Chapter 94: The Way of Utmost Sincerity Allows Foreknowledge

The next day, at dawn.

Zhang Fan woke from sleep, slowly opening his eyes; muffled quarrels from downstairs drifted into his ears, accompanied by rapid breathing.

“The bigger the pipe, the more water flows; if your pipe is too small, don’t blame others for having no water.”

A plaintive woman’s voice rose, followed by a silence broken only by hurried breaths.

After consuming the Fiend God, Zhang Fan’s Nascent Soul had grown far stronger than before, his six senses sharper—even the private words of a married couple behind closed doors were crystal clear to him.

“The Nascent Soul is truly wondrous.”

Zhang Fan sensed the changes within him; with his Nascent Soul strengthened, his physical body revealed countless subtleties, his True Yang thicker and more intense, and countless new knowledge, experiences, and Dao techniques emerged in his mind.

“The Divine Splitting Art is indeed exquisite.”

Now, fragments of memory had surfaced in Zhang Fan’s mind, and he understood why his Nascent Soul was so unusual—it was because he had cultivated the Divine Splitting Art.

It could cause such profound transformation in a human Nascent Soul, splitting one into three, evading calamity and transcending tribulations—truly a marvel of stealing heaven’s secrets.

Unfortunately, the Divine Splitting Art, which splits one into three, hinges crucially on that [Evil God].

Most of Zhang Fan’s Nascent Soul’s power and key memories were sealed within the [Evil God].

“There are still things I don’t understand,” Zhang Fan sighed.

Though he had reclaimed the Fiend God, what he gained were merely knowledge, experience, and strength; to know everything, he must either recover the [Evil God] or wait for Zhang Lingzong’s return and ask him everything.

With the [Evil God] now missing, there was only…

“Mother’s anniversary is coming soon. Father should return by then,” Zhang Fan muttered to himself.

For now, all Zhang Fan could do was clear his mind of distractions and strive in cultivation.

After reclaiming the Fiend God, his mind had gained numerous Dao techniques and marvels—he could try them out.

Besides that, Zhang Fan always felt a great danger awaited him just ahead.

Perhaps that would be his greatest tribulation in this life.

What he needed now was power—and time.

“Cultivation is a thousand-year endeavor; time waits for no one.”

Zhang Fan leapt up, rose from bed, and stepped outside; as he left the compound, he glanced at the security booth—Liu Shu wasn’t on duty today.

At Taoyuan Square, just as he entered the elevator, Zhang Fan received a SuperMessage; he opened it to find a single photo sent by Uncle Sanqi…

It showed Xiong Sanqi at the high-speed rail station, backpack on his back, making a sword gesture, his rugged face smiling.

“Uncle Sanqi, you’re leaving?” Zhang Fan blinked, quickly asking.

“Already on the train. Don’t worry.”

A beep sounded—Xiong Sanqi’s reply arrived.

“Left so suddenly… I didn’t even get to see you off…”

Zhang Fan felt guilty; without Xiong Sanqi guarding him, he might not have reclaimed the Fiend God or escaped the Xiong family unscathed.

“Yujing City is full of dragons and snakes; I’ve too many enemies here. Staying isn’t wise,” came Xiong Sanqi’s next reply.

“Take care of yourself. Remember, beyond the sky lies higher sky, beyond people lie greater people…”

“Yujing City… the waters run deep.”

The final words were clearly a warning: though he had reclaimed the Fiend God, his power was still shallow; before his divine arts reached full maturity, he must never flaunt himself.

In truth, Zhang Fan’s identity was even more sensitive than Xiong Sanqi’s.

“I understand, Uncle.”

After replying, Zhang Fan arrived at Yebuliang; as he stepped inside, he saw Jiang Hu’s seat empty and froze, slapping his forehead as if remembering something.

“Damn it!”

“What’s wrong, Fanfan?”

At that moment, Wen He approached, wearing high heels, her face lit with a concerned smile.

“Did… did Jiang Hu come?”

“No, didn’t he go with you to deliver the goods yesterday?” Wen He asked gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh… I’ll call him.”

Zhang Fan smiled awkwardly, walked to his desk, and immediately dialed Jiang Hu’s phone.

“Sorry, the number you dialed is currently unreachable…”

After a series of busy tones, Zhang Fan was utterly stunned.

He then called Xiong Ba’s phone and explained the situation.

“Someone came with you yesterday?”

“I’ll have someone check.”

“Found him—he’s locked in the cellar. We thought he was one of our own, so the elders suppressed him.”

“Too much happened yesterday… we forgot about him.”

“Your friend too—he was gagged and didn’t say a word.”

…

Once clarified, the Xiong family naturally released him.

“Fanfan, what happened to Jiang Hu?”

“N-nothing—I’m taking him half a day off,” Zhang Fan muttered awkwardly.

He’d forgotten something yesterday, that’s all.

After placating Wen He, Zhang Fan exhaled slightly, opened his computer, and unconsciously glanced at Bai Buran’s office—its door was tightly shut—then opened his little yellow book and navigated to the homepage of [Thousand-Year Demon].

The avatar was still gray.

The chat was still blocked.

“Old thief, updated again… you update fast, but who are you trying to outwork?”

Zhang Fan sneered and opened the latest post on the [Thousand-Year Demon] homepage.

“Cultivating Nature and Life: The Ultimate Flavor of the Human Realm Is the Nascent Soul!”

“Hm!?”

Zhang Fan’s eyebrows lifted at the title; he focused intently on reading.

For thousands of years, Daoist sects have transmitted teachings, each with its own strengths.

During the Song-Yuan era, the imperial court forcibly unified all Daoist sects into two branches: [Quanzhen] and [Zhengyi].

Hence, even today, Quanzhen and Zhengyi remain the most renowned and powerful factions in Daoism.

Zhengyi originated from the Zhang family of Longhu; no need to elaborate here.

Quanzhen means fully realizing the primordial nature of life and spirit: “nature” refers to mind and Nascent Soul, while “life” refers to the physical body or primordial Qi.

In plain terms: Nascent Soul and physical body.

Quanzhen splits into Southern and Northern Schools; both advocate “cultivating nature and life together,” differing only in cultivation sequence.

The Southern School advocates “cultivating life first, then nature”; the Northern School advocates “cultivating nature first, then life.”

Wang Chongyang, the legendary [Middle Divine] of martial arts novels, was historically the Southern School’s representative.

He emphasized cultivating nature to govern life, saying, “The original true nature is called the Golden Elixir; the four false elements are the furnace that forge it into a ball”—meaning only the Nascent Soul is true nature, while the physical body’s four elements are mere illusions.

“If the Nascent Soul is perfected, life cultivation is complete,” Zhang Fan mused.

The Nascent Soul is born before heaven and earth, holding the universe’s secrets, nearly identical to the Dao.

If one could glimpse its mysteries, both physical body and divine arts could be mastered effortlessly, achieved in a single step.

Legend says the Ming dynasty Confucian scholar Wang Yangming, upon enlightenment at Longchang, perceived his true nature and became a sage in one step.

The highest realm of Confucianism is the [Way of Utmost Sincerity].

“The Way of Utmost Sincerity allows foreknowledge”—once attained, one perceives the past, observes the future, comprehends the transformations of heaven and earth, and discerns the subtleties of yin and yang.

What is the Way of Utmost Sincerity? Not honesty or trustworthiness.

“Utmost Sincerity” means absolute truth—Confucians say, “Utmost Sincerity knows no cessation, Utmost Sincerity knows no spirit”—it means perceiving the true nature of one’s essence, where every breath and thought arises naturally, without effort, akin to Daoism’s “Dao follows nature.” Once attained, the Nascent Soul activates spontaneously; all actions align perfectly with the Dao.

At that point, all divine arts manifest naturally.

For example, in Buddhism, once one comprehends true nature and observes only the Nascent Soul, at a certain level, the body spontaneously develops five divine powers: divine foot, mind-reading, and so on.

“The Nascent Soul is the root,” Zhang Fan mused.

Some cultivate only life cultivation, neglecting nature cultivation; their bodies grow strong, their True Yang abundant, their techniques mastered—but these are like flowers in a mirror, castles in the air; when tribulation strikes, collapse comes in an instant.

Like Jiang Hu once was—his talisman arts surged forward, his power growing daily, yet he was betrayed by Wu Ma, his Dao heart shattered, nearly falling into Great Darkness.

His former cultivation and skill were lost in a single day.

“Among all internal alchemy methods, the supreme technique for refining the spirit is the [Divine Demon Holy Embryo].”

At this, Zhang Fan’s eyes lit up; he read on.

“Yet this method exists only in legend; those who attempt it are either madmen, fools, or simpletons, and thus not worth discussing.”

“….”

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“The Nascent Soul conceals all wonders, hides the principles of the Great Dao… Thus, throughout history, a group of people have regarded it as the secret to immortality, harvesting and refining it, reversing the Nine True.”

“These people span the long river of Daoist history, hidden beneath waves, rising and falling.”

“The Wuwei Sect!”

Zhang Fan’s gaze sharpened, lost in thought.

Since descending from Zhenwu Mountain, he had encountered the Wuwei Sect twice—whether [Hai Zhu] Wang Tao or [Wu Ma] Wu Qilu, all were cunning manipulators who toyed with human hearts.

There is a theory about the origins of the Wuwei Gate...

Zhang Fan cast his gaze downward and became intrigued, but the next passage left him stunned.

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I fucking...

Zhang Fan rolled his eyes, flipped his hand to report the page, then closed it.

"Absorbing the Nascent Soul as medicine... Wuwei Gate... the Thirteen Zodiacs..."

Zhang Fan sat alone at his workstation, vaguely recalling the visions he’d seen when consuming the Fierce Deity—that night, there had also been masters of the Thirteen Zodiacs present...

Perhaps that person knew Zhang Fan.

"The Wuwei Gate people are all scum."

Zhang Fan muttered silently to himself, increasingly sensing the urgency of his cultivation.

Now, his Nascent Soul had grown more than several times stronger than before; he could finally attempt some unusual Dao techniques. Only then would he have the means to protect himself should he encounter masters—especially Wuwei Gate masters—in the future.

Evening, Fangshan.

Along the long, dark mountain path, not a single lamp glowed; under the bright moonlight, two figures walked alone through the mountains—it was Xiong Qianxing and Ming Chenxuan.

"Young Master Xiong, I heard that Xiong Ba is favored by your family’s Ancestor."

The news of Xiong Ba entering the Ancestral Hall had spread quickly; the Gu and Ming families had already heard the rumors.

"Shut up."

Hearing Xiong Ba’s name, Xiong Qianxing grew irritable.

"That brat was always useless—how did he suddenly rise up? Could someone be guiding him behind the scenes?" Ming Chenxuan asked cautiously.

"Guided by a master!?"

Xiong Qianxing’s expression darkened further; Zhang Fan’s figure surfaced in his mind.

It was all because of him. Without Zhang Fan, how could that useless Xiong Ba ever have risen above him?

Xiong Qianxing had long carried a fire within him—a fire of hatred.

But Xiong Qianshan’s words echoed in his mind just in time, extinguishing that flame.

"Foolish brother, do you know how that boy crippled Xiong Qianqiu?"

"I don’t know."

"Soul Binding!"

Those two simple words leapt from Xiong Qianshan’s mouth, heavy with unspeakable gravity.

"Soul Binding!? I’ve never heard of it!"

"It is an extremely ancient Dao technique, capable of forcibly seizing a Daoist’s Nascent Soul with mere flesh and blood..."

"So brutal?"

Xiong Qianshan said gravely: "This technique was once known only to a select few—they seized Nascent Souls to..."

Here, Xiong Qianshan paused slightly, as if deeply fearful.

"What?"

"Devour?"

"What? Then he’s a Wuwei demon!" Xiong Qianxing’s face turned pale.

"So that Zhang Fan is from the Wuwei..."

"Don’t speak recklessly," Xiong Qianshan snapped.

"Brother, if that boy truly belongs to the Wuwei Gate, we should report him to the Dao Alliance... he’ll be finished!" Xiong Qianxing snarled.

"You’re asking for death," Xiong Qianshan glared fiercely.

"You have no direct proof he’s a Wuwei demon. Even if you did, killing him would only make the Wuwei Gate retaliate even harder against the Xiong family."

"It would bring total annihilation. Not to mention that boy has Xiong Sanqi behind him—a lawless brute."

"The Yin Mountain Ghost King broke his vow and stormed the Xiong family just to protect him—his importance is clear."

"If you dare report him, no one in heaven or earth can save you."

Xiong Qianshan spoke slowly, each word ringing with finality. Xiong Qianxing’s spine turned cold; he dared not entertain another thought.

"Forget it. Just stay far away from him," Xiong Qianxing said helplessly.

"Young Master Xiong, what’s wrong with you? You’ve lost all your spirit," Ming Chenxuan blinked, bewildered—he had no idea what had happened to Xiong Qianxing, why he’d changed overnight, utterly stripped of his former sharpness.

"You’ve experienced too little," Xiong Qianxing said, voice weary as if he’d lived a thousand years.

Ming Chenxuan stared blankly, as if he no longer recognized the young master before him.

"A true man’s ambition lies beyond the horizon—not just within the Xiong family," Xiong Qianxing shifted tone, straightening his back.

"I’ve heard from elders in our clan that lately, the Wuwei demons are showing signs of revival. If we cultivate diligently and slay these demons, we might still achieve greatness."

Xiong Qianxing seemed to have found a new purpose, his spirit soaring with boldness.

"Excellent! Slaying Wuwei demons—truly heroic!"

At that moment, a voice of approval came from nearby.

Along the long, dark path, a man and woman approached. The man wore casual short sleeves and sneakers, with a feather tattoo on his wrist; the woman was delicate and alluring, with bell earrings dangling from her earlobes, each step producing a tinkling sound.

"Huh!? Who are you two?"

Zzzz...

Before he finished speaking, a gale howled—and the man and woman were already before them, moving with ghostly speed.

"You—"

Xiong Qianxing’s face turned ashen; before he could react, Ming Chenxuan let out a piercing scream.

He looked down—the woman’s slender palm rested atop his skull, gently stroking, and pulled out Xiong Qianxing’s Nascent Soul.

"This... you’re..."

Xiong Qianxing’s Nascent Soul shrieked in terror, writhing desperately, yet unable to escape the woman’s grip.

"Truly exquisite human fare."

The man and woman exchanged glances, staring at the captured Nascent Soul in their palms, licking their lips greedily—then they opened their mouths and devoured it...

Strange chewing sounds echoed through the eerie moonlight!!

(End of Chapter)