The main road returned to solemn quiet. Xu Fengnian, holding the spear In an instant, entered the nearest carriage, leaving Yu Youwei and Jiang Ni inside puzzled. Given the Prince’s deep affection for Qingniao, his personal maid, why would he come here instead? Before the two women could ponder further, the truth revealed itself. As soon as the Prince lowered the curtain after the Reed Marsh battle, he spat out a mouthful of blood, accidentally splattering it onto Yu Youwei’s chest where she cradled her white cat. Her white dress and the cat were stained crimson, a shocking sight.
Not only that, as Xu Fengnian leaned against the carriage wall, cross-legged, blood began to seep from his seven orifices. Yu Youwei then noticed his chest torn open, even revealing a strange greenish soft silk armor beneath, cracked along one seam. Pale as a ghost, Xu Fengnian covered his wound, gasping, “Get out, both of you. Go fetch Old Sword Saint Li first, then tell Ning Emei everything is under his command. I won’t be seen for now.”
Yu Youwei, ignoring the cat Wu Meiniang, hurriedly exited. As Jiang Ni lifted the curtain, she glanced back. The Prince seemed to force a smile, but blood poured from his nose and mouth, turning his expression grotesque. Xu Fengnian bore his pain silently, closing his eyes and using the Dahuang Ting mantra combined with the Shen Tong Ji to breathe with difficulty. His breaths were shallow, his exhalations long, each breath bringing unbearable pain. This torment was far beyond mere physical suffering.
In Daoist alchemical teachings, the body’s thirty-six major acupoints and seventy-two minor ones are likened to sacred grottoes and blessed lands. These points are not named lightly; each bears deep meaning. Xu Fengnian, forcibly infused with the Dahuang Ting cultivation by the old Wudang sect leader Wang Chonglou, had only excavated six meridians and opened fourteen orifices. The rest of his immense energy remained dormant like a hidden dragon, preventing damage to his meridians. With Daoist techniques, he absorbed energy gradually, safely and beneficially. Later, in Xiangfan City, the statue of Avalokitesvara leading ten thousand ghosts at night granted him further insight, advancing him to the second level. At that time, Li Chun’gang, the sword guardian, blocked the gaze between the two, later scolding Xu Fengnian for risking his life. The reason lay precisely here.
Yet today, the battle was like spring thunder awakening all things, causing most of his acupoints to burst open simultaneously. The Dahuang Ting energy surged upward, climbing from the sixth to the fourth Celestial Mansion, a vast amount of true energy he should not have been able to bear until after achieving the Realm of the Diamond Body physique.
Soon after, Li Chun’gang entered the carriage with a grave expression. Seeing Xu Fengnian in such a half-dead state, he frowned deeply and asked sternly, “Exhaling one, inhaling nine—have you truly decided to pursue Dahuang Ting at the cost of your life? Without life, what use are ten portions of Dahuang Ting? What would ten even mean?”
Xu Fengnian managed a faint smile, lifting a finger slightly.
The meaning was clear—where in the world would ten portions of Dahuang Ting come from? For a hundred years, the Wudang Sect alone possessed this rare treasure. Without striving, how could one escape heavenly retribution?
The phrase “Not returning until the Loulan fortress is broken” originally comes from a famous frontier poem, later widely used in Daoist tradition to illustrate the determination required to cultivate the Dahuang Ting. Countless Daoist adepts have failed to break through this barrier. On Dragon-Tiger Mountain, there have been no fewer than twenty adepts who perished in this attempt. Opening the acupoints and cultivating the sea of qi, forming one’s own universe, is the Daoist ideal of a true immortal who can command heaven and earth and grasp yin and yang. Only when one can freely open and close these points at will can one become a truly free and transcendent being. Until then, even a Dragon-Tiger Mountain Celestial Master remains half mortal.
At this moment, Xu Fengnian was desperately sealing the sea of qi to prevent its leakage. Hence, the old sword saint saw through his intention to endure hardship by exhaling less and inhaling more. As the heir apparent to the Beiliang throne, why would he endure such suffering in martial cultivation?
Even Li Chun’gang could not understand. Yet understanding or not, he could not simply watch the boy die from ruptured meridians. He extended a finger, tapping Xu Fengnian’s forehead. Using sword as Dao, this technique was called “Striking the Heavenly Bell.” All paths lead to the same truth. Li Chun’gang guided Xu Fengnian’s energy flow. Though it consumed immense effort, he was not helpless. On the Wujia Sword Tomb’s advanced techniques, the principle was to ascend Kunlun through stillness. Li Chun’gang naturally possessed unfathomable abilities. For half a day, he sat opposite Xu Fengnian, tapping his finger no fewer than three thousand times. Even someone as formidable as Li Chun’gang was drenched in sweat. When he saw the mark on Xu Fengnian’s forehead stabilizing, shifting from black to red, then to purple, the old sword saint exhaled deeply and quietly left the carriage, taking the reins himself, letting the carriage move slowly.
An hour later, Li Chun’gang turned back and lifted the curtain. The boy’s clothes were soaked in blood, his body trembling violently, emitting sounds like popping soybeans. At noon, the old man checked again—Xu Fengnian finally showed signs of survival. At dusk, Li Chun’gang stopped the carriage at a scenic mountain stream, deciding to camp in the wilderness for the night. The caravan, besides the three attendants Wei Shuyang, Shu Xiu, and Yang Qingfeng, was accompanied by over sixty White Horse Righteous Cavalry under Yuan Meng. The rest of the cavalry, led by Ning Emei, handled the aftermath and guarded against possible pursuit by Qingzhou heavy cavalry. However, Zhu Lushan would soon arrive with reinforcements. Even six hundred heavy cavalry would pose no threat once he arrived. Known for his cruelty, Zhu Lushan was naturally ruthless, but also cautious. Otherwise, with his reputation, he would have died a thousand deaths already. This fat, hated ball of flesh must possess formidable survival skills and Intimidation tactics to dare leave Beiliang.
The Jin’an Princess, whose fate remained uncertain, had been sitting inside the carriage with Jiang Ni and Yu Youwei. The maid, dressed in green and covered in bruises, occupied most of the space. The fastidious Princess endured great discomfort. As soon as the carriage stopped, she hurriedly stepped out. Nearby, a dozen cavalry patrolled cautiously. She dared not wander far, fearing she might be beheaded by these fearless Beiliang warriors. Dying at their hands would be worse than falling to the Beiliang Prince’s blade. At least his twin blades were elegant, weren’t they? The Princess glanced at the Enchanting woman called Shu Xiu by the Prince. Coincidentally, Shu Xiu was watching her too, her smile sly, regarding the Princess like a lamb awaiting slaughter. Remembering the secret she had overheard in the Reed Marsh, the Princess shuddered in fear and turned away, gazing at the old immortal in the sheepskin coat. What was he doing now?
No one could have guessed that Xu Fengnian was wandering the gates of hell. If the underworld truly had ox-headed and horse-faced soul catchers, they would surely resent this annoying Prince who neither died nor lived.
The only one who knew the truth, Li Chun’gang, closed his eyes to recover. Just as Lü Qiantang, who had trained in swordsmanship by watching tides, had always disliked and misunderstood Xu Fengnian, Li Chun’gang, who had roamed the world with his sword for forty years, also failed to understand the minds of noble heirs. He held great disdain for these aristocrats, born under ancestral protection, deeming them unworthy of true cultivation. They lacked endurance, feared death, and valued their lives too much, thus often falling short in martial cultivation compared to common-born warriors. Even less likely to rival geniuses like Wu Liuding, they were nothing special. When he first heard the boy had taken up the saber in Beiliang, he nearly laughed himself silly.
The elixir is born in the void, refined nine times in the furnace.
No one could see the deep purple mark glowing on Xu Fengnian’s forehead, a sign of sudden enlightenment to the eternal Dao, blooming lotus after lotus.
Purple qi floated from Xu Fengnian’s acupoints, filling the carriage. As the sun set, he finally opened his eyes, having grasped the essence of the Dahuang Ting— Purple clouds from the east herald prosperity., never to depart again. Smiling, he whispered, “Once the immortal’s elixir, now tasted by me.”
As the Prince bent to exit the carriage, the Jin’an Princess instinctively stepped back. He looked like a blood-soaked demon, terrifying to behold. Not only her, but Jiang Ni, who feared ghosts and spirits most, immediately crawled back into the carriage. Li Chun’gang snorted coldly, “Stepped in dog shit again!”
Xu Fengnian sniffed his own stench—it was unbearable. Though his body was filthy, the impurities within had been cleansed. Looking around, he asked casually, “Is there a stream or spring nearby?”
Yuan Meng, still armored and armed, galloped over. Seeing the eerie scene, he suppressed his shock and dismounted respectfully, “Your Highness, there is a deep pond half a mile away.”
Xu Fengnian nodded, “Lead the way.”
At the emerald pond, dozens of White Horse Righteous Cavalry had already formed a perimeter far away. Facing even the eleventh strongest man in the world, Wang Mingyin, they had dared to fight to the death. Facing the Jin’an King Zhao Heng himself, they had drawn their blades. Who could make them retreat now? Xu Fengnian unfastened his twin sabers, Chunlei and Xiu Dong, stripping off all his clothes, including the Kirin Silk Armor, said to be impervious to blades and bullets, yet cracked by a kick from a young assassin. Slowly entering the pond, blood immediately floated to the surface, like a giant red lotus blooming. Xu Fengnian leaned against a cool stone, expression solemn. This unknown, near-fatal journey had brought him the fourth level of Dahuang Ting, opening a total of sixty-eight acupoints. His internal energy now flowed like an unending river, merging and harmonizing, indescribably wondrous. Confident now, he could wield his twin sabers not only to reach the Dahuang Ting in one breath but also to create two streams of Azure Lotus, endlessly renewing. Unless facing top-tier experts like Wang Mingyin, who could deliver a fatal blow in one strike, even against The Crimson Armor of Fu warriors, using refined techniques selected from various secret manuals, the odds would be fifty-fifty.
Xu Fengnian submerged slightly, his chin level with the water. He exhaled gently, creating ripples, muttering to himself, “Now I’ve obtained four The Crimson Armor of Fu, half a Wooden Horse Ox, and a saber manual. Not a bad haul.”
His eyes darkened, “Don’t forget the Jin’an Princess!”
Naked, he rose from the pond. Yu Youwei held a new ivory Jade Robe, turning her head away, unable to face the Prince directly. Xu Fengnian dressed himself silently, walking back to the carriage. Entering, he stared at the unconscious Qingniao, gently stroking her delicate face, a face he had always been too close to notice fully. Some people stand quietly beside or behind you, and only when you risk losing them do you realize you never truly memorized their features. Clenching his teeth, he suppressed the urge to turn Wang Mingyin’s corpse into a The Crimson Armor of Fu warrior, mocking himself, “Still my own uselessness.”
“My eldest sister, who spoiled me the most, my second sister who always seemed to need no care, my younger brother Huang Man’er born with Realm of the Diamond Body strength—no matter how much you never seemed to need it, I always wanted to protect you one day.”
“Father Xu Xiao failed to protect our mother. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Slowly releasing the sabers, Xu Fengnian picked up a leaf plucked from the woods, placing it to his lips, playing a tune.
The《Spring Spirit Melody》ended.
With red eyes, he whispered, “Mother.”
Suddenly, after rhythmic hoofbeats, a thunderous, ear-splitting voice shattered the moment.
“Your Highness! Lu Qiu’er deserves death! If anything happened to you, Lu Qiu’er would personally carve open the Jin’an King Zhao Heng’s backside like a flower!”
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