Chapter 50

The path of cultivation does have its moments of color. For instance, Bao Yun refused to accept her previous defeat and challenged the Zhigu Sect to another bout. This time, Wei Yuan also began forging his body, finally able to hold his own in battle.

None of the students would yield to another, so the only commands Bao Yun and Cui Yu could give were roughly “Charge!” Even though Dingxin Sect was just as disorganized, the fight quickly devolved into a free-for-all.

Wei Yuan realized that chaotic brawling was nothing like the martial assessment—every move felt awkward. When he tried to swing a punch, one of his own men would block his path; when he tried to dodge, someone would step on his foot. In short, everything went wrong, and he was constantly betrayed by his allies.

As the saying goes: when one side is in trouble, eight sides add to the chaos.

Thus, Wei Yuan was surrounded and beaten black and blue.

Yet after forging his body, Wei Yuan’s physique had grown far sturdier. Even after being pinned and pounded by a dozen men for a long while, he suffered no broken bones or torn sinews—not even serious skin wounds. The ones who beat him, however, were thoroughly exhausted. Still, after the fight, his body was covered in bruises, making his appearance less than dignified.

After these two fights, all students attending the concentrated instruction were branded as Dingxin Sect members, and their enmity with Zhigu Sect students became irreconcilable. Within months, Bao Yun and Cui Yu launched another revenge battle. Given Wei Yuan’s previous performance of holding off over a dozen opponents, he was unanimously chosen to face them alone.

At this point, most students had completed muscle forging and entered Blood Refinement; a few had even begun Bone Refinement. Thus, their physical strength had surged dramatically—leaping dozens of zhang, shattering rocks with a punch—all commonplace. Disciples of Taichu Palace were a gathering of geniuses, each naturally possessing unique abilities. When they channeled power, colorful ribbons and rainbow lights trailed around them. Whether their combat power was impressive or not, their aura had to be maximized.

So the students fought in midair, diving through earth, glowing with radiant light, with divine beasts and immortal demons appearing everywhere. Even during the Three Immortals’ conquest of Yunzhou, it had never been this extravagant.

But no matter how ethereal and dazzling the battle began, it inevitably devolved into hand-to-hand chaos—each side intermingled with the other, and Wei Yuan found teammates appearing beside him.

Then Wei Yuan was black and blue again.

Fortunately, he consumed three Peiyuan Pills daily. Compared to last time, his skin had grown thicker and tougher; punches and kicks landing on him were no longer unbearable. These duels were considered sparring, so neither side used weapons or others’ magic treasures—otherwise, if someone pulled out a magic sword and stabbed Wei Yuan, he wouldn’t survive. Wei Yuan also realized that as long as no weapons were involved, even Bone Refinement practitioners striking him didn’t hurt much.

Of course, Wei Yuan knew his limits—he understood this was reality, not the illusion of the martial assessment, and he didn’t dare use the Heaven’s Wild Disciple technique.

After the fight, Bao Yun nearly wept at the sight of Wei Yuan’s condition. But in this battle, Wei Yuan alone held off over twenty opponents, allowing Cui Yu and Bao Yun to crush the enemy elsewhere and ultimately win the fight. This was Dingxin Sect’s first victory, and everyone was elated—except Wei Yuan.

Afterwards, Bao Yun felt guilty and sought out Wei Yuan, soothing him gently for a long while, then privately shoved ten thousand silver taels into his hands. Wei Yuan stubbornly refused, but Bao Yun insisted it was a loan, not a gift, citing fellow sect members’ bonds, hometown ties, and finally invoking Zhang Sheng’s name—only then did Wei Yuan reluctantly accept. In terms of cultivation level, Wei Yuan truly was dragging the entire class behind him.

At this point, the class’s public account of one hundred thousand silver taels had been nearly exhausted, and the results were clear: with sufficient resources and elixirs, most Dingxin Sect students had far surpassed expectations, their average progress now leaving Zhigu Sect far behind.

After over a year of living together, Wei Yuan now had a more concrete understanding of the power of aristocratic clans—he no longer held the absurd notion that Bao Yun handing out tens of thousands of silver taels would affect her lifestyle.

Having accepted Bao Yun’s ten thousand silver taels, Wei Yuan’s personal debts now exceeded thirty thousand silver taels. Of these, six thousand were for course-related resources, and fifteen thousand were borrowed from the public account. Ever since his debt surpassed one thousand silver taels, his mindset had subtly shifted—the money owed felt like nothing more than a number; he no longer lay awake anxious, and borrowing now came with calm confidence.

After winning this fight, Dingxin Sect’s morale soared. Within days, Cui Yu announced he would personally add fifty thousand silver taels to the public account; Bao Yun followed with another fifty thousand; Xiang Xiaoyu added another fifty thousand. All students’ morale reached unprecedented heights—except Wei Yuan’s.

Wei Yuan absorbed the moon’s radiance.

Days always pass, and before one realizes it, the third year has arrived.

According to the teacher of Celestial Theory, this year an invisible great star would shift between three other invisible great stars, portending disaster and upheaval. As for how this teacher knew how an invisible star moved, he lectured for three full classes, listing countless Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, drawing endless shapes that weren’t quite circles—Wei Yuan understood nothing, and neither did anyone else in class.

The teacher of Qi Destiny said the great cosmic currents had stirred slightly, that fortune had reached its peak and begun to decline, the state’s fate was in turmoil, and human fortunes would rise and fall violently. He too listed countless Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches—no one understood.

Master Li Liuli, the senior sister of Dao Foundation Theory, said this year those who achieved Dao Foundation would gain extra martial advantages. The students were thrilled and voluntarily trained harder after class.

Finally, the Art Theory teacher changed. He no longer spoke of elixirs or artifacts, but instead lectured extensively on shamanic divination, incantations, and poison arts. The number of students who fell into meditation during class dropped sharply; everyone listened with intense focus.

Wei Yuan used his newly learned divination technique to calculate his own fate. The hexagram read: “Loss of wealth.”

Wei Yuan felt he hadn’t properly learned Art Theory.

Still, for safety’s sake, he decided he should find Xu Henshui from the Eastern Sea when he had time, rekindle their old acquaintance, and become friends. After all, they were fellow townsfolk.

In short, the twelfth year of the Da Tang Longwu era was destined to be a season of turmoil.

Not long after spring began, Wei Yuan sensed an odd atmosphere within the sect.

That day, it was time again for foundational purification. Wei Yuan went as usual to the Administration Hall. As he entered the small courtyard, he saw Senior Sister Li sitting inside, idly playing with a orchid.

The orchid was exquisitely beautiful, radiating spiritual essence and immortal energy. Wei Yuan couldn’t help but stare several times, growing more convinced it was no ordinary plant. But then he noticed a detail—the orchid had no roots. Its stem’s end continuously dissolved into countless glittering star-dust, vanishing into nothingness, breathtakingly beautiful.

How could such an orchid exist in this world?

Before Wei Yuan could marvel further, Ji Liuli snapped: “Hurry up! What are you dawdling for?”

Ji Liuli’s words weren’t meant for Wei Yuan. Only then did he notice another person in the room, busily sorting packets of prepared herbs into corresponding cabinet drawers.

This man, as fluid as water, was dazzlingly radiant. Though Wei Yuan had only seen his profile once before, he recognized him immediately: Xu Henshui.

Now he held a few herbs between his fingers, hesitating, unwilling to place them in the cabinet. Ji Liuli sneered, tracing

(End of chapter)