Chapter 84: Heaven and Earth Seizing Fortune (5k Chapter)

Late at night, in the southern district of Yujing City.

In front of a private club’s grand gate, a fountain centered on a six-petaled lotus floated with lotus leaves.

Flanking the gate were not ordinary stone lions, but two white horses.

Inside a quiet, elegant private room, a luxurious crystal chandelier hung above a simple lotus lantern, its candle flame glowing.

At this moment, Xiong Qianxing lay sprawled across a large round table, with eight skulls arranged around him in different directions, each forehead connected by a filament to a tiny flame the size of a green bean.

The eight skulls seemed to bite into Xiong Qianxing, continuously drawing out the yin winds and turbid qi from his body, transforming them into the oil for those flames.

“Big Brother Shan, is this enough?” Ming Chenxuan asked, looking toward the man seated at the far end of the sofa.

“The Eight Ghosts Disrupting Qi Technique is a secret art passed down by the Xiong family—handling [Inflowing Yin Wind] is child’s play.”

Before Xiong Qianshan could speak, a man beside him, holding a stemmed glass and swirling its crystal-clear wine, spoke up.

As he spoke, Gu Chuanfeng picked up another cup from the table and walked over to Xiong Qianshan, offering it respectfully.

Since ancient times, the Yin Mountain Sect has been one of the most mysterious branches within the Daoist sects.

Renowned for their yin cultivation methods, they are both enigmatic and powerful, with thriving worship; alone in Yujing City, they maintain three branches.

Among them, the Xiong family is the largest, while the Ming and Gu families both look up to them.

The [Eight Ghosts Disrupting Qi Technique] is a common yet highly practical art within the Yin Mountain Sect.

In the past, some villages engaged in violent feuds that claimed lives and alarmed local officials; eventually, elders from certain villages summoned Daoists from the Yin Mountain Sect to perform this [Eight Ghosts Disrupting Qi Technique]. By burying eight skulls at specific directions beneath the enemy’s ancestral graves, once the technique was complete, results appeared within three to five years: the target family would suffer bloodshed, decline in lineage, wealth would stay away, and some would even lose their bloodline entirely, unable to continue their ancestral rites.

“Young Master Shan, who is this enemy? How dare they strike at the Xiong family within Yujing City?” Gu Chuanfeng asked, noticing Xiong Qianshan had not taken the cup.

“Lingxu Painting Talismans… to master this alone proves he is no ordinary man.”

In the world of talisman arts, only three mountains hold sway; yet even among the talisman lineages of those three, someone so young mastering the Lingxu Painting Technique is as rare as phoenix feathers or unicorn horns.

“Could that girl from the Ming family have found such a master? Is she targeting all three of our families?” Gu Chuanfeng blurted out.

“You’re overthinking.” Xiong Qianshan remained calm, shaking his head softly.

A family that endures through generations, with unbroken ancestral worship, relies on talent, fortune, and ceaseless vitality…

Has anyone ever seen a single person destroy an entire clan overnight?

Not to mention, the Yin Mountain lineage specializes in cultivating yin and gathering qi, manipulating life, death, fortune, and misfortune.

Even the [Dao Secret Record] given to Zhang Fan by Xia Weisheng records legends of this lineage.

Years ago, the southern outskirts of Yujing City were still a village; an old man there lived to over ninety. When asked his secret to longevity, he said that as a youth, he had encountered a Daoist hidden deep in the mountains, and after stealing half a flask of his wine, the Daoist taught him a method to escape the cycle of life and death.

When pressed further, the old man refused to speak.

One day, a child from the village sneaked out at night to play and saw light still glowing in the old man’s courtyard. He crept closer—and turned pale with terror.

In the courtyard stood row upon row of banquet tables, each seat empty, only offering tablets without names.

At the very top stood a redwood coffin, before it a perpetual lamp, and inside lay none other than the old man himself.

The child fainted from fright; in the late night, he half-woke, seeing shadowy figures moving in the courtyard, clinking cups and laughing merrily.

Later, the story spread, and some claimed the old man’s longevity secret was a ghost banquet.

When a ghost banquet is opened, hundreds of ghosts gather to ignite the perpetual lamp; beside the red coffin, a man enters it, refusing burial. As long as he waits until dawn, when the ghosts vanish and the lamp extinguishes, his lifespan increases by one year.

This was a method to evade the ghostly officials sent to claim souls—but it was extremely sinister. Descendants of the practitioner would suffer poverty, sons becoming thieves, daughters becoming prostitutes, and after death, the practitioner could not enter reincarnation, doomed to suffer in hell.

Such a method of [Hundred Ghosts Cultivating Lamp] originated from the Yin Mountain Sect.

“Cultivating yin into art, escaping death, seizing life, seeking fortune and avoiding misfortune… this is our sect’s core strength,” Xiong Qianshan said coldly.

Moreover, ten years ago, the Xiong family struck great fortune: they sealed away a fearsome god, using a transportation technique to borrow the momentum of great prosperity, dominating Yujing for a decade without decline.

“Fearsome god…”

At the mention of this past, Ming Chenxuan and Gu Chuanfeng exchanged glances.

To call a ghost a god reveals how monstrous it was—truly unparalleled in the world.

To this day, neither the Ming nor the Gu families know the true origin of that fearsome ghost.

The Yin Mountain Sect, experts in cultivating yin and manipulating ghosts, had no idea what smoke rose from their ancestral graves ten years ago—but they captured this fearsome ghost, imprisoning it beneath their ancestral hall and performing the transportation technique.

A decade of momentum elevated the Xiong family to fame, dominating Yujing and becoming a first-tier clan.

Prosperity and decline are dictated by Heaven’s decree, not human will.

Now that fortune favors the Xiong family, Xiong Qianshan has no fear—but as a scion of a great clan with high cultivation, he is not so arrogant as to dismiss a master of Lingxu Painting Talismans.

Moreover…

“His method of reversing the yin wind is even more profound…”

Xiong Qianshan’s cultivation far surpasses his younger brother Xiong Qianxing; from Ming Chenxuan’s fragmented words alone, he discerned Zhang Fan’s terrifying nature.

“Reversing the yin wind… if one uses pure yang to forcibly restrain that turbid qi, it might still be possible,” Gu Chuanfeng ventured.

If it were him, his overwhelming pure yang could also restrain the yin turbid qi within Xiong Qianxing.

“A hair’s breadth off, and the result is a thousand miles wrong,” Xiong Qianshan shook his head.

“In Daoist arts, there exists a method that reverses the flow of essence and qi, swapping the positions of Kan and Li, like the Yellow River flowing backward.”

“This technique is called Reversing the Yellow River.”

Xiong Qianshan, as a scion of a great house and true heir to the Yin Mountain lineage, naturally possessed insight beyond ordinary men.

“Reversing the Yellow River floods the cauldron; true fire forges the flower of immortality… the internal elixir method this man cultivates must be the Reverse Immortal Path.” Xiong Qianshan instantly pierced through Zhang Fan’s true nature.

The Southern and Northern School Origins Method ranks among the pinnacle techniques among the many internal elixir methods of Zhenwu Mountain.

Taking Kan to fill Li, reversing the path to immortality.

“The Reverse Immortal Path must be orthodox Daoist… could he be from one of the Ten Famous Mountains?” Gu Chuanfeng blurted out.

Logically, the Ten Famous Daoist Mountains are the current leaders of the Daoist world; their direct disciples would never lightly descend into this filthy mortal realm.

Without sufficient Dao heart, entering the mortal world risks stirring the spirit-mind into chaos, plunging one into eternal darkness and losing all prior cultivation.

“Not necessarily,” Xiong Qianshan shook his head.

Daoist lineages have endured for a thousand years, with countless sects and methods.

Though the Ten Famous Mountains represent orthodox excellence, they do not encompass all Daoist lineages.

“For example, the Divine Demon Holy Embryo… this method is famed as the most fearsome in the world, yet it belongs to none of the Ten Famous Mountains,” Xiong Qianshan said gravely.

Since childhood, he had heard the most warnings about this method; his elders spoke its name as if they had witnessed it firsthand, trembling with dread.

Yet, as far as he knew, anyone who cultivates the Divine Demon Holy Embryo must confront the calamity of Eternal Darkness.

What mortal could possibly cultivate such a brutal method?

“The Divine Demon Holy Embryo is merely a name—it cannot be cultivated,” Gu Chuanfeng shook his head.

If the Southern and Northern School Origins Method is top-tier, then the Divine Demon Holy Embryo belongs to the legendary tier of internal elixir methods.

These legendary methods carry immense renown, yet exist only in myth—no one in the vast heavens and earth has ever succeeded in cultivating them.

“Not necessarily…”

At that moment, Xiong Qianshan suddenly spoke.

“I heard that the Baihe Guan in Shangjing has a legendary internal elixir method—one already successfully cultivated.”

“Who?”

Ming Chenxuan and Gu Chuanfeng asked simultaneously.

“His name is Li Changgeng… he’s younger than me, barely in his twenties, yet his divine skill is unfathomable,” Xiong Qianshan’s voice grew solemn.

Elders of his clan say that among the younger generation, no one can rival Li Changgeng.

He is almost universally acknowledged as the top young talent of his generation.

Some even say his brilliance recalls the youth of Chu Chaoran; perhaps in a few years, Baihe Guan will produce a True Person.

A True Person—that is the Pure Yang Ultimate Realm. Such praise is exceedingly high.

“Li Changgeng…”

“Why have I never heard of him?”

Ming Chenxuan and Gu Chuanfeng exchanged glances, both puzzled.

They knew all the famous young masters of major Daoist sects—like Xia Weisheng of Zhenwu Mountain, the Qi brothers Qi Delong and Qi Dongqiang from Laojun Mountain. Li Changgeng, from Baihe Guan, should have been a pure-blooded heir; with such talent, he should already be renowned.

“He’s a treasure—Baihe Guan would never reveal him until his divine powers are fully mature,” Xiong Qianshan sneered.

Talents like Li Changgeng are nurtured as the next generation’s successors; they are kept tightly hidden, accessible only through special channels.

The Xiong family only learned of him last year during the Yujing City Dao Alliance Annual Meeting.

“What method does Li Changgeng cultivate?” Gu Chuanfeng asked eagerly.

If it’s a legendary internal elixir method, it must rival the [Divine Demon Holy Embryo]—a method existing only in myth, impossible for ordinary humans to master.

“This method is called Heaven and Earth Seizing Fortune!” Xiong Qianshan’s eyes gleamed.

The elixir texts say: Heaven has five movements, Earth has six qi; all things are born, creation is completed. Whoever seizes Heaven and Earth’s fortune enters the state of eternal life and deathlessness.

“This is the most tyrannical method in the world!” Xiong Qianshan recalled his clan elders’ assessment of this technique:

Heaven and Earth Seizing Fortune!

A faint echo lingered in the private room; sudden silence seemed to drape the [Heaven and Earth Seizing Fortune Method] in a veil of mystery.

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“Brother, that man…”

At that moment, Xiong Qianxing, lying on the round table, awoke. He opened his mouth and vomited a thick, foul black liquid.

This was the impurity formed after yin wind and turbid qi entered the body.

For an ordinary person, within three months, the body would be ruined—not only would life be in danger, but they’d be bedridden.

Such is the cruelty of Yin Mountain techniques.

“Lingxu Painting Talismans, Reverse Immortal Path… this man likely has a significant background. In Yujing City, the Xiong family is not afraid—but we must not provoke enemies without cause,” Xiong Qianshan said, shaking his head.

Though “a strong dragon doesn’t suppress the earth snake,” Yujing City is clearly the Xiong family’s stronghold, their power too great to fear.

Yet according to Ming Chenxuan’s description, the other party is clearly no ordinary figure; there’s no need to escalate a petty quarrel into open conflict and make unnecessary enemies.

After all, whoever trained such an outstanding young man must themselves be a force not to be underestimated.

“So… am I just letting my severed finger go unavenged?” Xiong Qianxing gritted his teeth, staring at his missing finger, eyes glinting with hatred.

“You were outmatched—that’s your lesson,” Xiong Qianshan said gravely.

“With that man’s methods, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“How many times have I told you? Cultivators must avoid reckless bravado—it’s the spirit-mind stirring. You’ve already broken the precepts by coveting the Ghost Gate Needle; now that you’ve been taught a lesson, do you still harbor resentment?”

Xiong Qianshan shook his head, looking at his unworthy younger brother.

“Your severed finger… I’ll reattach it for you later with the Ghost Bone Method… but both of you will be punished—spend three days in the Ghost Pool.”

At these words, Xiong Qianxing and Ming Chenxuan both paled, especially upon hearing the name “Ghost Pool,” their faces drained of all color.

“Brother…”

“Five days.”

At Xiong Qianshan’s command, the two dared not utter another word.

…

The next day, before dawn, Zhang Fan stepped out of his home and left Hongfu Garden.

Lately, his sleep had grown shorter, especially yesterday—the note’s message kept him awake all night, even the sleeping pill left by Zhang Lingzong failed to help.

“Dark night unlit, the fierce god can be resolved…”

Those eight characters gave Zhang Fan not the slightest clue.

“I hate riddlers the most—damn it!”

Zhang Fan cursed under his breath; with Zhang Lingzong unreachable lately, he felt increasingly agitated.

Since he couldn’t sleep, he might as well take a walk to the East Suburb Cemetery.

His cultivation, the Northern Emperor Method, was inherently a technique for refining yin and summoning wrath, requiring the accumulation of dark yin energy and the forging of the path of killing.

Since Zhang Fan entered the Art Disciple stage, his cultivation had advanced by leaps and bounds—his true yang grew steadily richer, his spirit-soul stronger, and he now bore the sign of “hairs glowing at the brow.”

This marked the peak of the Art Disciple stage; such speed made Zhang Fan himself find it unbelievable—was he truly a cultivation genius, improving even while sleeping!?

Now, all he needed was to master the twelve minor arts to be granted the rank of Dark Master.

The High Master stage was drawing ever closer.

Currently, Zhang Fan had mastered “Tianpeng Fang” from the Northern Emperor Method; after returning from the Shen family of Zijin Mountain, he had also awakened “Break-Mountain Prison-Sealing Talisman”—a technique suddenly appearing in his mind, another art.

Moreover, after his clash with Cao Wushang of Baihe Temple, he had inexplicably grasped the other’s art: “Great Doctrine Law, Form United, Spirit Divided…”

As to why he could comprehend this art, Zhang Fan had no idea.

That day, he had used this method to enter Jiang Hu’s spirit-soul inner landscape and pulled himself back from the brink of the Dark Night Unlit calamity.

Thus, in barely a month since entering the Art Disciple stage, Zhang Fan had mastered three arts—all immensely powerful, forbidden secrets.

Of course, the one he’d devoted the most effort to was the Northern Emperor Method.

This method was hailed as Daoism’s foremost killing art; if perfected, its divine might would rival Xia Weisheng’s Five Thunder Orthodoxy.

Zhang Fan naturally had to put in extra effort.

…

The East Suburb Cemetery was usually deserted even in daylight, let alone now, before dawn, with not even a ghostly shadow in sight.

“Tianpeng, Tianpeng, Nine Yuan’s Wrathful Child.”

“Five Ding’s Command, High and Fierce Northern Elder.”

…

Zhang Fan arrived at the cemetery’s center, sat cross-legged, and chanted the Tianpeng Divine Incantation—the foundation of the Northern Emperor Method. Reciting these words allowed him to borrow the might of General Tianpeng to subdue demons, dispel evil and monsters, purge filth and poison, and maintain purity and solemnity.

By chanting the incantation, refining yin into wrath, forming the Spirit-Transformation Seal, and visualizing the true form of General Tianpeng, he could manifest wondrous phenomena, ultimately transforming into General Tianpeng himself, unleashing vast divine power.

Now, Zhang Fan had only mastered “Tianpeng Fang”; other arts remained—“Three Fiend Skulls,” “Six Spirit Arms,” “Tianpeng Seal,” “Tianpeng Ruler,” “Tianpeng Bell,” and more.

Each mastered art manifested a corresponding divine form; once all were complete, the full image of General Tianpeng would appear, subduing all demons and terrifying all spirits.

Hum…

Zhang Fan activated the method, gathering dark yin energy, refining it with his internal true yang—yin and yang fused, instantly forming wrath. The phantom of Tianpeng Fang appeared on his shoulder, fangs gleaming, ferocious beyond measure.

At this point, the power of this art in his hands was no longer what it once was.

“Hm!?”

At that moment, Zhang Fan halted his cultivation and slowly opened his eyes—he noticed a faint wisp of yin energy still flowing away from the surrounding five-li radius.

“Someone else is gathering dark yin energy?”

Zhang Fan pondered—few Daoist sects excelled in gathering and refining yin.

Immediately, he used his spirit-soul to observe, following that wisp of yin.

In a corner of the cemetery, a boy sat cross-legged, surrounded by white candles, with a single red candle burning before him. His hands formed a seal, lips moving silently as scattered yin energy converged toward his third eye.

“Dark Yin Illuminating Spirit Method!?” Zhang Fan, watching the flickering candlelight, recognized it instantly.

He had seen it in the Dao Secret Records—it was the Yin Mountain Sect’s method for cultivating the spirit-soul, gathering dark yin energy, reversing extreme yin to generate true yang, and refining the spirit-soul within absolute darkness.

The red candle represented the cultivator’s spirit-soul.

“Is this kid from Yin Mountain Sect?” Zhang Fan observed silently.

The boy trembled all over, tears glistening in his eyes; his murmured words were not Daoist incantations, but…

“I’m not afraid… I’m not afraid—if I’m not afraid, nothing can frighten me…” Xiong Ba declared with fierce determination.

Since his master, Gu Yuming, lost a battle and his body was shattered by a short-haired girl, he had become a vegetable.

At that moment, Xiong Ba knew he had to grow up—only by facing his fears could he honor his master’s endless expectations, never to awaken again.

“I… I can do this… There… there are no ghosts in this world…”

Xiong Ba chanted these affirmations like a madman, giving himself psychological reassurance, yet a single tear slipped from his eye—whether from self-pity or sheer terror, he couldn’t tell.

“What… what the hell is this!?”

Far away, Zhang Fan stared at the scene before him, his expression turning peculiar.

(End of Chapter)