Chapter 29

“Talking more about this is pointless; let’s return to the two pressing matters at hand—first, what is the Candle World Sect’s purpose in introducing this substance into the human body? Second, from your own safety, what effect does this substance have on you?” Xing Zhi said. “The first matter is precisely what Master Jing fears—he worries you may come under the control of the Candle World Sect through this substance.”

Pei Ye fell silent; this was indeed a reasonable suspicion, so he answered honestly: “I haven’t felt anything yet.”

Jing Ziwang said coldly: “It’s merely a matter of timing.”

Xing Zhi said: “Perhaps. But judging from the available information, once the ‘gourd’ entered your body, it underwent no qualitative change—we can still infer its nature based on that of the ‘Dragon Tongue.’”

“The nature of the Dragon Tongue… selection, soul invocation, consumption.” Pei Ye mused.

“Precisely. So can we infer that the Candle World Sect’s ritual aims to create living, self-propelled, predatory ‘human Dragon Tongues’?”

Pei Ye’s pupils contracted; Jing Ziwang narrowed his eyes at him, that oppressive pressure drawing near once more.

“Calm down, Master Jing,” Xing Zhi said. “First, this is merely speculation. Second, even if true, it doesn’t mean Pei Shaoyou is our enemy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because I believe these ‘human Dragon Tongues’ possess complete independent freedom,” Xing Zhi said. “First, the Dragon Tongue is not a tool—it is the core of all the Candle World Sect’s marvels, the ‘sacred object’ they worship. Since Pei Shaoyou has inherited the Dragon Tongue’s station, it is unlikely he can be controlled by anyone; if anything, he might control the Candle World Sect members instead. Second, the fact that the Candle World Sect chose one of their own with seven lifetimes of vein-tree cultivation as the host further proves they cannot control the ‘finished product’—they rely on the product’s own loyalty to hunt for them.”

The others nodded slowly; Jing Ziwang’s expression softened somewhat, but Pei Ye frowned: “If so, why sacrifice twelve people? Why not just transplant it directly?”

Xing Zhi sighed: “That is another point I cannot explain.”

Pei Ye felt the light cluster in his dantian—it seemed exquisitely formed like a placenta.

According to Heichi’s words, the Dragon Tongue was not the core; it was merely a tool to gather energy. The true purpose of this ritual was to accumulate sufficient energy to construct a palace awaiting the arrival of a ‘seed.’

Both Heichi and Xing Zhi’s explanations held merit. As the one bearing it, Pei Ye could sense the light cocoon possessing both functions simultaneously.

But which was primary, which secondary? Which was the core purpose, which merely incidental?

On the other side, Xing Zhi said: “In summary, Pei Shaoyou’s threat level is low. If Master Jing still cannot rest easy, I’ll have Shang Lang stay behind to watch over him. Pei Shaoyou has no True Qi yet; taking him into the mountains would be too dangerous.”

Jing Ziwang frowned, hesitating.

Pei Ye said: “Into the mountains?”

“Yes,” Xing Zhi smiled faintly at him. “We came here because we have an urgent matter to attend to in Xin Cang Mountain. We happened upon the Candle World Sect’s disturbances and suspected their scheme was connected to our mission, so we took over this case from your prefectural government.”

“Hmm…” Pei Ye’s thoughts raced. “I’ll go with you into the mountains.”

Staying at home was safe, but without finding the Candle World Sect, he could not replenish the seed in his dantian. Since they were involved, whether Jing Ziwang wanted to take him or not, he would find a way to join them anyway.

The greatest lesson this misfortune taught Pei Ye was: without insight, there can be no response.

Xing Zhi frowned: “You must know, when we’re on official business, we may not have the capacity to watch over you…”

“Don’t worry—” Pei Ye and Jing Ziwang spoke simultaneously.

Pei Ye looked over; Jing Ziwang glanced at him and said: “If I’m taking him into the mountains, I’ll make sure he dies behind me.”

Xing Zhi nodded slowly: “Then I have no objection. But whether he can ultimately come depends on Brother Zhu’s decision…”

Jing Ziwang said: “Naturally. Everything rests with Master Zhu’s judgment—no second thoughts.”

Xing Zhi nodded, then turned to Pei Ye with a gentle tone: “Then let’s discuss the second matter—you haven’t shattered your seed, so naturally you haven’t learned how to control True Qi, correct?”

“Correct.”

“This is my second inference—you can manipulate this energy as freely as you would True Qi. Its infiltration into your arm is merely instinctive, like birds building nests or spiders weaving webs under eaves—it won’t harm you. You can accelerate or halt this process by controlling it.”

Pei Ye held his arm before his eyes and said earnestly: “Please instruct me.”

“This is a universal method—nothing special. Just the four words: ‘Mind arrives, Qi follows.’ But since you’ve never touched True Qi, you can’t feel it yet. Let Shang Lang inject True Qi into you. Though you can’t directly control it, you can carefully sense and familiarize yourself with it, then transfer that sensation to the blue energy—Shang Lang.”

The young man had already risen from his seat and stood waiting nearby. Now he said: “Brother Pei, this will take some time. Let’s find a quiet place.”

Pei Ye nodded and followed Shang Lang to a side chamber.

Shang Lang looked slightly older than Pei Ye, but only by a little—perhaps nineteen or twenty. He was handsome and sharp-eyed, giving Pei Ye the impression of Cheng Feng grown up.

His manner lacked the refined decorum of the officials from the prefecture; he was casual, even crude. Yet aristocratic grace leaked from every detail.

“Brother Pei, I’ll inject True Qi into your dantian. Just observe carefully.”

“Won’t it all be swallowed by the cocoon?”

“No problem,” Shang Lang smiled, placing his hand on Pei Ye’s wrist. A refined stream flowed into his dantian—and was indeed consumed. Yet during this process, Pei Ye did feel a distinct Qi sensation. When he instinctively tried to direct it, he remembered it was someone else’s True Qi, so he shifted his focus toward the light cocoon.

“Don’t take it so seriously,” Shang Lang laughed heartily. “I’ll pour in half an hour’s worth first. Once your body grows accustomed to the sensation, then focus on it. Trying to grasp it now is useless—even a newly shattered-seed cultivator doesn’t achieve this speed.”

“Half an hour?” Pei Ye was startled. When Lin Lin once warmed his heart meridians, each session lasted no more than half an hour—and even then, split into two fifteen-minute segments with an hour’s rest in between. “Brother Shang, may I ask boldly—what realm are you in?”

“No ‘brother’ or ‘lord’—we’re peers, call each other brother. I’m Seventh Life. Same as the beast you killed.” Shang Lang’s phoenix eyes regarded him, his free hand raising a thumb to judge the youth’s feat: “Man.”

Pei Ye had no reply.

Out of respect for that realm, even though Pei Ye felt he had almost grasped the sensation, he followed suit quietly, letting the True Qi flow endlessly into his dantian. Beneath the stream, the light cluster gradually grew denser.