Chapter 1179: Refining the Wings

“You consider it just a minor setback?” Wei Wuyi’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“What? Could it be that even with the combined efforts of you and Hehuan, you still couldn’t handle that Han kid?” Zhiyang Shangren asked in surprise.

“You overestimate me. Even with the two of us working together, we barely held our ground for a short while before suffering significant damage to our vitality,” Wei Wuyi replied impassively.

“Impossible! No matter how formidable Han Li is, he’s only recently advanced to the late stage. At best, he might be slightly stronger than the three of us. How could the two of you fail to defeat him?” Zhiyang Shangren shook his head repeatedly, disbelief written all over his face.

“Losing to a newly advanced cultivator is hardly something to boast about. Why would I lie to you? Moreover, I’m not afraid to admit this—his abilities are truly unfathomable. Though it may seem like we only suffered a minor defeat, he wasn’t even using his full strength. I even have a vague sense that he might genuinely possess the power to kill late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators like us.” A trace of fear flashed in Wei Wuyi’s eyes as he spoke.

Hearing this, Zhiyang Shangren was stunned into silence.

“Of course, if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to test him yourself at the Falling Cloud Sect. Heh, I suspect you came here from the Tai Zhen Sect precisely with that intention,” Wei Wuyi suddenly sneered.

Zhiyang Shangren’s expression shifted, but he didn’t refute the claim, confirming Wei Wuyi’s suspicion.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t humiliate myself. But I don’t care either way—my time is nearly up. Even if Han Li’s power rivals that of a Deity Transformation cultivator, I have no interest in meddling further. However, you and Hehuan still have years ahead of you. It might be unwise to provoke him,” Wei Wuyi added indifferently.

“What? Brother Wei, your lifespan is ending?” Zhiyang Shangren was momentarily stunned before shock overtook him.

“Indeed. I advanced to the late stage over two hundred years before you, so naturally, I’ll depart sooner. I estimate I have only a few years left. You and Hehuan still have time—your hopes for reaching Deity Transformation aren’t entirely lost. There might still be a sliver of opportunity.” The elderly man in green robes wore a desolate expression.

“Brother Wei, you…” Zhiyang Shangren wanted to say something but found himself at a loss for words, his expression complex.

“As long as the Great Dao remains unattained, no matter how much we dominate the mortal realm in our prime, it all amounts to nothing in the end. Brother Zhiyang, we’ve known each other for so many years. If you’ll heed my advice, disengage from the affairs of Tian Nan and your sect. Focus solely on cultivation. Don’t end up like me, waiting helplessly for death. Moreover, with Han Li’s current power, even if you and Hehuan join forces after I’m gone, you won’t stand a chance. It might be better to relinquish the empty title of Tian Nan’s top sect and earn his goodwill. The rise and fall of sects is commonplace. I doubt he’ll press you further, allowing you to concentrate on your cultivation.” Wei Wuyi spoke slowly and deliberately.

“Thank you for your words, Brother Wei. I’ll give this careful thought.” Zhiyang Shangren was visibly moved by Wei Wuyi’s sincerity.

“Very well. I’ve said my piece—whether you listen is up to you. I’ll return to my island now. This is likely the last time we’ll meet.” Wei Wuyi clasped his hands lightly and, without waiting for a response, transformed into a streak of light, shooting toward the Seven Spirit Islands.

Zhiyang Shangren remained motionless, lost in thought.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the Taoist sighed deeply and transformed into a white streak of light, heading in the direction of the State of Xi.

The late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator of the Tai Zhen Sect had ultimately decided to meet Han Li in person.

If this rising powerhouse was truly as terrifying as the rumors suggested, he resolved to follow Wei Wuyi’s advice—return to his sect, enter seclusion, and prepare for his attempt at Deity Transformation.

A month later, news spread that Zhiyang Shangren had personally visited the Falling Cloud Sect but departed within half a day, returning to the Tai Zhen Sect and abruptly announcing his intention to enter life-or-death seclusion.

This development naturally sparked widespread speculation among the sects of Tian Nan. Even the most oblivious now understood that the Tai Zhen Sect elder had gained no advantage from his encounter with Han Li—otherwise, why would he retreat so swiftly and adopt such a submissive stance?

Thus, Han Li’s reputation as Tian Nan’s foremost cultivator was firmly cemented. The Falling Cloud Sect’s influence expanded exponentially, claiming control over most of the State of Xi within months.

The remaining cultivation sects in Xi either submitted willingly or relocated to other states to rebuild.

Though the Ancient Sword Sect and Hundred Craft Academy, due to their shared location in the Yunmeng Mountains, managed to survive and even expand their influence, they became effectively subordinate to the suddenly ascendant Falling Cloud Sect—a bittersweet outcome.

……

In a secluded chamber within the Falling Cloud Sect’s Mother-Child Peaks, Han Li sat cross-legged with his eyes closed. A massive formation was inscribed on the floor, and at its center hovered a pair of snow-white wings, crackling with silver lightning yet enveloped in a swirling blue-white flame.

With each rotation, layers of intricate runes shimmered across the wings’ surface, densely packed and countless in number.

Han Li formed hand seals, channeling the formation to release eerie blue-white fire pillars that continuously tempered the wings.

After an indeterminate period, Han Li ceased his incantations and opened his eyes. Gazing at the slowly rotating wings, he pointed a finger toward them.

The wings trembled, erupting in a burst of azure radiance as the silver lightning roared thunderously—a truly awe-inspiring spectacle.

Yet Han Li frowned, seemingly dissatisfied.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a small cyan cauldron. It spun briefly before settling steadily on the ground before him.

“What now? I’ve already explained the refinement method to you multiple times,” came a sigh from the cauldron. The voice was distinctly childlike, yet its tone was oddly aged, almost comical.

Han Li, however, showed no amusement. Instead, he replied coldly, “I followed your instructions precisely. Though I’ve integrated the Kun Peng feather into the Wind Lightning Wings and can now activate wind-attribute spiritual power, the result is barely comparable to pseudo-treasures like the Three Flames Fan. It’s nowhere near as powerful as you claimed. Were you deliberately misleading me?”

His expression was dark.

“Impossible! A Kun Peng feather is a supreme treasure—how could its power be so limited? Let me examine the wings.” A faint figure materialized atop the cauldron—the phantom of the Heavenly Luan Sacred Beast.

Without a word, Han Li gestured, and the Wind Lightning Wings shot toward the figure, hovering above its head.

The childlike figure scrutinized the wings intently, its expression shifting unpredictably. After a full meal’s worth of time, it closed its eyes in contemplation.

“I see the issue. The Kun Peng feather was far more resistant to refinement than I anticipated. Though it’s been integrated into the wings, the wind-attribute natural laws it contains remain dormant. Thus, the wings currently only possess the power of a pseudo-treasure, falling short of a true Heaven-reaching Treasure,” the figure explained upon reopening its eyes.

“How do I activate the Kun Peng feather’s power?” Han Li demanded bluntly.

“To awaken it now, you’d either need to switch to a wind-attribute cultivation technique—which, given your current level, might be barely feasible—or obtain an exceptional wind-attribute spirit stone,” the figure replied.

“Switching techniques or finding such a spirit stone—neither is possible for me,” Han Li dismissed immediately.

“Then it’s troublesome. There are other methods, but they’re unfeasible in the human realm. No point discussing them,” the figure conceded with a shrug.

“So, the fault lies not in my refinement but in your initial misjudgment?” Han Li retorted sharply.

“Well… that does seem to be the case,” the figure admitted awkwardly.

“Fine. The Wind Lightning Wings’ ability to harness both wind and lightning is satisfactory enough. If they were as powerful as you claimed, I likely couldn’t control them at my current level anyway.” Han Li’s expression softened unexpectedly, as if letting the matter drop.

The figure was taken aback, suspicion flickering across its face.

It knew this human cultivator—though his strength was negligible in its eyes—was not one to accept losses lightly.

“If you have conditions, state them. To make up for my error, I might be willing to accommodate you within reason,” the figure offered after a pause.

“Since you’ve raised the offer, I’ll accept graciously.” Han Li smiled faintly, seizing the opportunity.

The Heavenly Luan Sacred Beast’s avatar rolled its eyes.

Han Li tapped his storage pouch, releasing a stream of cyan mist that coalesced into several peculiar items: a fist-sized lump of transparent gel, three glossy black crystals (two small, one large), a black-and-white orb, and a thumb-sized dark eyeball.

“I acquired these materials by chance but lack the knowledge to identify their uses. Given your origins from the upper realm, you must be well-versed. I’d appreciate your insight,” Han Li said calmly.

“Hmm? Where did you obtain these? The others are ordinary, but these two are rare even in the Spirit Realm.” The figure’s gaze swept over the items before it reached out, drawing two toward itself.