Chapter 51: Dan Hua Zhan

Two spirit coins, less than a single spirit stone—how could the grace I bestowed ever be so cheap? If my brother in the Dao knew, he’d surely laugh at me.

“The opportunity you missed lies within—retrieve it.”

Xiao Fan dared not refuse and extended his perception into his storage ring.

All manner of souvenirs were piled together, like a small mountain.

So many items—did Elder Huo move an entire souvenir shop here? Soon, that familiar flutter returned; he focused his perception on a corner and willed it.

The souvenir cup he had returned to the clerk was pulled out.

“Infuse spiritual power.”

Xiao Fan obediently complied, unwrapped the packaging, and infused spiritual power.

Ding~ As the strand of spiritual power entered, a soft glow ignited, and the cup’s surface seemed to peel away.

In mere seconds, the outer layer had fully shed.

Without the intricate patterns or ancient shape, it became a delicate, magnificent white jade cup, radiating a faint aurora.

“Elder, what is this?”

“A cup.”

Xiao Fan: “...”

The next moment, the blinding white space began to contract; the surroundings seemed to return.

Hmm? No!

The returning scene was not outside the hospital—but... his own home.

Sunlight streamed through the window into the living room; on the coffee table sat half a glass of water he hadn’t finished that morning.

“Go try—it’s clear how to use it.”

How could I possibly...

Just as he was about to speak, hazy, blurred images surfaced in his mind: strange figures holding jade cups identical to his, seemingly laughing loudly.

Xiao Fan walked forward dazedly, mimicking those strange figures, lifting his jade cup to gently catch the sunlight streaming in.

How could sunlight be caught in a cup?

Something that sounded utterly absurd happened right then.

The once-empty jade cup, after Xiao Fan’s gesture, was now filled with a pale golden, strange liquid.

Yang Jing Dan Xi.

He had never seen it before, yet he knew what it was.

To forge the Foundation of the Dao, one must gather solar essence, condense lunar radiance, and refine stellar light.

And this—was the purest condensed solar essence.

“By day, the cup holds Yang Jing Dan Xi; by night, it cradles Su Po Zhen Hua.” Xiao Fan murmured, then turned to Huo, “Elder, was it because of that drop of blood?”

This ‘Dan Hua Zhan’ cannot be used by humans.

Yet I can use it.

In that instant, Xiao Fan understood many things—like the grand voice that rang when that drop of blood surged into his body.

To glimpse the secret of human creation... doesn’t that mean I’m not human? Then what am I now...?

“Never forget your heart—just remember always, you are human.”

With that, Huo vanished.

He’s no brother in the Dao—he won’t patiently explain to a junior who received grace. If you understand, you understand; if not...

Hah.

After all, it’s just a death.

…………

“I’ll take you somewhere later.”

Xu Xing held a bowl, using chopsticks to lift several slices of fish into the boiling, clear broth before him.

The translucent fish flesh changed color instantly—must be scooped out quickly, or it would overcook.

Since it was only briefly blanched, the fish retained slight chewiness, its spiritual energy still intact, tasting refreshingly sweet.

Paired with Chi Jiu Yu’s dipping sauce, it became an entirely different flavor.

She really wasn’t boasting.

“Huh? Where?”

Chi Jiu Yu shoved a large mouthful in, her cheeks bulging like a hamster.

“I mentioned I’d prepare a gift for you—it’s about time.”

A gift?

She’d nearly forgotten. Chi Jiu Yu chewed fiercely, swallowed hard, and asked eagerly, “What’s the gift?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“...”

Again with the riddles.

…………

Xuanjian City, outskirts.

Under Jiang Jing’s guidance, Li Qingyang and the Return-to-Soul Elder arrived at the site where the secret realm had once opened.

Though he’d agreed to purge the corruption, Li Qingyang remained curious about the elder’s “sword-nurturing secret realm,” so he contacted several who’d participated in the mission via the Miscellaneous Affairs Hall.

Li Fengping had just been released—he likely hadn’t seen the message.

The outer sect steward Xu Sandao hadn’t replied—he was probably busy with his own affairs.

So in the end, only Jiang Jing had been reached.

“It’s right here,” Jiang Jing stopped.

The Return-to-Soul Elder pulled out a talisman and stepped forward to open the secret realm’s passage.

But Li Qingyang gazed upward, as if seeing something intriguing.

“Senior Uncle?”

“Interesting—this realm’s sword must indeed be extraordinary.”

“Did the Hall Master see it too?” Jiang Jing said.

As a disciple of the Sword-Holding Hall, this title suited her best.

“Call me Deputy Hall Master,” Li Qingyang corrected. “You noticed it too, then?”

“Thanks to Brother Xu Sandao’s hint,” Jiang Jing knew her own limits.

“Hmm.” Li Qingyang nodded slightly.

To notice this state—this outer sect steward Xu Sandao is indeed capable. If opportunity arises, I’ll meet him.

If he truly is worthy, he could be brought into the Sword-Holding Hall for training.

Listening to their words, the Return-to-Soul Elder was bewildered.

Over the years, the corruption’s influence on his spiritual essence had worsened; his soul perception had grown hazy, so he couldn’t sense the sharpness above that faint green aura.

If he’d been in this state back then, he might never have found this secret realm.

“Begin,” Li Qingyang said coolly.

He could already sense the subtle spatial fluctuations hidden in the void—this secret realm didn’t seem to reject outsiders.

Seeing that his Senior Uncle had no intention to explain, the elder wisely said nothing more.

As he activated the talisman, just as before, an oval passage slowly unfolded, churning gray mist tinged with red light.

“Senior Uncle, it’s inside.”

“Mm.”

As a Dao-Union cultivator, Li Qingyang didn’t hesitate—he strode directly inside.

Within the secret realm, a crimson moon hung high; a colossal sword-shaped peak towered at the world’s center, bound by chains stretching from unknown origins.

Beneath the peak, a vortex opened, and Li Qingyang stepped out.

“So this is the sword-nurturing secret realm?”

His gaze swept across the endless Tongxuan grassland without pause—perhaps precious to ordinary cultivators, but beneath his notice.

Then he turned to the sword peak. Li Qingyang, once casual, grew solemn.

The power contained within this mountain exceeded the Dao-Union boundary.

This secret realm was truly not ordinary.

Something’s wrong...

The next instant, Li Qingyang snapped his head upward, staring at the crimson moon hanging in the heavens.

“...”

Cold sweat broke out instantly.

He couldn’t fathom it at all—but his sword intent trembled; his clear sword heart seemed shrouded in overwhelming shadow, as if sensing an absolute, supreme presence towering above it.

This was beyond his comprehension! “Li Qingyang of the Sword Sect, pays homage to the Elder.” Li Qingyang bowed respectfully.

Inside, he felt like he’d been kicked by a dog.

What the hell! You’re a Return-to-Soul cultivator—a half-dead one at that—and you actually thought you could subdue a sword of this level? You claimed the sword’s master is dead? No—he doesn’t even deign to notice you!

Please collect, please follow! (End of chapter)