Chapter 108: Life-Death Zen Body, Upper Scroll (Thank You, Lord Heavenly Dao)

On the roof of Dashunzhai, unnoticed by anyone.

Jiang Chengyun sighed helplessly; whether it was a professional habit or not, even after returning to Qingzhou City, his grandmother always preferred to linger in such strange places, and during daily life, she still pretended to be harmless.

Aqian sat with her two pale, slender legs crossed: “Speak up—why did you come back so fast? What did you do?”

Hearing this, Jiang Chengyun’s face remained expressionless: “I stood on a tree and watched.”

“And then?” Aqian turned back, puzzled.

“And then I came back.” Jiang Chengyun subtly sneered—he didn’t even know why he’d gone out in the first place.

Seeing his defeated expression, Aqian couldn’t help laughing: “Is he really that powerful?”

Just earlier, this grandson had looked down on Shen Yi—how could his attitude have changed so much after one outing?

“Even more than you imagine.”

Jiang Chengyun exhaled slowly, his expression complex: “Stronger than I was in my prime—including you and General You when you were young. His moves are more decisive, more ruthless. Given time, he won’t lose to me.”

“So you plan to bring him along and replace all of us old folks?” Aqian stretched lazily, utterly unconcerned.

“I have no ability to lead anyone, nor will I shelter him.” Jiang Chengyun slowly clenched his fist.

At these words, Aqian finally showed a flicker of surprise.

From the tone, her grandson had already regarded that young man as a rival.

A martial cultivator who had formed a Golden Core felt pressure from a young man at the peak of Jade Fluid?

“Ha, credit this achievement to his identity as the Silver Bell Demon Hunter. Don’t go through the Town Demon Office route—once he’s amassed enough merit, quickly exchange it for a Golden Core formation method and purification at the Martial Temple.”

The Town Demon Office seeks peace in Qingzhou and dares not allow even the slightest instability within its ranks.

But demon hunters? They love wielding such sharp blades—even if they might cut themselves.

“By the way, where is he?” Aqian asked, puzzled.

“He returned early to help monitor the Captains as they raided the Vajra Sect’s estate.”

Jiang Chengyun couldn’t help sighing—at such a young age, to possess such strength was already extraordinary; yet he also acted with such meticulous care and orderly precision.

First, he decisively surrounded the Vajra Sect; then he left the city to capture the demon; and without caring for empty fame, he restrained his nature, striving to complete every last detail of the mission.

Thinking of this, he frowned down at the young nobles below.

Nothing compares worse than contrast—what a bunch of trash.

“You’re idle anyway—before you leave, go execute those fake bald monks. They’re annoying to look at.” Aqian sentenced the Vajra Sect to death in one sentence, then rose: “I originally planned to find someone to show the boy the ropes. Since you’re so impressed with him, you’ll take him to Yong’an City to broaden his horizons.”

“Alright.” Jiang Chengyun nodded in agreement.

…

West City, Vajra Sect.

Countless Captains hurried back and forth across the shattered stone steps.

For such raids and family annihilations, they were extremely proficient—even items hidden beneath bed slats were searched clean.

Massive Buddha statues were smashed with staffs to ensure no treasures lay inside, then they moved on to the next building.

Shen Yi leaned against the carriage, idly flipping through the martial art manual in his hand.

Two Captains stood beside him, respectfully saying: “Lord Shen, shall we make a copy to take back for a more thorough review?”

After a moment, Shen Yi closed the hard-won martial art manual and tossed it aside: “No need. Just log it directly.”

“The Vajra Sect was once a renowned great sect—how could it have sunk to such poverty in just a few centuries?” one Captain felt embarrassed.

Its foundation, let alone compared to Qingfeng Mountain, was far inferior even to ordinary second-tier sects—where had all the silver gone?

“Exhausted resources trying to forcibly forge a body cultivator rivaling a Golden Core, to restore past glory…”

The other Captain stopped mid-sentence—he realized that since Lord Shen had returned and ordered them to act, the abbot was almost certainly dead.

“Go on with your duties.”

Shen Yi gave a slight nod. Once the two had left,

he summoned his interface and saw the new text displayed—his clear eyes flickered with barely perceptible delight.

【Golden Core. Life-Death Zen Body, Upper Scroll (Uninitiated)】

Indeed, upon first meeting the Vajra Sect’s abbot, Shen Yi had noticed his aura wasn’t from any demonic technique.

Based on his cursory reading just now,

this Zen Body required seated meditation to extract the concepts of life and death from the ambient energies of heaven and earth, using them to refine one’s body.

Black and white—death and life.

The former for destruction, the latter for rejuvenation.

The abbot’s Buddhist cultivation was likely close to his own; enlightenment through meditation was unlikely, so he took the easiest available sources of life and death to aid his practice.

And somehow, it actually worked.

Shen Yi glanced at the remaining four hundred years of demonic lifespan and sighed slightly.

How long had it been since returning from Qingfeng Mountain? Already down to this little?

This martial art was only the upper scroll.

Shen Yi had encountered many similar incomplete texts before—the most similar being the Golden Sun Eight Treasures Divine Body, which, when perfected, barely crossed into the Jade Fluid realm—but still proved useless against true Jade Fluid demons.

This half of the Life-Death Zen Body, if fully cultivated, would certainly grant him significant enhancement—but not enough to cause a qualitative leap.

What truly attracted Shen Yi was that it belonged to the Golden Core body refinement art, touching upon realms beyond Jade Fluid. And since he could condense demonic essence crystals, with sufficient lifespan, he could attempt to evolve it into a complete demonic martial art.

A complete Golden Core body refinement method could serve as the foundational scripture of a first-tier power.

After so long since his transmigration, he had finally encountered an opportunity to access higher-level martial arts.

What he now lacked could all be borrowed from demons.

Thinking of this, Shen Yi pulled out the silver bell from his belt—this artifact had drastically reduced the difficulty of acquiring demonic lifespan.

There was no need to rush.

Until dusk fell, he watched as the Captains packed item after item into crates and transported them to the Town Demon Office.

Shen Yi hitched a ride back to his villa.

Occasional murmurs drifted from within the courtyard.

On the table lay still-warm meals, wine cups three-quarters full, yet no one had touched the chopsticks.

Zhang the Butcher played with the boy in his arms; Fang Heng stared at them with a hint of nostalgia. Hearing footsteps outside,

they turned their heads together, concealing their worry, and rose with smiles:

“You’re back.”

Shen Yi paused briefly, casually tossed the ferocious wolf cloak onto the back of the chair, sat down at the table, and lifted his cup to take a sip: “Something wrong?”

Hearing this, Fang Heng sighed helplessly: “We were worried something had happened to you, Lord Shen.”

To overpower the entire younger generation of Qingzhou—few ordinary people could pull that off.

Behind these youths stood countless old monsters.

Shen Yi not only did it—he did it flawlessly, leaving no room for criticism.

But no human can avoid mistakes forever; one must continuously display strength to make those old monsters withdraw their venomous glares and dare not look directly again.

If he could achieve this, Fang Heng advised his master to retire early and hand the Regional Commander’s position to Lord Shen.

“I…”

Zhang the Butcher raised his cup, toasted Shen Yi, and drained it in one gulp.

Great favors need no thanks—he simply didn’t know how to express gratitude.

He wiped wine stains from his beard: “No matter when or where, if you need the Butcher, just say the word—I’ll prepare my coffin and go do it for you.”

With the support of senior readers’ reading votes and rewards, this book has made it onto the Three Rivers list, and a senior reader has gifted a Grand Patron reward—this humble writer is truly overwhelmed. Additional updates are certainly planned, but temperatures have suddenly dropped sharply these past days, and this humble writer has fallen ill—head spinning, writing in a daze. Let me rest a little; I will make up the missed chapters with free ones before the subscription launch. Please forgive me, esteemed seniors.

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(End of Chapter)