged into the crowd. The clear gaze was gone, but a more subtle sense of being watched, like a net, quietly closed in. He didn't go straight home, but went around to the east end of the market, slipped into a narrow alley piled with broken wooden boxes, and squatted in the shadows, waiting for about half an incense stick's time. Two groups of footsteps passed by outside, without stopping. He then emerged from the other end of the alley, weaving and twisting, finally slipping back into the secluded area where the dilapidated house was located through a gap in a half-collapsed wall.
Leaning against the door, he slowly exhaled. Shen Lian remained unconscious. Lin Feng started a fire to cook porridge, and by the firelight, he recalled the fleeting lines on the thin fragment. "Gathering power at the pivot"... Pivot? The key?
He tried to guide the weak spiritual energy, slightly concentrating it as it passed through his chest. The flow almost stopped, and his chest swelled. In that instant of throbbing pain, the ancient jade against his chest gave a very slight "warmth."
Lin Feng's heart pounded.
The pivot refers to the ancient jade? The method on the fragment, is it related to the ancient jade?
He was both excited and terrified, daring not to try again, only memorizing the direction of the lines. The porridge was cooked, and he helped Shen Lian sit up, feeding him little by little. The old man still had difficulty swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing laboriously, but it was slightly better than yesterday.
****** For the next two days, Lin Feng didn't go out. The food stored in his shack would last a few more days; he needed to figure out how to decipher the remaining fragments.
During the day, he practiced the *Qi-Inducing Technique* as usual, his progress agonizingly slow. At night, only after the market had completely quieted down did he take out the thin fragments and, by the dim moonlight filtering through the cracks in the door and obscuring the marks, examine them repeatedly.
He dipped his fingertips in water and traced the lines on his knee. The lines were broken and discontinuous, unable to form a complete pattern. He tried touching them with different types of spiritual energy—earth was the most stable, followed by metal, while wood and water barely reacted. Each attempt was exhausting, and the feedback was so faint it felt like an illusion.
On the afternoon of the third day, he couldn't sit still any longer. He took his last few copper coins and went to find Chen San at the east end of the market. Chen San's stall was empty, and an old man selling rotten vegetables glanced at him sideways.
"Looking for Chen San?"
"Yes."
"Haven't been here for two days." The old man spat. "I heard he was ambushed in the west alley the night before last, his spirit stones were stolen, and his leg was broken. He's probably lying in some straw pit waiting to die right now."
Lin Feng froze.
West alley. He remembered the old woman selling rice's warning. Chen San… was he being targeted because he'd traded with him too much?
He gripped the copper coin tightly and turned to leave. The old man behind him was still muttering, "...How dare he trespass on Scarface Liu's territory…"
Back in the dilapidated house, Lin Feng sat for a long time. Chen San's numb face lingered in his mind. His dream of ten spirit stones shattered.
After dark, he blew out the stove fire, leaving only the tiny oil lamp. The room darkened, and Shen Lian's breathing was exceptionally clear in the silence. Lin Feng sat on the straw mat, holding the ancient jade. The familiar roughness and coldness reached his fingertips.
In the silence, Shen Lian's breathing suddenly became erratic.
Lin Feng looked up. On the straw mat, Shen Lian's eyelids trembled slightly, his withered fingers gently hooking. A muffled "hoarse" sound escaped his throat.
Lin Feng moved to the bedside and leaned over.
"...Jade..." Shen Lian's voice was hoarse and broken, "Hide...hide it well..." Lin Feng's heart trembled violently.
"Don't...don't let anyone...see it..." Shen Lian's eyes were unfocused, his pupils reflecting the oil lamplight, yet seeming to gaze at a distant, terrifying place. He squeezed out two blurry words with all his might:
"...'Appraisal'..." Before he could finish speaking, his head lolled to the side, and he fainted.
Appraisal?
Lin Feng froze, his mind buzzing. Before he could understand—
"Tap." A very soft yet clear sound came from the roof. Like a tile being carefully stepped on and then quickly moved away.
Lin Feng's hair stood on end, and he abruptly looked up at the dark roof. Beyond the glow of the oil lamplight, everything was pitch black.
****** In the days that followed, Lin Feng lived with extreme caution. He switched to a more secluded vendor selling dregs of medicine, and his departure times and routes became unpredictable. When cultivating in his shack, he used an old quilt to patch the cracks, and his study of the fragments was limited to late at night, only scratching the surface.
The gains were minimal. The fragments still provided fragmented feedback, confirming only that the circuitry was more refined than the *Qi-Inducing Technique* and had a slight guiding effect on metal and earth spiritual energy; nothing more. The words "appraisal" occasionally flashed through his mind, their meaning unclear.
His cultivation progressed at a snail's pace. With his four pseudo-spiritual roots and the meager spiritual energy of the Deep Valley, even the ancient jade's assistance was insufficient. Only a single strand of his earth-yellow veins had solidified, far from the second level of Qi Refining.
Shen Lian's injuries stabilized slightly; the fever subsided, but he was mostly unconscious. The inferior healing ointment was barely keeping him alive.
His spirit stones were almost depleted again. Lin Feng took on two short-term jobs transporting animal hides to earn copper coins to buy coarse rice porridge.
The pressure was like a fog, seeping into every crevice.
****** That midday, Lin Feng emerged from the backyard of the fur shop, thirty copper coins he had just earned tucked into his pocket. He turned into a narrow alley, intending to take a shortcut back.
The alley was secluded, with sewage flowing freely. Halfway there, a figure appeared around the corner ahead, blocking his path. Lin Feng paused, not turning around, and heard a soft thud behind him.
Two men. The one in front was a lean man with triangular eyes and a shallow scar on his lip. The one behind was thicker, arms crossed.
"Kid, walking pretty fast," the man with triangular eyes said, his voice high-pitched.
Lin Feng unconsciously rubbed his right thumb against the base of his thumb. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing much." The man with triangular eyes grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "I heard you went to the scree slope the other day and got some stuff?"
"Just trying to make a living," Lin Feng said.
"Even those trying to make a living need to know the rules," the burly man behind him muttered. "The alley to the west hasn't been safe lately. Unfamiliar faces wandering around can easily get into trouble." Lin Feng remained silent for a moment. "I don't go to the west side often."
"That's good." The triangular-eyed man stared at him. "But, we're a bit short on cash lately. You seem pretty clever, how about lending me some spirit stones?"
Lin Feng's hands were in his pockets, his fingertips touching the thirty copper coins and the last broken spirit stone. "That's all. Just bought some rice."
"Search me?" The triangular-eyed man took a step forward.
Lin Feng stepped back, his back against the slippery earthen wall. He quickly assessed the situation: both men appeared to be at the first or second level of Qi Refining, blocking both ends of the alley. A direct confrontation was out of the question.
"Really, that's all." He lowered his voice, adding a perfectly timed pleading tone. "Next time… next time I have work, I'll bring you two spirit stones." The triangular-eyed man squinted at him, then suddenly smiled. "Fine, see if you know what's good for you. Remember, Scarface Liu doesn't like people who don't know their place. Stay away from the west end of the market. Understand?"
"Understood."
"Get lost." Lin Feng squeezed past the man with the triangular eyes and quickly walked out of the alley. Only after merging into the main street's flow of people did the gaze on his back disappear.
His palms were sweaty.
A warning. A blatant warning. Scarface Liu's men weren't just watching him; they'd drawn a line—the west was their territory, don't touch it.
Why? Because of the mission at the Broken Stone Slope? Or because of the faint spiritual energy he might have leaked during his recent cultivation?
Lin Feng gripped the copper coin in his pocket. He had to hurry. Understand the fragment, improve his cultivation, and leave this hellhole.
****** Night. Lin Feng once again sat cross-legged in the darkness. He didn't immediately begin cultivating, but instead took out the ancient jade and the fragment, placing them side by side on the ground. The moonlight, filtered gray by the mist, barely outlined their shapes.
He looked at them. The ancient jade left by his mother, the jade pendant beside the corpses in the mine, the fragment beneath the gravel slope… are they connected? All are sensitive to the metal and earth elements.
Shen Lian had said his mother wasn't a local of Chen Valley.
Lin Feng's fingers traced the rough edge of the ancient jade. Beneath its cool surface, a faint pulse resonated with his heartbeat. He picked up the fragment, stroking the shallow marks.
What if… the ancient jade's power wasn't just attracting spiritual energy?
He had previously used spiritual energy to "nourish" the fragment, imitating the ancient jade. What if, conversely, he used the ancient jade itself to "contact" the fragment?
The thought made his heart pound. Danger. The ancient jade was his greatest secret and reliance. What if something went wrong…?
He looked at Shen Lian, who was sleeping unconscious in the corner. The old man was emaciated.
There was no time to wait.
Lin Feng took a deep breath, picked up the ancient jade, and pressed it against his chest. A cool sensation spread, and sparse spiritual energy gathered. He didn't guide his spiritual energy into his body, but instead focused his mind on the ancient jade, imagining its clear, melodious rhythm rippling like water onto the fragment in his hand.
Initially, nothing changed.
Just when he thought he had failed again, the ancient jade on his chest trembled slightly. A subtle resonance emanated from within. Immediately afterward, a suction force came from his skin—drawing a tiny wisp of his vital energy from his body.
Lin Feng's face paled.
This time, his vital energy merged with the rhythm of the ancient jade. That rhythm suddenly became clearer and more solid, like an invisible ripple spreading through the air, touching the fragment.
The fragment trembled violently!
It wasn't the previous weak resonance; it was a violent, almost struggling vibration. All the engravings on its grayish-white surface simultaneously lit up with a dim light, and countless fragmented pieces of information rushed back along the ripples, crashing into Lin Feng's mind.
A sharp pain exploded. Ten times stronger than before. His vision went black, his ears rang, as if countless screams were exploding inside his skull. Chaotic images flashed wildly: fractured mountains and rivers, collapsed palaces, burning runes, and a pair of cold, piercing giant eyes…
"Ugh!" Lin Feng growled, his fingers spasming, the ancient jade and the fragment slipping from his grasp and falling to the ground simultaneously. He curled up on the ground, covered in cold sweat, his temples throbbing wildly, a metallic taste rising in his mouth.
It took a long time for the excruciating pain to subside. He collapsed onto the straw mat, panting, his vision still blurry.
The fragment lay quietly on the ground, its light extinguished, returning to stillness. The ancient jade was also as cold as ever.
But what he had just witnessed wasn't a hallucination. The torrent of information was too vast and too fragmented; he could barely grasp any concrete content. He only managed to glean a few slightly clearer fragments: a more complete diagram of spiritual energy circulation, containing twelve turning points; a fragmented annotation about "appraisal"—"Observe its nature, discern its substance, guide its spirit"; and finally, that terrifying image: the giant eye.
What was that? Lin Feng struggled to sit up, wiping the sweat from his brow. He picked up the fragment and noticed that the engravings on its surface seemed… a little shallower? As if the burst of energy had drained some residual energy.
His heart pounded. This fragment might be some kind of heirloom or recording medium, requiring a specific method—like ancient jade—to activate its true content. That burst might have drained its last bit of energy.
He tried hard to recall the twelve-turn circuit. Much more complex than the *Qi-Guiding Technique*, it seemed to guide metal and earth spiritual energy more efficiently, forming some kind of "pivot" in his chest. If combined with ancient jade…
Lin Feng looked at the ancient jade in his hand. It was still broken and cold.
"Observe its nature, discern its substance, guide its spirit." Appraisal… this was the ability? Ancient jade could discern the essence of objects and guide their spiritual energy?
He recalled the process of the ancient jade absorbing the spiritual energy of spirit stones and feeding back a gentle, warm current. Was that considered "guiding its spirit"?
Too many questions. But at least, he had obtained something tangible—the circuit diagram. He endured the lingering headache and weakness, sat cross-legged, and tried to guide the faint spiritual energy within his body along the twelve turns he remembered.
It was difficult. The route was complex, and the spiritual energy was weak, dissipating several times at the turns. He patiently adjusted his breathing and focus, like threading a needle through the eye of a needle with an extremely fine thread. Sweat trickled down his temples and dripped onto his knees.
An hour later, he barely completed half of the simplified circuit. When that faint, almost imperceptible wisp of spiritual energy finally flowed through his chest along the remembered path, the ancient jade against his chest once again emitted that familiar warmth.
This time, however, the flowing spiritual energy seemed to have solidified into an extremely tiny wisp. Almost negligible, but Lin Feng could feel it.
It worked.
He opened his eyes, a faint light shining in the darkness. Although slow, dangerous, and costly, there was finally a visible path. This path seemed to bypass some of the constraints of his pseudo-spiritual root.
Just then, extremely light footsteps sounded outside the door. More than one person.
Lin Feng instantly held his breath, his hand reaching for the chipped wood-cutter's knife beside his pillow. He didn't move, but listened quietly.
The footsteps paused for a moment outside the door, as if they were whispering a few words. Their voices were so low that the content was indistinct. Then, the footsteps gradually faded away.
Were they not coming for him? Or… just passing by to investigate?