Chapter 44: Surviving the Tribulation, Receiving Transformation

Xiao Fan didn’t notice the sudden appearance of this person—the searing pain piercing his soul had seized all his senses.

Moreover, if this person didn’t wish to be seen, he couldn’t have spotted him even if he stood right before him.

“Ughhh!!!”

That drop of blood entered through his brow and sank downward, as if his flesh, sinews, and bones didn’t exist before it.

Within just seconds, the vibrant, faintly pulsing blood reached Xiao Fan’s dantian; brilliant crimson light blazed in all directions, as vast and deep as an ocean, its boundless will churning—its blinding radiance spreading further, as if seeking to invade every corner of his body.

Soon, his dantian, meridians, even his bones, seemed coated in a thin film of blood—exceedingly grotesque.

Only that subtle, fragile Dao foundation floated uncertainly, emitting a faint glow that resisted the crimson light, preventing it from being stained.

Upon the Dao foundation, a single drop of blood, clear as red jade, hung motionless, shining brightly like a fiery wheel.

But as Xiao Fan, wracked by agony, lost consciousness and slipped into coma, the faint resistance against the crimson light dimmed considerably.

The blood drop hovering above the Dao foundation seized its chance and plunged violently! Hss! Like a red-hot branding iron thrust into snow, the faint glow was effortlessly pierced—the fiery, brilliant blood drop struck the Dao foundation without mercy.

Success!

A surge of triumph pulsed from within the blood drop—today, the foundational essence of humanity shall be seized!

Crack! A sharp snap, as if something had shattered.

The triumphant emotion froze, then twisted into utter terror and rage—on the Dao foundation, a massive, jagged crack had split through it, as if unable to bear the pressure, on the verge of collapse.

How is this possible!

How could the foundational essence of creation be so fragile!

Crack! Crack!

As the snapping sounds multiplied, countless fissures spread across the Dao foundation—it seemed ready to shatter at any moment.

The crimson light grew even more blinding and grotesque, filled with fury and resentment—but all those emotions ceased instantly.

It was a gaze.

A gaze woven from Dao and principle, descending from the farthest, highest reaches of the cosmos.

In an instant, the crimson light stilled; the vast, oceanic will beneath it flickered like a candle in the wind, ready to be snuffed out.

Outside.

The ordinary-looking, gentle figure smiled no more, rising to bow solemnly.

“Brother Dao, this was my plan—not an alien race seizing humanity’s foundational essence.”

His voice drifted faintly, as if carried to some unknowable, distant realm.

The will within the blood drop, crushed by that gaze, trembled precariously, on the verge of dissolving.

The next instant—perhaps his words had taken effect—the gaze vanished.

The dying will within the blood drop stirred weakly, desperate to flee from the crumbling Dao foundation—but it was already too late.

Boom! The shattered Dao foundation unleashed a terrifying shockwave; had the blood drop been at full strength, it might have withstood it—but now, it could not.

The last shred of will within the blood drop was annihilated in an instant by the shockwave of the collapsing foundation.

Xiao Fan’s body, too, was torn apart by the destructive force.

Sinews snapped, bones broken, all six viscera wounded.

He wasn’t dead yet—but death was near.

“The tribulation has passed; now, transformation awaits,” the figure beside Xiao Fan murmured.

Then he extended a finger; mysterious spiritual light sank into Xiao Fan’s body. The blood film coating his meridians, bones, and dantian slowly receded, transforming into a vast, pure surge of vitality.

His body, once like a tattered sack, began healing rapidly under this surge of vitality.

Sinews and bones reknit; all six viscera restored.

“Had it not been for that old ghost who died so soon, this might never have succeeded.”

With that Brother Dao watching over him, who in the Taixuan Realm would dare covet humanity’s foundational essence? Truly, they knew nothing.

“But it’s fortunate he was ignorant,” the gentle figure gazed at Xiao Fan. “You’ve gained part of that alien race’s heritage—you should now be able to contend with those favored by Brother Dao.”

…………

Amid swirling steam, Zhang Yunlu lay back, eyes closed, letting hot water cascade over her. The water slid past her delicate collarbones, continuing downward.

She took a step forward, lowered her head, opened her eyes—a faint violet aura flashed and vanished; her long, pale fingers curled slightly, as if sensing something.

The enemies she faced in trials grew stronger each time, forcing her to “die” many times each night.

Yet she wasn’t afraid—she even reveled in the sensation of dancing on the razor’s edge between life and death.

Sigh…

‘I’ve truly become abnormal.’

She turned off the water, stepped barefoot to the side, where a full-length mirror stood.

She picked up a towel, wiped the fog from the mirror, then stood before it, expressionless, studying her reflection.

Her once slightly chubby face had shed its last trace of childishness; her eyes, clear as spring water, now held a chill.

Tall and slender, with not an ounce of excess fat, droplets of water clung to her pale, smooth skin; her arms looked delicate but brimmed with explosive power.

How long had it taken her to become this way? A few days?

When she recalled, images flashed in her mind—the battles with the sword cultivator’s shadow, the comfort and fulfillment of holding the sword.

She understood: she could never return to who she was before.

Zhang Yunlu’s lips curled slightly: “But I do prefer this version of myself.”

…………

“You don’t even reply to your senior sister’s messages, yet you still send her cotton candy?”

Shenji Express, founded by the immortal sect Shenji Lianbao Pavilion, is one of the most renowned courier companies in the Taixuan Realm, serving the entire Central Continent and even parts of the Starfield Battlefield.

The only rival is Jishi Express, founded by the immortal sect Jishi Valley.

Alchemists and artifact crafters—a group of very wealthy… fragile people, Chi Jiuyu remarked.

She filled out the form, handed the light yet enormous box to the staff, then turned to Xu Xing.

“One thing at a time—I’m a very filial disciple!”

“Heh, I hope your senior sister feels the same.”

“Oh come on! Uncle, can’t you let me enjoy this a little longer?”

“Fine, I won’t say anything more.”

Having spent so long with this abstract disciple, Xu Xing felt his own mindset had grown younger.

After sending the parcel, the two walked out.

“Will you continue tonight?” Xu Xing asked.

“Of course!” Chi Jiuyu didn’t hesitate.

That Zhang Yunlu dies every night—and she hasn’t given up.

“I’ll eventually withstand the first sword… no! I’ll eventually withstand all three swords!”

“I might not accompany you again tomorrow.”

“I’m not that fragile.”

She muttered under her breath, walked a few steps, then glanced sideways at Xu Xing.

When she came, she’d assumed her uncle, having been in seclusion so long, would be a rigid, outdated ancient cultivator.

But he wasn’t.

“Uncle, let me ride you home on my bike—it’ll be faster.”

“I refuse.”

“Why? Last time was fun, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what you thought.”

Please collect and follow! (End of chapter)