Chapter 91: Rumors Spread

Since learning that the Yuwen family planned to move against Lady Wenjing.

Since going blind, I haven’t gone out to claim the bounty for catching the killer.

But Chu Tianshu’s life remained as full as ever.

He treated patients, promoted some herbal formulas, and trained.

Every night, he checked the demonic material and qi reserves progress—he felt a growing urge to stir up trouble, but it wasn’t yet the right time.

As the saying goes: build high walls, stockpile grain, delay proclaiming yourself king!!

To achieve that moment of triumph and wild exultation at the summit, you must endure patience, seize opportunity, and grow stronger.

These past few days, Chu Tianshu trained the Heartfire Fist posture in the afternoon; in the morning, besides treating patients, he practiced the “Blood Refining Military Art.”

According to the Blood River Cart, when first performing the rites to nurture soldier-souls, one must find a quiet place, preferably where yin energy is present but concealed.

Soldiers in the army who met the standard and were taught the Blood River Cart initially trained near their garrison, on battlefields.

The battlefield’s yin energy was sufficient; to make it concealed, simply train at noon.

At that time, yin energy was usually very restrained.

Chu Tianshu found no large-scale battlefield near this Nanzhao capital.

But outside the city lay a mass grave.

Elderly people with no children, wandering swordsmen seeking fame, beggars and vagrants—all went unburied properly and were dumped there.

He estimated the grave’s yin energy fell short of a major battlefield, so he wouldn’t go at noon.

Instead, he’d train in the morning, when the environment’s yin energy matched the required state.

Those buried here had nothing but mounds—no wooden plaques with names.

Some mounds were huge, as if dozens of bodies had been buried at once.

Others were tiny, as if only a child had been laid to rest.

Though sunlight shone brightly overhead, here it cast only cold, lonely shadows.

Chu Tianshu stood in the shadow of a mound taller than a man, unfastening the Sanqi Divine Sword from his wrist.

A faint surge of mental force—and the sword hummed, straightening like steel.

The Blood River Cart had not yet been refined by the token; Chu Tianshu had no indescribable “correct” feeling in his mind.

Yet he mastered its basics quickly, relying solely on his understanding of the text and diagrams.

Because the Blood River Cart’s three carts and three gates focused on the subtleties of moving blood and qi.

Chu Tianshu himself possessed a formidable physique and pure blood—equivalent, in terms of the Sheep, Deer, and Ox Carts, to someone who had trained deeply in the Deer Cart stage.

He needed no tiny pricks to draw blood; he simply exerted force, and a drop of crimson welled from his left index fingernail.

He touched the tip to the sword and began tracing the pattern.

As he traced, the mental images in his mind shifted.

Visualization was simple to describe, but difficult in practice.

One should know one’s own hand intimately, yet merely imagining its front and back.

Imagining the dynamic change as the hand clenched into a fist, without distraction, without attention drifting to other thoughts.

Just that alone required long training; any stray thought, any momentary lapse, broke the visualization and rendered it useless.

Only after building solid foundation could complex patterns appear instantly in the mind, every detail vivid, as effortless as lifting a finger.

Only then could one multitask—visualizing while chanting incantations or drawing talismans.

When Chu Tianshu studied the “Ghost Gate Medical Annotations,” he spent more time on this fundamental skill than on all later acupuncture techniques combined.

The Blood River Cart’s visualization diagrams required no mental force to radiate outward; each was slightly easier.

Yet this was precisely what confused Chu Tianshu.

If mental force didn’t radiate outward, how could these visualizations affect anything beyond the body—how could they influence a weapon?

Why visualize at all when coating the weapon in blood?

Warriors’ visualization focused inward; the only way to connect with the outside was if some powerful spiritual force actively perceived the warrior’s visualization and aura shifts.

In his homeland, martial artists, when meeting certain conditions, could likewise perform rituals to communicate with spirits and deities.

That was the principle.

Could it be that soldier-souls formed so easily here because spirits and deities aided them?

Chu Tianshu wanted to test this.

These past days, he’d performed the rites repeatedly and faintly sensed subtle shifts in the atmosphere—but the changes were still too weak.

Gradually increase them.

Today, after completing this Blood Refining ritual, he’d amplify that atmospheric shift from a faint, vague sign into clear perception.

The pattern on the sword resembled incantations, seal script, or cursive script birds—flowing, continuous, covering the blade.

After finishing one side, he traced the same pattern from near the hilt to the tip on the other.

A single trailing stroke, finer than the blade’s tip, left a faint crimson trace.

Huuu!!

A strange wind stirred among the graves.

The grave soil turned black; the wild grass grew darker green.

Especially around Chu Tianshu’s feet, faint white smoke seemed to rise from the soil’s tiny pores.

Chu Tianshu lowered his gaze, deeply startled.

Was this… spiritual realm energy?!

Yet no ghostly entities were present, no Dragon Hua ritual—no sense of divine power descending from afar.

The atmosphere had changed, but only in ambiance.

Not the actual environmental overlap seen in the Overflow Zones.

Chu Tianshu looked around, took a few steps.

Confirmed—it was purely atmospheric change.

Even worse, his movement violated ritual protocol.

The faint spiritual energy began to dissipate.

Such easily dispersed spiritual energy—back home, no one would believe it written in a report.

Chu Tianshu’s mind raced through many theories; finally, one seemed most plausible.

That this world had something akin to the spiritual realm.

But its “spiritual realm” existed differently—lacking countless wandering spirits or spiritual species, instead favoring the spirit of weapons.

The ancestors of this world discovered this trait and exploited it.

Hence, “Blood Refining Military Art” became the most vital pillar of martial cultivation.

Hence, the soldier-soul path flourished so greatly.

“If so, will the soldier-soul I cultivate here still work when I return home?”

Chu Tianshu recalled his knowledge.

Soldier-souls were rare in his homeland because forming them was too difficult—no one knew how.

But nurturing them was simple, little different from tending ordinary spiritual entities.

If he could form a soldier-soul here, he’d bypass the hardest step; bringing it home would require only nurturing—easily done.

“Since it relies mainly on the environment’s uniqueness, I must nurture this sword-soul as strongly as possible in this world.”

Chu Tianshu calmed his mind, returned to his spot, held the sword horizontally before him, and silently visualized.

A faint, ethereal energy rose from the soil and coiled around the Sanqi Divine Sword.

The daylight grew brighter; the graves’ shadows grew shorter.

Chu Tianshu stood still, visualizing for an hour, felt the sun’s heat intensify, and, per the Blood River Cart’s instructions, ended his visualization.

He rewrapped the Sanqi Divine Sword around his wrist, hid it beneath his sleeve, and turned to stride away.

It was lunchtime; the Wen family tavern should be bustling.

But when Chu Tianshu returned, he found few customers, all whispering, not eating.

Several waiters leaned by the counter, visibly furious; Cheng the Blind leaned against it too.

Lady Wenjing stood behind the counter, pouring wine from a vat into bottles.

Chu Tianshu walked over: “What’s going on?”

Cheng the Blind said: “A few troublemakers came, and I drove them off.”

“Those bastards were trying to extort us. When we refused, they came back with rotting, stinking banana leaves, planning to toss them everywhere.”

A kitchen aunt added: “We threatened to call the authorities, but they shouted louder.”

“They claimed all Tang people are rich because we stole their money, so we should give half to them.”

A waiter said: “Total nonsense. We work from dawn to dusk selling food, barely scraping by—when did we ever steal from them?”

“Besides, not all Tang people are rich, and not all Nanzhao people are poor—why don’t they go harass the wealthy Nanzhao shops?”

Lady Wenjing suddenly tapped the wine vat, her tone sharp: “What do you mean, ‘why don’t they go harass wealthy Nanzhao shops’?”

The waiter turned, confused.

“Nanzhao is a coalition of dozens of tribes. Many who came near this capital arrived later than us Tang people, who were captured.”

Lady Wenjing’s voice was calm, clearly meant for the customers too.

“Nanzhao isn’t a single tribe, nor can it be represented by one or two individuals. Most are ordinary folk, struggling to make a living.”

“If you let a few bad apples turn the entire other group into our enemies, you’ve fallen right into their trap.”

The staff deeply trusted her and could only nod.

Cheng the Blind called out to Chu Tianshu and led him to a corridor near the guest rooms.

“These past few days, the Alliance of Gentlemen indeed had two or three important figures targeted in assassinations, but only one succeeded.”

Cheng the Blind’s expression turned solemn. “But when I inquired about the assassinations, I discovered several other prominent figures have also been targeted recently.”

“They aren’t members of the Alliance of Gentlemen—they’re chieftains and elders of several tribes near Wang Cheng: Xier, Bo, and others.”

Chu Tianshu understood: “You think this is also the work of the Yuwen family?”

“Lately, the claim that Tang people have seized Nanzhao’s wealth, causing the Nanzhao people to grow poor, has spread wildly. Those idle troublemakers, who once dared not cause trouble at the Wen family’s winehouse, have been emboldened by these rumors.”

Cheng the Blind snorted coldly. “I suspect all these incidents are orchestrated from behind by the Yuwen family.”

Chu Tianshu remained even calmer.

“But what benefit would this bring the Yuwen family?”

Chu Tianshu touched the sword on his wrist and smiled. “They may indeed be involved, but if they truly intend to spark something large-scale and escalate it further, it’s unlikely a single Yuwen family could sustain it.”

(End of Chapter)