Chapter 88: The Desire for Power

Within the quiet chamber, the Daoist in black robes sat cross-legged, his eyes half-shut in meditation. The silvery radiance of the moon poured over him, flowing into his body with each gentle breath he drew. The true water coursed through his meridians, circulating around his body before settling into his lower dantian, growing slightly in strength. The force of the dark and chilly true water condensed into a cold mist that wreathed his form.

With each cycle of moonlight absorbed, not only did his cultivation of qi progress, but even his body-forging practice advanced incrementally. In addition, streams of verdant wood essence energy gathered from all directions, accumulating in his pupils. With each session of meditation, it was as though he absorbed every last trace of spiritual energy from the world around him, leaving nothing behind. This domineering intent, that all things existed for him alone, was truly unrivaled.

After a long while, Lu Qian slowly opened his eyes and exhaled a turbid breath.

Grand Yin True Water Guidance Technique (Mastery: 1539/8000)
Nine Heavens Moonlight Blood-Refining Method (551/15000)
Grand Yin Golden Eyes (Initiate: 9/500)
Yi Wood Essence Lightning (Initiate: 6/500)

Half a month of cultivation had added only a scant one or two hundred points of progress. Most of the advancement in the Nine Heavens Moonlight Blood-Refining Method came from the fallen shade of Li Mingyou. Progress in the blood-refining method was much the same as in qi cultivation: one had to absorb the essence of the sun and moon or other forms of energy. Absorbing the spirits of wandering ghosts was possible, but hardly reliable—there were not so many spirits available for him to consume.

The Fish-Dragon possessed the trait of seizing the vital energy of all things for itself, so gaining progress was not overly difficult. Even so, diligent cultivation was still essential.

“Though the Golden Mirror ensures I reap what I sow, I must maintain daily diligence and hard work,” Lu Qian reflected. This treasure did not grant shortcuts; every increment of progress was earned through his own painstaking cultivation, not by idle waiting.

Once his training ended, he turned to see three paper servants busy with their alchemical tasks. The furnace blazed, the air thick with heat. One paper figure stood at the iron cauldron, vigorously stirring medicinal herbs with a spatula. The rich aroma of medicine wafted through the room, refreshing the spirit.

Another paper servant sat before the pill cauldron, further purifying and refining the prepared ingredients. The last paper figure was surrounded by floating vessels, methodically adding the medicines in a precise sequence and order.

Soon, a fresh batch of Astragalus and Angelica Vitality-Boosting and Blood-Replenishing Powder was prepared. The alchemical process differed greatly from ordinary herbal concoctions. Most herbs required boiling and decoction, but this method yielded a medicine that needed no further preparation—one could consume it directly.

Lu Qian opened the oiled paper package and swallowed the powder in a single gulp. The bitter taste exploded in his mouth, and a hot current surged down his throat, spreading through his entire body. His face flushed, warmth suffusing his limbs.

“Running low on herbs again,” Lu Qian noted, feeling the flush in his cheeks after taking the medicine.

His next goals were clear: first, to find a safe place, and second, to seek a method for advancing his spiritual cultivation—either a higher-level visualization technique or strengthening his bloodline to attain the realm of “blood infusing the whole body.”

At that moment, a youth entered the chamber.

Xie Han appeared much more spirited and confident than before. “Master Daoist, I have reached the Innate level!” Xie Han was elated. “There are fewer than ten Innate cultivators in the entire escort agency, and I’m the youngest by far—though I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Congratulations,” Lu Qian replied with a smile.

The martial training of mortals and the qi cultivation of Daoists were not the same. Cultivating qi involved refining essence into qi and transforming qi into spirit—a process where quantity transformed into quality. Martial arts, by contrast, focused solely on refining essence to produce so-called inner strength. The simplest distinction was that the higher a martial artist’s cultivation, the greater their appetite—some could reportedly eat half a cow in one meal. Daoist cultivators, on the other hand, ate less as their cultivation grew; Lu Qian ate only once every ten days or so.

“Very good. In a moment, help me gather more medicinal herbs—the more, the better.” Lu Qian paused, then added, “Also, keep an eye out for any unusual creatures on the market. Bring back some blood or flesh if you can.”

“Yes, sir!” Xie Han responded, his respect deepening.

The Daoist had merely given him a single dose of medicine, yet it had propelled him to the Innate realm. At this level, he could escape encirclement by hundreds of elite soldiers with ease, or even take the head of a commander. To reach the Innate realm at sixteen or seventeen was already a rarity among prodigies, yet before the Daoist, he felt as weak as an ant.

With this thought, his pride quickly vanished.

As he walked away, pondering these things, he suddenly collided with a group of people.

“Watch where you’re going!” scolded a man who bore a striking resemblance to Xie Han.

“Elder Brother!” Xie Han caught sight of the old man beside him and hurriedly bowed. “Greetings, Great-Grandfather.”

The elderly man’s face was covered in age spots, his hair and beard snow-white. Though he appeared energetic, a discerning eye could see that his body was in decline. This was Xie Xuan, founder of the Mighty Escort Agency and Xie Han’s great-grandfather.

Xie Xuan nodded absently at first, but when his gaze swept over Xie Han, he froze, then asked meaningfully, “Xie Han, how goes your martial practice lately?”

“Replying to Great-Grandfather, well enough,” Xie Han answered.

“Hmph! Not honest,” Xie Xuan suddenly struck at Xie Han’s shoulder with his palm. The force of the blow howled through the air, stinging the face.

Caught off guard, Xie Han was no match for the seasoned Innate master—especially since the opponent was his own elder, leaving him unprepared. He took the blow squarely.

Bang!

Xie Han was sent crashing into the wall, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

“Eyes shining, sun blazing on your face. Clearly your inner strength has matured, yet you conceal your power. Do you plan to take revenge on the main branch once your cultivation is complete?” Xie Xuan snorted coldly, then barked to the attendants, “Take him away and lock him up for three months. He is not to leave the house.”

As the founder of the Mighty Escort Agency, Xie Xuan’s words still carried great weight, even if he no longer handled daily affairs.

Several direct-line brothers looked on with schadenfreude, their expressions tinged with disdain. Clearly, they too looked down on this younger brother born of a courtesan.

“Great-Grandfather, I have been wronged!” Xie Han clutched his chest, his internal organs injured, unable to muster his strength.

He could only watch helplessly as the servants hauled him away roughly.

With a crash, Xie Han was thrown into the courtyard, swallowing a mouthful of dirt and dust.

“They have always looked down on me. I must gain greater strength, to make them regret today’s decision,” he thought, lying on the ground, biting his lip and clenching his fists, his eyes burning with humiliation and defiance.

Suddenly, he rose to his feet and went straight to a side room in the back courtyard, where he knelt before the door.

“Xie Han requests an audience with the Daoist.”

The Daoist was his only support. Even Innate masters were like ants before him.

He dared not barge in; the Daoist had told him not to disturb unless necessary.

Creak.

The door opened quietly.

A black-robed Daoist stepped out, his gaze clear and penetrating, as if he could see into one’s soul.

“For what reason have you come?”