Chapter 45: True Yin Body! The Perfect Furnace!

Jiang Ye did not hurry on his way but paused briefly beside a tea stall in the eastern market of Fucheng.

While sipping a bowl of coarse tea, he learned nearly all there was to know about the Tianqing Sect.

The Tianqing Sect lay deep within Tianyangfeng, east of Fucheng.

Its mountain gate loomed grandly, spanning a hundred li, with countless disciples—it was unquestionably the sacred ground of martial cultivation in Yunling Prefecture’s eighteen counties.

The sect was divided into outer and inner gates.

Admission to the outer gate was brutally strict—you had to be under sixteen and possess at least middling-to-superior root quality to qualify.

Even so, youths and maidens came daily in droves, hoping for luck, cramming the square before the mountain gate until not a single step could be taken.

Entering the outer gate was merely the beginning.

Once a year, only the most outstanding among them, those who advanced fastest in cultivation, could be promoted to the inner gate and become true “Tianqing disciples.”

Within the inner gate, there were six peaks.

They were Jincheng Peak, Qingmu Peak, Xianshui Peak, Tianyangfeng, and Houtu Peak.

At the center stood Juding Peak, the Sect Master’s residence and the sect’s very core.

Each peak emphasized different aspects of cultivation.

Wen Yueyao was a true disciple of Tianyangfeng.

“Truly formidable foundations.”

Jiang Ye set down his tea bowl, and his aged eyes flickered with a complex awe.

Just these fragments were enough to let him glimpse a sliver of that colossal entity.

“Good. Perfect chance to broaden my horizons!”

He no longer delayed, paid for his tea, and walked eastward.

The size of Yunling Prefecture far exceeded his expectations.

After passing seven or eight long streets and walking over ten li, the houses on either side still stretched endlessly, the crowds still shoulder to shoulder.

After another half-hour’s walk, the road ahead gradually widened, the pedestrians thinned, replaced instead by squads of young disciples dressed in uniform attire, swords strapped at their waists.

Some walked in groups of three or five, laughing and chatting; others hurried alone, faces tense.

Without exception, all moved toward the same direction.

Jiang Ye followed the flow of people and his pupils shrank slightly.

In the distance, a towering mountain gate loomed into view.

It stood over ten zhang tall, supported by two massive white marble pillars, each thick enough to encircle with both arms.

Carved into the pillars were intricate cloud patterns and immortal cranes, lifelike as if ready to soar into the clouds.

Above the lintel, three gilded characters shone brilliantly under the sun—

“Tianqing Sect.”

The strokes flowed with ethereal grace yet radiated an aura of supreme dominance.

Each stroke seemed to carry a mysterious rhythm; stare too long, and one’s mind would grow dizzy and entranced.

Behind the gate stretched a broad stone staircase, winding upward to the mountain’s midsection.

On either side of the steps, ancient trees towered, their branches interlaced, filtering the afternoon sunlight into dappled patches of light.

Jiang Ye took a deep breath and joined the crowd ascending the steps.

After roughly the time of one incense stick, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

It was a vast square, several hundred zhang across.

The ground was paved with blocks of grayish stone, smooth as a mirror.

Around the square stood continuous pavilions and halls, their eaves and brackets carved with intricate designs, radiating an ancient, solemn air.

In the center of the square stretched a long queue, winding like a serpent, numbering several hundred.

Most were youths and maidens, none older than early twenties.

Their attire varied—some wore coarse linen, poor scholars; others, silk robes and finery, sons and daughters of wealthy families.

All stood patiently in line, necks craned forward, staring at the front.

Jiang Ye asked around and learned these were all here to join the sect.

At the head of the queue stood two black lacquered tables.

Behind them sat two young disciples of the Tianqing Sect, taking turns feeling the bones of those in line—one hand pressed on the head, the other gripping the wrist, then declaring the root quality.

Those with middling-to-superior root quality wept with joy and were led aside for registration; those with middling-lower or lower root quality slumped in dejection and left quietly.

“So many come daily hoping to join the sect… how could it not flourish?”

Jiang Ye sighed inwardly, touched the warm black iron token in his robe, and silently joined the end of the queue without stepping forward.

The moment he stood there, every gaze around him snapped toward him.

An old man over seventy, hair white as snow, standing among a crowd of teenagers—this sight was undeniably bizarre.

The youths glanced at each other, faces twisted with strange expressions, yet none dared ask a question.

After all, this was the Tianqing Sect’s gate—no one dared act rashly.

At that moment—

“Why’s some old thing here butting in?!”

A clear, melodious, yet sharply cutting female voice rang out.

Jiang Ye’s eyes flickered with a hidden flash of coldness.

Along his journey, those who spoke to him had always called him “Old Sir.”

This was the first to call him “old thing.”

Jiang Ye turned toward the voice.

Five or six steps ahead stood a boy and a girl.

The girl wore a form-fitting black long dress.

The hem reached her ankles, her waist cinched tightly, accentuating her full chest and slender waist to perfection.

The neckline was slightly open, revealing a pale neck and delicate collarbones, beneath which something faintly visible.

Her face was lovely, yet her eyes carried an allure unnatural for her age—eyelids slightly upturned, lips crimson, lips curled in a half-smile as she gazed at him, her gaze brimming with unmasked disdain and mockery.

Beside her stood a boy of similar age.

He wore a silvery-white brocade robe, its fabric smooth as water, shimmering softly in the sunlight, embroidered with delicate silver cloud patterns at the cuffs and collar—clearly priceless.

His skin was pale as if translucent, his features refined, yet his brow radiated the arrogance and spoiled entitlement of one raised in luxury.

He now had his arm wrapped around the girl’s waist, head tilted slightly, looking down at Jiang Ye with utter contempt.

“Hua-ge, look—he’s glaring at me!”

The girl in black clutched the boy’s arm, her voice sticky-sweet.

As she spoke, her seductive eyes flicked sideways at Jiang Ye.

The boy immediately turned his gaze to Jiang Ye, coldly saying: “Old thing, dare to glare at me again!”

Jiang Ye stared at him without changing expression.

“Old thing, you—”

Seeing Jiang Ye utterly unfazed by his threat, the boy’s face flushed crimson, about to roar.

Nearby, a Tianqing Sect disciple tasked with maintaining order seemed to hear the commotion and turned slightly.

The boy gritted his teeth, forced to suppress his rage, and hissed to the girl behind him:

“Qinghuan, don’t rush. Once I join the Tianqing Sect, I’ll deal with that old thing—just hold on for now.”

The girl pressed her lips together, nodded reluctantly, voice still sugary: “Yes, I’ll listen to Hua-ge.”

Then, with perfect unspoken understanding, they both shot Jiang Ye a furious glare before turning away, pretending not to see him.

Jiang Ye watched their retreating figures with cold indifference, his expression unchanged.

About half an hour later, it was finally the boy and girl’s turn for bone reading.

The girl in black, named Qinghuan, stepped forward gracefully, her slender waist swaying in an alluring curve, drawing stares from many youths behind her.

She halted before the black lacquered table, extended her delicate wrist, and smiled confidently—clearly certain of her root quality.

The Tianqing disciple placed his hand on her head and gripped her wrist, his expression calm at first.

But moments later, his fingers froze abruptly!

Shhh!

He leapt from his chair, forgetting to right the overturned stool.

His face, once serene, now wore stunned shock, eyes bulging as if they might pop from their sockets.

He stared at the girl with burning intensity, as if he wanted to swallow her whole, and cried out:

“You—you’re a True Yin Body!!!”

That cry exploded like thunder, plunging the entire square into deathly silence.

The disciple beside him, who had been about to test the boy, spun around, shoved the boy aside, rushed forward, and began re-examining the girl—palpating her bones, checking her pulse.

His movements were hurried yet reverent, as if handling a priceless treasure.

Moments later, he lifted his head, eyes blazing with astonishing brilliance, voice trembling:

“It really is… the legendary True Yin Body!!!”

The entire square erupted.

“W-what’s a True Yin Body?”

“Never heard of it...”

Could this woman possibly be some kind of genius?

These two disciples of Tianqing Sect are this excited—it must be something extraordinary!

A chorus of murmurs buzzed through the crowd, hundreds of eyes locking onto the girl in the black robe.

The girl, overwhelmed by this sudden attention, blinked in confusion, her red lips parting as she froze, unsure how to respond.

At that moment, a young man in a gray brocade robe stepped forward from the crowd.

His face was refined, his bearing elegant, exuding a faint scholarly aura.

He bowed slightly to the two Tianqing Sect disciples, speaking calmly and without deference:

“Brothers, I once read in ancient texts about the ‘True Yin Body.’”

“It is said that a woman with this constitution possesses an exceptionally pure virgin true yin; if absorbed by a man, below the Golden Core realm, it not only aids in breaking through to the next stage but also purifies the body and forges the sinews and bones. Am I correct?”

The two Tianqing Sect disciples looked at him in surprise, then nodded slightly, their tone now tinged with approval:

“Didn’t expect someone so young to have such insight. Indeed, that’s correct.”

At these words, the entire crowd erupted.

“Absorbing her virgin true yin will let me break through?!”

“My god, is this real? There really is such a constitution?!”

“She’s the perfect cultivation partner!!!”

Countless eyes once again fixed on the girl—but this time, they were no longer filled with mere curiosity or envy; they burned with madness, raw, unhidden lust and greed.

The young men’s eyes turned red, their breathing heavy, as if they stared not at a living person, but at a divine herb capable of lifting them to heaven in a single step.

The girl trembled under their gaze, her lovely face finally twisting with alarm.

Instinctively, she leaned closer to the boy beside her and gripped his sleeve.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

The boy beside her, however, gazed at her with burning eyes and burst into wild laughter:

“Qinghuan!!! My precious Qinghuan!!!”

“You truly are the woman who brings me fortune!!!”

“I love you to death!!!”

Among the crowd, Jiang Ye looked down at the laughing boy with pity.

What a fool.

Your Qinghuan will soon have a new favorite.