Chapter 58: The Unpronounceable

Outside the inn, only that unfortunate Jishi Valley alchemist stood alone.

The sunlight warmed his body, but could not warm his icy heart.

Wasn’t it agreed we’d go out together today to tour mountains and waters, exchange cultivation insights?

Why did he end up coming out by himself?

From time to time, people inside the inn came and went in pairs, mostly chatting about yesterday’s trial.

“Honestly, I think the body cultivators and sword cultivators were the hardest to fight in this trial—these two types had it way too easy at the Qi Refining stage.”

“True. I was just unlucky—my first three opponents were body cultivators, then two sword cultivators in a row. By the sixth round, I finally got a magic cultivator, but after winning, my rank had already dropped below three thousand.”

“You really are unlucky.”

“Sigh~ If they’d just released the rankings, we could’ve seen who the hell took first place.”

“I don’t care who got first, but I’m curious who the hell designed this trial.”

“Wasn’t there an ancient cultivator who just came out of seclusion? Maybe it was him.”

“Huh? Isn’t the one who came out of seclusion a demon cultivator? He was trying to forge the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.”

“Those two aren’t the same person at all—the demon cultivator who wanted to forge the Ten Thousand Souls Banner was the older brother of ‘Cang Jiezi’ three years ago. The Taishang Dao Sect even posted an official announcement about it.”

……

The voices grew fainter, and their conversation drifted from the trial to other topics.

To be unlucky just three times facing body cultivators—what does that make me, facing them seven times straight? He looked up at the sky, filled with melancholy.

“Senior brothers and sisters, you all passed the first round of the trial, right?” “Younger brother.”

The sudden voice startled him; he turned toward the inn’s lobby, disbelief in his eyes.

There, his senior brother and other disciples from various immortal sects were walking out.

“Senior brother~!”

His heartfelt cry startled everyone.

Even his own senior brother froze for a moment.

This younger brother of mine is usually so composed—he hardly ever fights anyone. What’s gotten into him today? “What’s wrong, younger brother?”

“Did you also challenge the Wu Li sword cultivator and get mentally shattered?”

Everyone glared at him.

Can you just shut up for once?

The Longxiang Qiantian Sect body cultivator scratched his head awkwardly, yet felt puzzled.

What did he say that was wrong?

“Don’t lose heart, younger brother. Wu Li cultivators are rare—we should focus on our own paths.”

His senior brother dared not say anything like “you’ll catch up eventually,” lest some mouthy fool retort.

Others also cast him comforting glances.

His senior brother walked over and patted his shoulder.

“Just focus on preparing for the second trial.”

The alchemist was speechless with frustration—he wanted to explain he hadn’t passed the trial, but under everyone’s gaze, he couldn’t utter a word.

/(ㄒoㄒ)/ Why doesn’t this trial test alchemy? …………

In the afternoon, Xiao Fan went to the city library.

He had worried for hours, but still couldn’t figure anything out.

So he left home, intending to prepare for the second trial.

Inside the library, a faint scent of ink lingered in the air; stretching before him were endless rows of bookshelves.

Further inside, winding staircases rose on either side, their entrances guarded by a thin film of spiritual light.

The library was eerily quiet, almost no one in sight.

The outermost shelves on the first floor held travelogues, essays, and biographies.

Books recording techniques and arrays were deeper inside, but all were ultra-low-risk: light-body techniques, cleansing spells, transport spells, air-conditioning arrays, and such.

All books on the first floor could be read for free.

But the second floor was different—it held martial arts for Qi Refining cultivators: sword techniques, knife forms, fist styles—so you needed to verify your identity and pay a certain number of spirit coins to enter.

The only sword technique and fist style Xiao Fan knew were learned here.

As for the third floor, he had never been there, so he knew nothing about it.

He was about to pay some spirit coins and head upstairs, but after only a few steps, a familiar tremor stirred in his heart.

Again. Xiao Fan stopped, gazing into the depths.

After hesitating long, he stepped forward, arriving before a deep-brown bookshelf, and reached out to take down a volume titled *Qing Xu Travelogue*.

The tremor in his heart grew stronger, just as it had when he touched the Dan Hua Cup.

Qing Xu—a famed perilous land in the Central Continent.

In ancient times, many ancient cultivators liked to leave behind their caves and legacies there, so every year countless cultivators ventured in.

Some returned laden with treasures; most never returned at all.

Clearly, the contents of this book were written by a cultivator who explored Qing Xu.

He carried the book to a nearby reading room.

He opened the door; inside sat only one girl, quiet and seemingly his own age.

Seeing him enter, she looked up and smiled gently.

Xiao Fan frowned, turned, and walked to another reading room.

The girl: “...”

It wasn’t because of that faint aversion—he feared strange phenomena might occur, and being seen would be problematic.

Fortunately, the other reading room was empty.

Xiao Fan found a seat, opened *Qing Xu Travelogue*, and flipped through its pages.

Guided by the tremor in his heart, he finally reached the page at the book’s center.

The paper was yellowed, as if soaked in water, rough to the touch.

“Still the same as before...”

After a two-second pause, he gently touched the page.

A slender thread of spiritual power flowed from his fingertip into the rough paper.

Instantly, the page glowed faintly, spreading a mysterious aura.

Hum~ In a daze, Xiao Fan felt everything around him being pulled away—as if in an instant, the world before him had transformed utterly.

Beneath his feet lay profound, chilling darkness.

Before him, strange characters he had never seen—each glowing with divine radiance—formed a profound, infinite method.

He had never seen them, yet understood their meaning.

Xuantian.

Cang Clan’s Battle Art!

Swords, knives, fists, feet, divine techniques, spells—all could be wielded with “Xuantian.”

Divine radiance flowed, coalescing into a sacred, vast figure. The figure stepped forward, raised its fist, and slowly struck—each motion swallowing mountains and rivers, grasping the cosmos.

Upon closer inspection, the form was unmistakably the fist technique he had learned before—but far more “perfect.”

Yes, perfect.

Compared to his own crude version, the figure’s fist technique was naturally complete, without a single flaw.

The difference was like heaven and earth! As the fist technique unfolded, Xiao Fan seemed to see the hazy vision again.

In the vision, those strange figures remained.

They sat suspended in the clouds, all beings prostrated beneath them.

In laughter, one waved a hand—the Milky Way trembled, spilling like wine into a cup.

With a single word, ten thousand spirits bowed.

Laughter, a wave of the hand—the Milky Way poured into a cup.

Mastering heaven and earth, drinking the Milky Way.

Xiao Fan was spellbound, a surge of grandeur rising in his heart.

But in the next blink, all illusions vanished—he stood again in the ordinary reading room.

Xiao Fan closed the book, murmuring: “This is the * Clan?”

Huh? He was confused, so he tried saying it again.

“* Clan.”

The character seemed muted—though he had spoken it, he heard nothing.

Why was this happening?

The character “Cang” had always been pronounceable before.

Please collect, please follow!! (End of Chapter)