Chapter 108: Taming the Mind-Monkey, Binding the Will-Horse: The Embryonic Immortal Realm (Request Subscription)

“Embrace the One, guard the spirit, refine Qi into form—this is the first glimpse of the path.”

Embrace the One, the key lies in the word “guard.”

Restrain the mind-monkey, bind the will-horse.

Cast aside all distractions, prevent essence, Qi, and spirit from leaking out—this is the foundation of nourishing Qi.

Li Rui’s breath was long and steady, his expression serene.

In the dantian.

A thread of mysterious clear Qi twisted end to end, interwoven, coiled into a perfect sphere.

Chaos!

Before heaven and earth opened, there was chaos; all things arose from chaos, turbid Qi sank to form the mortal realm, clear Qi rose to form the immortal realm!

Li Rui suddenly opened his eyes.

“An embryonic immortal realm?”

Compared with the Nine Mystical Spirit Sky Diagram.

He confirmed again and again that the mysterious clear Qi within him had indeed coalesced into form—though this was merely the beginning; only after chaos first broke open could it be called true formation of the immortal shape.

“Huh!”

Li Rui exhaled a long breath.

Joy flashed in his eyes.

The mysterious clear Qi had formed chaos—this progress was far faster than he’d imagined.

“Perhaps it’s because I read the Dao scriptures.”

That was why he had aligned with the immortal-form Qi, as if aided by divine force.

Paozi Ridge.

Winter had arrived; the forest was withered, fallen leaves piled layer upon layer, golden across the ground.

Crack, crack.

A hurried sound of footsteps crushed the dry leaves.

“Damn it, are these beasts on spring tonic?”

Zhang Yang cursed under his breath.

These past days, he’d been camping with Wei Ming in Paozi Ridge, killing a few beasts, but each one was fiercer than the last.

Once, if Wei Ming hadn’t arrived in time—

He might have died in these mountains.

Wei Ming stared at the beast corpses on the ground and frowned: “Are the beasts in Qinghe this fierce?”

“.”

After staring for a long while, Zhang Yang could only say: “They weren’t like this before.”

He’d killed beasts before.

Generally, even if beasts lacked high intelligence, they still possessed basic instincts—like fear of death.

But the beasts he’d encountered lately acted as if they had no fear of dying, attacking without defense.

Clearly, they were trying to trade their lives for his.

Zhang Yang naturally didn’t want to die fighting a beast; hesitation in battle left him restrained, and since combat favors the bold, he naturally fell into disadvantage.

Wei Ming rubbed his chin:

“Forget it. Who can explain these things?”

Besides restraining local martial sects, the Anan Army’s other duty was suppressing rebellious beasts.

Over the years,

He’d killed at least twenty or so beasts himself.

The mountains held too many secrets.

Impossible to uncover them all.

He’d seen stranger things than this.

“Still, the beasts in this area have been mostly cleared out—enough to give General Cao a report. You’ve worked hard, Deputy Commander Zhang.”

Zhang Yang’s face lit up at once.

With Wei Ming’s words, all his hardship hadn’t been in vain.

Worst of all was working hard and still being dissatisfied—that was true misfortune.

On the way down the mountain,

Zhang Yang’s heart burned with warmth.

Suffering with a nobleman—besides the hardship, there was nothing but gain.

Wei Ming wasn’t an official who sought glory or flaunted rank; he’d stayed in the mountains as long as Zhang Yang had.

They were both men.

Their feelings were much the same.

Zhang Yang felt discomfort; Wei Ming felt it too.

They both cursed a bit, then dreamed of the joys awaiting them after descending—thus their bond formed.

While still on the mountain, he’d already discussed it with Wei Ming.

Kill beasts, then visit the brothels!—The Jiaofang Si! Actually, the Qinghe Branch had misunderstood him; Deputy Commander Zhang wasn’t just fond of refined elegance and uninterested in women.

Didn’t he want to hold a girl’s hand, then spend a night of spring delight?

Damn it.

He had no money!

Though he was Deputy Commander of the Heaven and Earth Alliance’s Qinghe Branch, he was born a peasant, his wealth painstakingly saved bit by bit.

Martial cultivators were all gold-swallowing beasts.

He earned much, but spent even more.

He had no interest in the common courtesans of brothels and taverns—so he could only listen to music?

But as the saying goes:

Save when you should, spend when you must.

To treat a man like Wei Ming, the standard couldn’t be low—you’d grit your teeth and go to the Jiaofang Si.

But then he remembered Wei Ming’s seven or eight men too.

His heart ached.

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“Grit your teeth—just this once. Let the wealth stay in the family.”

“Bring Old Li along!”

Inside the Jiaofang Si.

Clear, crisp lute music blended with soft, southern dialects, melting the soul.

“We come here often.”

Li Rui gazed at the familiar room.

He’d been here many times, but never paid for it himself—in a way, he was freeloading.

The host, of course, was Zhang Yang, whose hands wandered constantly over the girl beside him.

He was determined to recoup his losses.

Also present were Wei Ming and several members of the Flying Eagle Corps.

Wei Ming’s right arm lounged comfortably around a plump, rounded woman; his left hand lifted a wine cup and took a small sip.

“This is life.”

The Anan Army had strict discipline; opportunities to enjoy oneself were rare.

He wasn’t made of iron—he naturally loved this life of luxury and indulgence.

“Brother Zhang, Brother Li, from now on we’re brothers. If you need anything, come to me.”

“Brother Wei.”

Zhang Yang’s smile widened.

The effect was achieved—this money was well spent.

Li Rui smiled faintly: “Brother Wei.”

But Wei Ming’s words were at most thirty percent sincere—no different from drunken boasting, lacking true intent.

Zhang Yang had helped Wei Ming, but not with anything truly difficult.

They’d shared a drink.

At best, they were drinking buddies; calling each other brothers depended on context.

There was naturally some goodwill.

For small favors, Wei Ming might help—but if you came with a hot potato, that brotherhood ended.

Of course, goodwill always grows gradually.

They’d surely meet again.

One meeting after another, and they’d become family.

A good impression won half the battle.

Cups and chopsticks clashed, and after three rounds of wine.

A young hawk rider soldier began speaking of the mountains:

“Brother Zhang, you’re right today—that beast wasn’t normal, it fought like it had no fear of death. If it weren’t for Head Wei, we’d have been done for.”

Thinking of today’s scene,

he felt a chill of dread.

At this, Zhang Yang’s hands paused for several breaths, then he turned to Li Rui:

“Exactly, Brother Li—you don’t know, that beast acted like it held a grudge, just like that giant lizard we killed before.”

Li Rui’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Nine-horned Silver Lizard?

Only he knew: the Nine-horned Silver Lizard had been certain death, yet somehow, it had come back to life.

He had pondered it endlessly afterward, and pored over countless texts.

One incident could be dismissed as fortune or coincidence.

But now, hearing Zhang Yang say this, it wasn’t an isolated case—something deeper was at play.

After a moment of thought, his heart leapt.

“There’s a treasure in Paozi Ridge!”

(End of Chapter)