Not caring for Chun Xu’s position, Zi Yao carried on. “The White Immortal sect’s old fools think that what I want is an imperial clan scion. Nonsense. The imperial clan would never give us what we want. The grievances that led them to promulgate the ban in the first place run too deep. Thankfully, it is not likely that they can hold on to their authority for much longer. That man will soon become the undisputed master of the East—if he’s not already. And if you can draw his attention, he will not mind giving us what we need. Xu’er, Master is counting on you,” Zi Yao said, making Chun Xu’s face grimace further.
Chun Xu had no knowledge of the Zi clan’s plight. But due to Dong Ling’s purple taipans and other inconsistencies that she’d sensed in their repeated fights, the Sword Fairy had started to formulate her own conjectures regarding the Zi clan’s secrets. However, it wasn’t until Zi Yao mentioned this “imperial clan ban” that the fog unveiled.
Barring the various states’ laws, the Eastern Continent only had two bans: consorting with demonic forces, and consorting with mysterious beasts. Of these two, the former ban came straight from the Central Domain while the latter was passed and enforced by the Eastern Imperial Court itself.
Combine Zi Yao’s words to this, and the fragments of truth started assembling in Chun Xu’s mind: ‘The Zi clan is consorting with mysterious beasts? No…even if they were, how could Dong Ling get her hands on purple taipans—beasts unique to the Western Continent? Unless…purple hair, lavender eyes…perhaps it was never due to any cultivation method. Perhaps from the start…they were mysterious beasts in disguise! No…Holy Beast Descendants!’ Cultivation methods that led to feature changes were not uncommon. For example, more than one fire law could permanently turn the practitioner’s hair red. Due to that, and all the tests they passed, the Zi clan’s predecessors managed to trick the Yanzhou folks into looking past their foreign features.
But as Chun Xu put the pieces of this puzzle together, she realized why the Zi avoided detection with such ease. Most of these tests had been designed for mysterious beasts in disguise—not Holy Beast Descendants. The structure of a Holy Beast Descendant’s body was too similar to a human cultivator’s. As long as they could conceal their monster cores, no one could identify them. Add to that a variety of shielding methods, and the Yanzhou folks failed to see through the ruse.
Barring a few exceptions, only Beast Generals and above could start cultivating Human Transformation techniques. But it wasn’t until they’d risen to Beast King that they could achieve a seamless transformation. For the Qi Refinement Dong Ling to have such a flawless human appearance and spirit pets to boost, only made sense for a Holy Beast Descendant. Instinctively, Chun Xu attempted to hide her stupor. But little did she know that it was precisely to have her figure out these facts on her own that Zi Yao leaked the hints. Satisfied, the Yin Matriarch pressed on.
“For this first session, I expect you to lead Xinzi into Soul Melding. Nurture his desires, play his heartstrings and make him your plaything. Master the Nine Paths, cultivate the Yin-Yang Sword Array to the highest level that impious monk can help you rise to. When the time is right, you will let him go for the better match. As per tradition, I will lead you two across the Tower of Harmonious Bliss and set things up for you. I expect great things from you, Xu’er, don’t disappoint me,” Zi Yao said, and with a dismissive wave of her hand, sent Chun Xu on her way. There was a saying in the White Immortal sect that Zi Yao only drank her Roaming Fairy Wine on two occasions: under the full moon, and when she was about to harm a person that she supposedly cared for.
As she watched her master take another sip of the wine gourd, Chun Xu couldn’t help but wonder if Zi Yao also drank that wine the night before the Yin-Yang Sword contest. Till now, the Sword Fairy wasn’t naïve enough to believe that her master wouldn’t use her for profit, but at least she hoped that she wouldn’t toss her into a flat-out fiery pit. What a letdown.
“Your disciple will do her best,” Chun Xu said, kowtowed to Zi Yao, and walked out of her spiritual cave. Left alone, the Yin Matriarch took a long mouthful of this potent wine, closed the lid, and dispatched orders for her sword maids to follow. Little did she know that the entirety of this discussion had been recorded by Tusha, who would soon be feeding all this juicy knowledge to Xinzi for some loyalty points.
Meanwhile, our monk cultivated in silence, seeking through the Nine Paths’ mnemonics the mysteries that’d lead him to his own unique skill. For Xinzi, mastering the cultivation-method part of the Nine Paths of Yin and Yang was no big deal. Reading through the mnemonics’ secrets, however, was a lot more complicated. Thankfully for our monk, unlike all those that attempted and failed to see through the Nine Paths, Xinzi came with multiple advantages: a Divine Soul, astonishing Soul Force and vast knowledge.
Where the most gifted took hours to sense the intricate designs of the Nine Paths, the monk could see the roads taking shape within minutes. His trembling eyelids returned to peace, and though the monk’s body still stood in his study, his mind traveled to another dimension, standing at the crossroad at which all realms connected. There, the world became a misty cosmic veil of black, dark-red and purple shades in which tiny stars sparkled. Seven celestial bodies swirled in the distance. Each of various shapes and structures, they breathed ancient primordial forces that filled the monk with sheer terror.
“Desolation, Tribulation, Emptiness, Stillness, Longevity, Reincarnation and Truth: the seven mortal worlds.” Xinzi recognized the Celestial Bodies, and his eyes moved on from them, wandering towards two diametrically opposed forces. One, a bright golden sword whose blinding light lit up this cosmic plane—the other, a more sober, dark-blue sheath that sucked most of the sword’s light in, preventing it from wreaking havoc throughout the cosmic plane.
The two attracted and repelled one another in the same breath, forever trapped in a chaotic equilibrium. “The Yin and Yang Sources.” Xinzi recognized them as well, and raised his eyes towards the firmament. Up above, a maelstrom of ruinous magnetic forces spread as far as the eyes could see, ensuring that anyone foolish enough to brave this step would suffer a fate worse than death. This maelstrom, the dimensional boundary separating the Mortal Realm from the Three Paradises, rarely manifested in a physical shape. Only in this world did low-level cultivators have the opportunity to see what it looked like and avoid it as they should.
Casting away all distractions, Xinzi shut his eyes. An opportunity like this to study the Dao at the nexus of all worlds only occurred once in a lifetime. Most would never get the chance. The monk joined his hands in a prayer sign, surrendering his soul to the amalgam of forces that met at this crossroad. Each left an imprint, a myriad of principles that Xinzi’s soul welcomed and deciphered bit by bit.
Needless to say, with his current accomplishment, there was only so much that Xinzi could get through this opportunity. A kaleidoscope of light rotated his form. Arcane principles resonated as well, singing an incomprehensible song that, with every lyric, carried the mysteries of the Grand Dao.
Some of the worlds attempted to pull Xinzi in and disturb his enlightenment. The Yin Source harassed him as well, unleashing wild suction forces that threatened to swallow the monk whole. The Yang Source got in the way, yet it too oppressed the monk with its rays, stimulating his primitive instincts—thereby forcing him to channel the limits of his Soul Force and tap in his Divine Soul to not only resist but also stay in control of the enlightenment process.
This was the step that led most of those that reached this point astray, but cut from a different mold, Xinzi wouldn’t let the mortal worlds and sources disturb his moment.
The monk stretched his hands out. An iron rod, a flickering flame, a wooden branch, a water drop, and a tiny rock—five miniature representations of the traditional phases took shape, rotating and switching places at breakneck speed. The five elements existed in a state of turbulent harmony—forever attracting, repelling, suppressing and surrendering to one another.
Xinzi’s eyes stayed shut. The elements swirled above his head—bringing alongside them brand-new mnemonics. When the monk’s eyes opened again, he’d returned to his study. Loud banging sounds came from outside, but lost in the moment, Xinzi failed to register them.
“I did it. I finally did it. This can replace it all. This can open the way that till now remained out of reach. I can still become a God—no, better—greater. Harmonizing the forces, alternating various states; with this Five Elements Transmutative Technique, my Creed of Liberation has reached another level of completion,” Xinzi said and burst into wild, unbridled laughter.
