Chapter 52

Indeed, this has been a season of turmoil.

Zhang Sheng held the jade paper, his expression darkening with each glance; Wei Yuan stood silently beside him, awaiting the storm.

After reading it, Zhang Sheng snorted, slammed the jade paper onto the table, and said, “You don’t even understand your own Dao foundation—why are you studying Yin-Yang Dao foundations? Are you that idle lately?”

“I just thought there might be a slight possibility…”

Zhang Sheng cut in firmly: “There is not the slightest possibility!”

“Then… I’ll return it tomorrow.”

Zhang Sheng’s expression eased slightly. “How many people have been rushing about for you? Do you think the pills you take daily fall from the sky? At this moment, you must also strive—so you don’t make those helping you feel heartbroken!”

Wei Yuan quickly apologized. Zhang Sheng routinely tested his recent studies, found nothing that could stump him, and his expression softened. He left three vials of Peiyuan Pills, then rode his sword away.

After Zhang Sheng left, Wei Yuan broke into a cold sweat, silently thinking how close he had come to disaster. Fortunately, the jade paper he had pulled out today discussed how Yin and Yang energies integrate into the Dao foundation—technically part of the Yin-Yang Dao path. That senior brother had shoved it at him without explanation, and now it had saved his life.

After Zhang Sheng left, Wei Yuan broke into a cold sweat again; his hands trembled as he picked up the jade paper. He was just about to return it to its storage when Zhang Sheng’s voice drifted softly from behind: “What are you nervous about?”

Wei Yuan shuddered violently; the jade paper fell to the ground.

Zhang Sheng stood in the courtyard, his face hidden in the shadow of the tree canopy, expression unreadable.

In a moment of life-or-death desperation, Wei Yuan thought quickly: “I actually didn’t understand some of the lesson, but I was too afraid to ask you. I only wanted to research more texts and figure it out myself.”

“Which parts exactly? Explain them one by one.” Zhang Sheng’s expression softened considerably as he sat beside the table.

Wei Yuan fetched ink and brush, first drawing on paper a shape neither round nor egg-like, then adding two dots inside, as if the egg had twin yolks, and said: “This month, the teacher of the Celestial Theory lecture spoke of an invisible great star entering the space between several large stars. He said though invisible, its path can be calculated—this diagram is his computed trajectory of the star. These two points are said to be crucial, for these reasons…”

Wei Yuan then listed countless numbers and equations—so many that a single page couldn't hold them all. Fortunately, the jade paper could shift its content at will; he wrote seven pages before finishing the basic formulas taught in class.

Though he hadn’t understood them during the lecture, he had memorized them all through sheer rote.

Zhang Sheng watched in silence.

When Wei Yuan finally finished, he looked up hopefully at Zhang Sheng: “I’ve memorized all this, but I don’t understand it. Please, Master, teach me.”

Zhang Sheng reached for his teacup, but found none on the table—Wei Yuan never drank tea; Ji Liuli did, but never served Wei Yuan.

He reached for his folding fan—also absent.

Zhang Sheng glanced around; the courtyard table held nothing but ink and brush.

His outstretched hand withdrew without a word. Calm as ever, he said slowly: “This is a secret of the Celestial Mechanism Hall, with many prerequisite steps and protocols your teacher never explained. It’s natural you don’t understand it at first glance. Your immediate priority now is body forging, Qi Movement Theory, and the Art of Distinguishing Auspicious and Inauspicious in the Art of Techniques. Everything else can wait. I have matters to attend to now—I’ll leave. Next time I come, I’ll test your divination skills. You may calculate one for me then.”

Zhang Sheng always came and went as he pleased. He swept his sleeve and stepped onto his sword, vanishing instantly—giving Wei Yuan no chance to plead for him to stay.

Only when the faint glimmer of his sword-light vanished into the distance did Wei Yuan lower his gaze, silently thinking: So even my Master doesn’t know everything.

Somehow, that made him feel… closer?

But the assignments Zhang Sheng had left weighed heavily on Wei Yuan—he knew his Art of Techniques was weak, and divination was beyond him. Yet since Zhang Sheng had spoken, Wei Yuan had to prepare in advance, lest he be scolded again.

There were many forms of divination. Wei Yuan chose the most basic: tortoise-shell divination. He had no tortoise shell, but many substitutes existed. He selected a piece of spiritual wood, bowed sincerely to Heaven and Earth, infused it with Dao power, took a red coal from the brazier, and scorched the wood, watching the cracks form.

The cracks were scattered and chaotic, sharp but not circular. According to his studies, this meant financial loss and calamity—in simple terms: lose money and still suffer misfortune.

Tortoise-shell divination clearly hadn’t been mastered. Wei Yuan decided to try the Spirit-Witch Chant, a divination method from the Yu-Wu tribe, known for its accuracy.

Wei Yuan seized a handful of spiritual incense ash, found an object once used by Zhang Sheng, chanted a witch-song, then flung the ash onto the object.

The ash ignited upon contact. Wei Yuan smeared his fingertip’s blood over his eyes; in the crimson vision that followed, he saw a cauldron and a furnace, both beneath roaring flames.

“Cauldron and furnace?” Wei Yuan blurted out—he’d read too many secret texts lately.

He silently thanked his luck: Thank heavens I tested this first. If I’d revealed this divination before Zhang Sheng, I’d surely face bloodshed.

Foreign methods are indeed unreliable, Wei Yuan muttered inwardly, then switched to the orthodox Dao Palace method of Qi Observation.

This time, he used a book written by Zhang Sheng himself as the medium. He saw a clear aura rising from the text—but its lower half was entangled and dragged down by black qi, slowly merging with it.

What did this divination mean? Self-degradation? Compromising with corruption?

The divination texts said so—but Wei Yuan knew if he told Zhang Sh

Wei Yuan was deeply troubled; he had thought divination was merely a minor art, but never imagined even entering it would be so difficult. Fortunately, he had already cast several divinations ahead of time—clearly, he must urgently study the theory of techniques in the coming days. If every divination failed, he’d surely be scolded to death by his master.

The night was deep and still.

Zhang Sheng rode his sword into a majestic peak, its slopes riddled with caves, many of which spewed flames, while earthfire flowed everywhere; the summit, however, was shrouded in a hazy blue glow.

Zhang Sheng landed midway up the peak, precisely at the boundary between the blue glow and the earthfire. From here, he could sense the scorching heat below like a hellfire, while above lay endless icy cold.

At that moment, a stout, dark-skinned cultivator hurried over. Seeing Zhang Sheng, his face lit up with joy as he reached out to grab Zhang Sheng’s hand, exclaiming, “I’m Yu Zhizhuo—I’ve been waiting so long for my junior brother to arrive!”

Zhang Sheng stepped back subtly, avoiding the outstretched hand. Yu Zhizhuo didn’t mind, laughing heartily and self-deprecating, “I deal with magic treasures and tools every day—I got carried away just now, my apologies!”

Zhang Sheng said, “No harm done. Your urgent matter comes first.”

“Good! I heard you’ve cultivated the Immortal Sword, Severing the Void?”

Zhang Sheng replied, “Indeed. Since its cultivation, I’ve never tested its edge.”

The cultivator beamed. “That’s perfect! After reviewing the scriptures, I’ve found that among all blades, the Immortal Sword, Severing the Void ranks among the top three in sharpness! This task can only be yours!”

Zhang Sheng said, “I won’t claim whether it’s truly top three, but its sharpness is undeniable—few things can withstand its cut. Could you tell me the specifics of this task? What am I to sever? An ancient demon, a ferocious alien race, or a celestial demon?”

“Don’t rush, junior brother—follow me!” Yu Zhizhuo led Zhang Sheng upward into the hazy blue glow. The surroundings instantly shifted from scorching heat to unbearable cold; even Zhang Sheng had to secretly channel his Dao power to resist it, while Yu Zhizhuo showed no sign of discomfort.

Zhang Sheng’s heart tightened slightly. This cultivator was also at the Dao Foundation realm, same sub-realm as himself—yet clearly, Yu Zhizhuo’s spiritual power surpassed his own. The Tai Chu Palace truly harbored dragons and tigers; no one could be underestimated.

As they walked, Yu Zhizhuo continued, “Our Palace of Heavenly Craft specializes in Yin-Yang alchemical forging. The lower half of the peak draws natural earthfire; the upper half uses that fire to nurture a strand of celestial Mingyan .”

Yu Zhizhuo chattered on about the sights of the Palace of Heavenly Craft, but Zhang Sheng already knew well of its famed ice-and-fire spectacle. He had no interest in lesser details, yet he still showed due respect to his benefactor—no need to reply; listening was enough.

Soon, the two arrived before a side hall. Even outside, Zhang Sheng felt a wave of ferocious malevolence strike his face!

Zhang Sheng did not fear—he rejoiced. His pupils rippled like water, faintly revealing a hazy gray aura. If even the Palace of Heavenly Craft could not suppress this thing’s malevolent aura, it must be a great battle indeed. He hadn’t trained properly in a long time—this battle came at the perfect moment, just right to hone his blade.

Yu Zhizhuo led Zhang Sheng into the side hall, where several disciples of the Palace of Heavenly Craft had already formed a grand array, seated at stellar positions, encircling a single object in the center—the source of the staggering malevolence.

The object was a metallic lump, uneven and pitted, about the size of a water vat.

Yu Zhizhuo’s eyes gleamed at the metallic lump as he rubbed his hands and said to Zhang Sheng, “This is celestial meteorite iron—our True Persons barely managed to draw it down. It’s utterly indestructible, and cannot be cut with overwhelming spiritual power, or the power would seep in and alter its nature. Throughout the entire palace, only you, Senior Brother Zhang, possess the capability for this task!”

Yu Zhizhuo stepped aside and said, “Please, junior brother—cut this into a perfect cube.”

All the disciples of the Palace of Heavenly Craft watched with eager anticipation, eager to witness the legendary Immortal Sword in action.

(End of Chapter)