It is often said that time holds no meaning for those who cultivate immortality.
Xu Ziqing remained in seclusion for ten years.
For five of those years he nourished the seeds he could use, spending the most time on Golden Blood Grass. At last its vitality was fully replenished, and he successfully incorporated it as a secondary Wood.
He also kept three Sword-Shaped Wood seeds close to his heart orifice. Their upright sword qi was ideal for balancing the Jia-Wood and Yi-Wood qi within him, so he dared not neglect them.
He tended other spiritual medicines as well, including Flesh Upon Bones. But that miraculous plant required a hundred times the vitality of ordinary herbs. Of all the ancient medicines in his possession, only it remained impossible to integrate.
The Sword-Shaped Wood seeds were not yet ready to sprout. Golden Blood Grass had produced a young seedling, but Rong Jin detected the shoot and swallowed it immediately. Xu Ziqing could only laugh helplessly and refrain from promoting more growth.
One seedling alone had strengthened Rong Jin considerably. Its vines divided until there were sixty-four fine tendrils, making it even hungrier for the herb. But the wood qi Xu Ziqing gathered in a day could produce only one seedling. He would have to advance further before he could grow a mature plant that might truly mature Rong Jin.
Even so, Rong Jin now communicated far more clearly. With a thought, Xu Ziqing could direct it almost as easily as moving his own limbs. Their coordination was several times better than before.
Xu Ziqing was quite satisfied.
For another two years he refined his Qingyun Needles.
This was his first embryonic divine ability, and it could not become complete before he formed his Golden Core. Still, he could make several needle formations to support his swordsmanship and confront enemies in an orderly fashion.
Handling hundreds of needles at once required his attention to be divided many ways. This tempered and strengthened his soul and prepared him to extract a thread of primordial spirit during Golden Core formation.
During the last three years he refined the Bitter Bamboo Flute his senior brother had given him, making it a magical treasure connected to his own blood and essence. The bamboo needed no other materials. Unfortunately, without core fire he could not refine it to its full potential.
Nevertheless, it could steady the mind, clear mental disturbance, and attack by sound. It was especially useful against opponents employing sound-based techniques. As a descendant of an ancient innate spiritual root, it could grow more powerful whenever its owner advanced in cultivation.
Xu Ziqing also practiced several spells, above all the Myriad Woods Spirit-Transformation Art.
Transforming plants into other living forms had innumerable applications.
The art could be used for scouting, pursuit, concealment, and battle.
He had learned to create hawks, insects, foxes, and snakes. Hawks and foxes came naturally because he knew Chonghua and Hu Xue’er so well, while insects and snakes were common enough among plants. More unfamiliar creatures were difficult to reproduce. The technique also demanded a great deal of true essence and control.
Between cultivating those arts, absorbing divine-wood seeds, and revisiting techniques he already knew, the decade passed without his noticing. Every day had been full.
Finally, he sensed that it was time to emerge.
He rose, broke the restriction over his doorway, and stepped out.
As expected, Yun Lie was meditating cross-legged outside.
Clad in white, he sat as steadily as a great stone.
His expression was unmoving, his eyes nearly shut, his aura utterly cold and solidified.
He might have been an ice sculpture that had endured for ten thousand years, its killing intent concentrated into a chill that never dissipated.
Xu Ziqing shivered involuntarily upon leaving his chamber.
His senior brother had grown even stronger!
Yun Lie opened his eyes.
Xu Ziqing smiled. “Senior Brother.”
Yun Lie looked at him. “Have you encountered a bottleneck?”
Xu Ziqing sighed. “I have.”
He was at the peak of late Essence Transformation. He understood how to draw forth a thread of primordial spirit and was otherwise ready for Golden Core formation.
But he still lacked a Dao seed.
A Dao seed embodied one’s personal Dao and would eventually nurture the embryonic Great Dao. Condensing it before Golden Core formation made advancement much easier; lacking it would hinder his later progress.
To condense a Dao seed one must genuinely understand the direction of one’s cultivation. A careless choice could bar the path to immortality or require reincarnation and beginning again.
This was a grave risk, not something to approach lightly.
Xu Ziqing had traveled widely, but had faced relatively few enemies himself.
Often he had been sheltered beneath Yun Lie’s protection. Consequently, his personal understanding remained indistinct.
Even after pondering the problem in seclusion for ten years, he had found no answer.
Still, there was no reason for despair. He had cultivated for little more than twenty years, and reaching this stage already represented extraordinary progress. Perhaps greater firsthand combat experience would bring the realization he needed.
Yun Lie understood this. After years by Xu Ziqing’s side, he knew his junior brother’s progress almost as well as his own.
How could he fail to see what Xu Ziqing himself had noticed?
After a brief thought, he said, “We’ll go down the mountain.”
Xu Ziqing nodded seriously. “I was thinking the same thing, Senior Brother.”
Yun Lie rose. “To the Merit Pavilion.”
The two left the mountain and flew toward the Ten Directions Pavilion.
The Merit Pavilion was where disciples accepted assignments and exchanged merit points. Xu Ziqing had not visited for years. The Merit Hall in its side wing remained busy with stewards recording transactions.
But he had not come to exchange merit points, so he did not seek them out.
He and Yun Lie entered the main hall and approached a tall black stone pillar.
It was one of the one hundred and eight Merit Pillars, arranged according to the Heavenly Spirits and Earthly Fiends. Their listings changed daily. Tasks often limited the number of participants, permitting fewer but not more, while assignments issued by outsiders had to be carried out precisely or the promised reward could be withheld.
They stood before the seventy-eighth pillar, which chiefly displayed missions appropriate for Essence Transformation and Golden Core cultivators.
Xu Ziqing extended his spiritual sense and read downward from the top.
Lines of golden text moved across the pillar. Most assignments required gathering rare materials, defeating vicious beasts, or escorting travelers, much like the tasks he had seen at the Rogue Cultivator Alliance. Such institutions differed little across the world.
Some assignments were more unusual. Those aimed at eliminating wicked demonic cultivators seemed to be the kind of test that a major immortal sect would set for its disciples.
Xu Ziqing felt his thoughts stir.
His nature was gentle, perhaps too gentle, and lacked a certain firmness. His determination to seek the Dao was strong, but this was a weakness.
He could not always wait until driven into a corner before being willing to fight lethally. But neither could he deliberately provoke others, seek glory through violence, or kill for treasure.
Such missions offered a different path.
If a major immortal sect recognized the elimination of a criminal as meritorious, the target must have committed grievous wrongs.
Removing such a danger protected others; refusing to act could allow further harm.
Xu Ziqing was compassionate, but compassion did not oblige him to ignore cruelty.
He considered accepting one of these assignments.
At that moment, Yun Lie said, “This task suits you.”
Xu Ziqing looked in the direction of his senior brother’s voice.
He saw Yun Lie pointing to a line of glowing golden characters. The characters described a mission.
It concerned a gang of marauders in the Taigu Desert, entrenched in the Taigu Barren Mountains, who preyed on passing travelers.
They were demonic cultivators of considerable strength. Even the weakest had reached Foundation Establishment, while their leader was at half-step Nascent Soul.
Had they merely robbed travelers, perhaps they would not have become so notorious.
But their crimes extended far beyond theft.
They did not stop at robbery. Every one of these bandits was driven by lust. Man or woman, cultivator or mortal, anyone they encountered was subjected to forced sexual cultivation so the bandits could drain their essence.
When a mortal’s vital essence was drained, their life force was taken with it, killing them at once. Cultivators did not die quite so quickly, so dozens, sometimes even hundreds, of bandits took turns draining them until their vital energy and essence blood were exhausted and they were reduced to desiccated skeletons.
Originally the mountain had been called Taijia Barren Mountain. As evidence of the gang’s victims accumulated, frightened people began calling it Taigu, the Barren Mountain of Bones. The surrounding Taijia Desert acquired the same grim new name.
For years, few cultivators had dared enter. Those who attempted to eliminate the gang had vanished, and eventually no one was willing to try. Nascent Soul ancestors were generally focused on their own pursuit of the Dao and seldom concerned themselves with such foes unless their loved ones were endangered.
Thus the marauders had remained free to continue for years.
Xu Ziqing was furious. These were truly wicked cultivators.
Even destroying the entire gang might not fully quiet his anger!