Two days had passed since the cataclysmic Pill Lightning explosion, and during that time, Xiao Yan had remained seated upon that stone platform, his eyes tightly shut in deep meditation. From his body radiated waves of吸引力, continuously drawing in the surrounding dense spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth, pulling all into himself.
Since the end of the Pill Lightning, Xiao Yan remained locked in this absorption state. With each cycle, his power ebbed and flowed like ocean tides—an immense surge of Dou Qi spewing from his body’s surface only to retreat shortly afterward in continuous rhythm. Those who saw such a display—masters like Su Qian—noted instantly that Xiao Yan stood amid a critical breakthrough moment. Thus, patrols were assigned, closing all steps leading to the platform while the zone beneath it was fully isolated. Were he interfered with at this moment, the cost would be devastating. Such moments to transcend simply could not be forced into appearing at will.
During these days, the juniors of the Inner Academy became accustomed to gazing upward toward the robed silhouette atop the stone plinth. Now and then they would glance toward him from afar, expressions carrying awe and respect at the slight build concealing boundless potential within one so young—incredible power at such an age dwarfing even many elders of their very clans. Everyone knew Xiao Yan continued standing at the threshold of a critical cultivation stage; no one could fathom the unfathomable heights toward which his strength might grow. Thoughts swirled through many minds until reverence deepened like layers on their gazes. Indeed, his achievements merited that honor.
Despite the countless curious watching eyes below, Xiao Yan remained seemingly unaware, his form fixed in meditative stillness like an ageless monk carved in jade—an immovable presence amidst all the world’s noise. Yet among those with perceptive awareness, Xiao Yan subtly exuded a pressure, steadily increasing each instant, as though the force from within built toward some imminent eruption.
Above, the sky stretched pure and unblemished.
Suspended amid boundlessness hovered the ethereal figure known as the Little Healer Immortal, wearing lightly hued garments tied loosely by silken robes while locks white as freshly fallen snow loosely drifted upon gentle breezes from behind slender shoulders. With hair fastened only by a single violet sash flaring lightly in the wind, she appeared an untouchable wisp in dreams, causing many young male academy denizens to halt involuntarily in footsteps and gaze starry-eyed toward this beauty.
Few among the Inner Academy knew much about this pale young woman cloaked softly in mystery. They only witnessed that this coldly-beautiful female stood constantly at Xiao Yan’s side, yet her power transcended even the Elder Grandmaster Su—a female斗宗 rivaling legends, a fact that rendered many proud so called “elite talents” of inner circles insignificant in the face of one seemingly bred more from celestial forces. Yet this truth had paradoxically made The Little Healer into something else altogether: the ultimate muse—the ideal mate sought endlessly by countless male students trapped amidst dreams impossible.
Possessing both peerless martial prowess combined with quiet gracefulness and a viselike beauty captivating hearts in mere glance—she embodied the ideal paramour figure, embodying many masculine daydreams—but those desires were known to remain only that: desires best confined to hearts alone. Most accepted the harsh knowledge that subduing one of this goddesses’ rank—unless they possessed Xiao Yan like levels of innate ability entwined with unmatched charisma—was as probable as chasing mirage-born stars. That he, Xiao Yan, had even stood amidst impossible tides and captured admiration and affection at all from her made those dreams pale all the more.
The Little Healer herself remained entirely clueless as to what reputation she’d gathered in recent times and, frankly, cared little even if made to know. These harsh years had hardened her demeanor, and contact—even the tiniest conversation—was reserved for the truly intimate. Presently though her delicate gaze locked onto Xiao Yan’s seated form, unmoving and unbroken as she did, each day and at this particular moment of the day, without fail for a full five days already. And this quiet devotion kindled new stirrings deep within longing hearts below—many young males pining in frustration, hearts afire, but minds painfully aware of the impossible chasm between Xiao Yan and themselves. A fight to rescue a trapped beauty, they imagined, would only need that gaze she’d cast, and she would banished any challenger with no more emotion then one might swat flies away.
Breezes brushed her silhouette draped beneath the sky, outlining soft and alluring contours under shifting light. Her fingers idly brushed away stray silver strands drifting before ivory brow as her vision settled toward Xiao Yan still entirely motionless.
“Still not yet done… Is this ascension taking longer than usual?” she asked softly with slight furrow etched on brows. Nearly four days had elapsed since the cultivation commenced; Xiao Yan had remained locked within, without the hint even of movement. Had she not still perceived gradual surges of power rising from deep from within his frame? A misstep somewhere might not only stall progress; a wrong imbalance within the process held real dangers.
Another delicate, barely-there sigh fluttered upon the air before Xiao Yan’s steadfast companion prepared to turn back.
But at the very brink of the final shift of steps, tremor coursed upward. A pulse.
That subtle upheaval—barely anything even noticeable beyond trained sensitivities—was instantly noted by Xiaoyan’s guardian deity.
Spinning sharply in mid-air, wide-eyed expectation bloomed. Below, atop the platform, raw power exploded. Tendrils of pure primordial Essence spiraled, merging into a swirling vortex forming above Xiao Yan’s cranium, pouring down like cascading torrent directly into crown of his still-seated body.
Lasting barely more than the blink of an eye—the surge lasted all of fifteen seconds—before fading away once the reservoir ran its course through into him.
Then—stillness.
For an eternity of a heartbeat.
Four endless days of silence—then came that moment where the young adept stirred!
The moment Xiao Yan abruptly lifted his eyes wide open, a wave—raw force, like a thunderclap—brought the heavens trembling in response, erupting through the atmosphere in an overwhelming tidal surge born entirely from his presence.
Brief though this burst had truly remained—merely the flash of a breathless instant—it rippled outward, sending shockwaves far and wide. Across the Inner Academy’s many nooks, startled eyes now followed the direction of focus and gasped in concert at realization that it had ended. His eyes opened.
Their admiration and curiosity found their answer as the prodigy at last awoke. Yet Xiao Yan wasted nary a word toward murmurs stirring around the courtyard beyond. Rolling his neck, flexing digits and feeling the familiar and now-enhanced torrents swirling in his frame—strength greater by several magnitudes—the young adept allowed a satisfied curl to tug at his smirk, rising to greet those long-earned victories. Seven-Star Battle Emperor… The seventh stage reached—six stars in the books. Two yet to come until Dou Wang culmination.
“One breath away,” he mused half aloud, stretching from stillness into standing posture. “One breath more still, then, I chase the Battle Sect!”
He rose steadily, gaze fixed now toward the distant northern edge—the direction she had vanished so many years ago—Xun’er, vanishing without trace. Memories of that sky flickered, a flash of golden robes against a setting sun.
But then came the image—that haughty man, arriving atop his four-winged unicorn mount, towering down upon a helpless Xiao Yan, speaking in mockery.
“My name is Linquan. Second-commanding Officer of the Heiyan Battalion,” that man mocked him. He spoke from high atop that peak, surrounded in authority, his voice cold and his tone filled contempt—a shadow that once dwarfed all of Xiao Yan’s being so easily Xiao Yan shrank like nothing but a dustspeck beneath foot.
“Linquan…”
Clenching fist until bones groaned from pressure of will, glacial frost flared in eyes of Xiao Yan at last remembering the arrogant figure.
Before… before that power, those days had seemed impossibly towering—those years Xiao Yan was a mere crawling beetle. But now—now Xiao Yan rose on his own terms and by fire-hardened fate forged in crucible.
“Now, though you stood tall in sky… now you come near again… even gods fall beneath my blade.”
Time had sculpted Xiao Yan anew—no more stepping stone beneath greater names—no pawn to be toyed and manipulated.
No longer were his talents invisible. No longer need the flame die at another’s whim.
Now—now… now the fire burned unquenchably bright.
Now, power swirled beneath his will.
“Xun’er—wait for my arrival,” whispered Xiao Yan, eyes fixed into infinite distances while standing there over the Inner Sanctuary grounds from above. His heart swelled, a proud surge building until the very atmosphere vibrated at his presence.
And amidst mounting emotions and silent contemplation, a soft yet elegant aura shimmered, forming midair just outside and approaching.
“Did everything go well?” came a gentle, dulcet voice as the Little Healer finally spoke after long silent waiting beside him in the background, arriving in ethereal poise.
That voice—a calm counterbalance to wild ambitions and roaring flames of destiny—it broke the reverie even as his gaze softened appreciatively upon laying eyes on her pure visage framed under moonlike beauty.
“Thank you, Healer Immortal,” Xiao Yan said after a pause filled with mutual understanding and respect.
A frown flickered—subtle and fleeting across that perfect expression—a whisperless protest toward such words so formal… so distant.
“Heart speaks where mouth fails, but maybe even now and forever… maybe we’re still allowed to remain this near.” That realization calmed Xiao Yan’s concerns before he gently adjusted stance. “I’ve been rude—please don’t be displeased. It is I who have been unbecoming.”
Then he added gently: “In truth though—soon I leave. I have to move forward.”
The words sent soft shockwaves spiraling into place as Little Healer stammered slightly.
“Already? When then…?” came her breath in surprise.
But Xiao Yan’s only answer lay a final lingering look toward the northern sky. Some yearning had kindled from deep somewhere, restless and bright, a call from lands far off. Awaiting—his destiny burned hotter than any Dou Flame kindled through mortal alchemy.
“In three days,” he murmured finally with calm assurance before meeting that gaze he always recognized with affection and sincerity behind them.
“Shall I accompany you?” Xiao Mei asked.
Xiao Yan’s smiled knowingly—the journey ahead… it awaited.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage