Chapter 211: Chapter 201: Passage of Years
Winter turns to summer, spring to fall.
A year flew by in a flash.
At dusk, a sliver of the setting sun broke through the clouds, bathing the peak of Ancient Rock Mountain in its light.
Zhao Lin sat cross-legged on a large boulder, gazing at the crimson clouds on the horizon as he guided the Profound Yin Qi through his arms.
The Profound Yin Qi originated from the six Yin Meridians within his body. When he looked inward, he saw its color was a grayish-white, different from the pure silver of his Cold Ice True Qi.
Both the Three Yin Claw and the Celestial Frost Fist were powered by this Profound Yin Qi, and their force was concentrated in the hands. Training them together was synergistic, yielding twice the results with half the effort—such was the advantage of practicing Cultivation Techniques from the same source.
However, the Three Yin Claw focused on the five fingers, its energy flowing from the front of the palm directly to six acupoints at the fingertips: Shaoshang, Shangyang, Zhongchong, Guan Chong, Shaochong, and Shaoze.
These acupoints were distributed among the five fingers, with the little finger alone housing both the Shaochong and Shaoze acupoints.
The acupoints for the Celestial Frost Fist, on the other hand, were concentrated on the back of the hand and near the knuckles, at points such as Hegu, Yangxi, San Jian, and Ye Gate.
Zhao Lin drove his Profound Yin Qi to continuously surge through these acupoints and meridians.
Although his Qi Sea contained Cold Ice True Qi, it was an external energy and couldn’t be used for cultivation; he could only draw upon it when executing a technique.
He opened his five fingers, clenched them into a fist, opened them again, and clenched them again, repeating the motion.
Veins bulged on both the front and back of his hands. Dozens of grayish-white lines of energy became visible to the naked eye, writhing like earthworms just beneath his skin.
Zhao Lin’s mind was as tranquil as still water. After a year of training, his control over the Profound Yin Qi had become so refined that he could command it with perfect ease, just as he willed.
After an unknown amount of time, the flow of Profound Yin Qi suddenly hitched before accelerating. A sensation of long-pent-up energy finally being released washed over his entire body.
’My power has advanced another level!’
A flicker of joy crossed Zhao Lin’s eyes as he exhaled a long breath.
It was September and the weather wasn’t particularly cold, yet his breath shot out like a straight pillar of white vapor that lingered in the air.
But his smile quickly faded. He muttered to himself, "I’ve trained for a year. My techniques have progressed at lightning speed, but my cultivation is still stuck in the initial stage of the Blood Realm. And the sect tournament is only a few months away!"
Over the past year, he had not only cultivated the Sea Return Skill but had also simultaneously trained in four other Cultivation Techniques: the Celestial Frost Fist, the Three Yin Claw, the Cloud Flipping Skill, and the Rain Covering Force.
Thanks to the modifications from the Spirit Beast Scroll, this body’s innate talent was now second to none. Yet, there were still limits to what one person could accomplish.
The First Layer of the Blood Realm focused on tempering the five major organs. Zhao Lin had reached ninety-nine percent completion, bringing him to the very brink of a breakthrough.
But piercing this final paper-thin barrier required a tremendous amount of patient, grinding effort. Judging from the experiences of other inner court disciples, it could take anywhere from one or two years to as long as three to five.
Yang Lin didn’t interfere with Zhao Lin’s training, simply letting him proceed at his own pace.
Zhao Lin’s strength had grown so rapidly that he was now ranked fifth in the inner court, second only to the four top disciples.
Some had even started referring to them as the five top disciples.
In truth, Zhao Lin’s strength was already on par with Yao Chong’s. It was only due to the ranking system’s rules that a draw wasn’t enough to move him up.
This rate of progress astounded everyone in the Xingyun Sect. After all, Zhao Lin was only nineteen, and his cultivation was merely at the initial stage of the Blood Realm.
Such a display of talent was beyond what most people could even comprehend.
Zhao Lin considered pausing his training in the other techniques to focus solely on the Sea Return Skill. If he could just complete his breakthrough in the First Layer of the Blood Realm, his strength would be at least on par with Xiao Jin’s.
As he wavered, undecided, the setting sun suddenly peeked out from behind the clouds. It painted the mountain forest in a layer of gold, and the sight instantly lifted his spirits.
’I’m overthinking this. I’ll just let nature take its course.’
He had to admit, Yang Lin’s method of having his disciples train in the mountains was remarkably effective, at least for him.
He often stood on the summit, gazing into the distance, watching the crimson sun rise and the setting sun melt into gold, observing the turn of the seasons and the shift from day to night...
Through this, he gained a deeper understanding of both the martial path and life itself, and his temperament grew more carefree and detached.
Zhao Lin leaped off the large boulder, energy surging through his body as he sped down the mountain path.
Ever since he started practicing the Cloud-Flipping Force, he could openly expel streams of energy from his acupoints, as this was, after all, a technique centered on qi manipulation.
At his current speed, he could run down a Golden Leopard on foot.
The wind howled past his ears, and the sound of RUSTLING occasionally came from the woods.
Zhao Lin knew it was the sound of startled beasts. He kept his eyes forward and smiled to himself.
All the fierce beasts in the mountains "knew" Zhao Lin; they would hide the moment they saw him in the distance.
If any dared to show itself, Zhao Lin would chase it down and give it a sound thrashing to remind it how formidable humans could be.
Only then would it be safe for the apothecaries to gather herbs on the mountain.
Before long, Zhao Lin arrived back at his dwelling.
He pushed open the door and went inside. A kettle of hot water sat by the stove, and a large food container rested on the table. Beside it was a basket, covered with a simple cloth.
Ancient Rock Mountain was situated on the edge of the Yanyun Mountain Range, not far from the nearest towns. At the foot of the mountain lay a village called Shimang Village.
The Xingyun Sect paid the villagers to deliver meals to the disciples guarding the mountain and purchased any herbs they gathered at market price.
The food container held four dishes: mountain wood ear fungus stir-fried with wild duck eggs, mushroom and chicken stew, napa cabbage with fatty pork and vermicelli, and stir-fried cured pork with green peppers.
They were all hearty, authentic farmhouse dishes, and the aroma was tantalizing.
At the very bottom of the container was a small saucer holding two pickled cucumbers.
The basket held six large white steamed buns, which were still warm to the touch.
Zhao Lin’s appetite was instantly whetted. He sat down and devoured the meal, quickly polishing off every last bite.
"Today is September twenty-eighth. It’s been three years since I crossed over into this world. In a few more months, I’ll be twenty. Time really flies..."
Zhao Lin muttered to himself after finishing dinner.
It was a habit he had developed from his long stay in the mountains.
When he first arrived at Ancient Rock Mountain, he would often go for ten days or even half a month without speaking a single word.
The first time he returned to the inner court, he discovered it was a strain to even speak. He realized then that the prolonged lack of conversation had caused his verbal skills to atrophy. To counteract this, he forced himself to talk aloud for a while each day, and it slowly became a habit.
After a short rest, Zhao Lin took a packet of medicinal herbs from a cupboard, added water to a clay pot, and began to decoct them.
Each month, when he returned to the city to visit his family, he would purchase some cold-natured medicinal herbs from an apothecary hall.
The advantage of the Cold Ice True Qi was that it didn’t require active cultivation; its strength could be slowly increased simply by consuming medicinal concoctions.
Once the medicinal broth was ready, he let it cool before drinking it down, silently feeling the frigid energy diffuse throughout his body.
’These two new herbs are quite effective.’
Through a year of trial and error, Zhao Lin had discovered that more expensive didn’t always mean better. By adjusting the ingredients and observing the growth rate of his Cold Ice True Qi, he had gradually developed his own cost-effective and potent formula.
Early the next morning, Zhao Lin got up, washed his face, and stepped out of his house.
The mountain air was crisp, filled with the singing of birds and the fragrance of flowers—the environment was, without a doubt, superb.
He stood outside for a moment and saw several apothecaries in conical straw hats, herb baskets strapped to their backs, making their way up the mountain.
"Good morning, Lord Zhao."
The apothecaries called out in greeting.
It was because the disciples of the Xingyun Sect stood guard that the villagers could gather herbs and hunt on the mountain without being attacked by vicious beasts. For that, they held Zhao Lin in high esteem.
"Morning, everyone," Zhao Lin replied with a smile.
Comments