Chapter 60: Could Fill a Jade Sheet Entirely

After descending from the stage, Wei Yuan’s heart still pounded like a drum. Previously, he had only seen the barbarians in books and projected images created by his teachers; this was the first time he had faced them in direct combat, and against a mountain giant with exceptional individual strength.

The mountain folk were a major race, inhabiting the southern and southwestern regions of Great Tang; beyond the border mountains of Yongzhou lay their territory. There were two types of mountain folk: one slightly shorter than humans, swift as wind among the mountains, and the other—the giants Wei Yuan had faced. Their body sizes differed drastically, yet they shared the same origin and species—a marvel of creation indeed.

Wei Yuan paid special attention to the mountain folk because beyond Yongzhou lay their nation. Though their main offensive direction was not Yongzhou, small bands frequently infiltrated to harass. Moreover, the mountain folk were ferocious and cruel; in ancient times, humans were on their menu, and even today, when they captured humans, they still cooked and ate them.

The starting combat strength of mountain giants equaled that of Foundation Establishment cultivators. The one Wei Yuan faced was the weakest among them, and Tai Chu Palace, for absolute safety, had long since drugged them to destroy their intellect, leaving only combat instincts to serve as training for disciples. True mountain giants were not only cold-blooded and cruel, but also cunning and vicious, clad in full armor and wielding specially forged weapons. If such a giant had been released, Wei Yuan would have had little chance of survival.

After Wei Yuan, the other students took their turns. The vast valley was divided into over a dozen combat arenas, with battles occurring simultaneously. Against the barbarians, no restrictions applied—students could unleash all their methods.

Xiao Yu, wielding a supreme-grade magic sword enhanced by the Foundation Establishment Sun Dao, unleashed immense power and sliced the mountain giant clean in two with a single strike.

Bao Yun had not yet established her Foundation, but she possessed a full set of supreme-grade magic artifacts. Holding a crystal jade vase, she activated it to radiate brilliant light, unleashing a torrent of powerful Dao techniques like a storm, reducing the mountain giant to a charred corpse.

Yan Ming threw out two magic orbs; when they exploded, two Whale-Jiao warriors appeared. Each stood three zhang tall—taller than the mountain giants—and possessed strength equivalent to mid-Foundation Establishment. With two against one, they swiftly slew the mountain folk. Yet these orbs were single-use items with no cultivation base requirement, each worth one hundred thousand immortal silver taels. Yan Ming essentially spent two hundred thousand taels to secure a decent exam ranking, with rewards worth only about two thousand taels.

Yan Ming faced no mockery; instead, he received praise and awe. The reason was simple: those two hundred thousand taels were earned by him himself over the past three years. His original grant came from the Patriarch’s jade belt pendant, which possessed a space-bending ability—effectively, the Patriarch’s waist pouch.

The Patriarch’s waist pouch’s gift was truly terrifying.

Besides these few, several other disciples employed various methods to barely win, but most students were defeated. Mountain giants had thick skin and dense bones; ordinary Foundation Establishment magic artifacts only inflicted minor wounds. Those lacking effective offensive techniques could not seriously injure their opponents even after exhausting their spiritual power, so over half of those who had already established their Foundation still lost.

By the end of the entire exam, only thirteen students had defeated the half-disabled mountain giants—less than one in ten. Tai Chu Palace disciples had all been arrogant, dismissing the barbarians as mere talk—until they faced them directly and truly felt the barbarians’ ferocity was no exaggeration.

After both exams, Wei Yuan ranked fourth among the five disciples of the Dingxin Sect who had received the Patriarch’s grace—neither outstanding nor poor—and received three vials of Peiyuan Elixir.

Yet among all students, only Wei Yuan had directly clashed with the mountain giant and held his own. Inspired by Wei Yuan’s example, all disciples of Mingwang Hall charged head-on against the mountain giants—and all suffered crushing defeats, including two who could have won.

One Mingwang Hall prodigy imitated Wei Yuan, wielding a long spear and stabbing the mountain giant’s groin from behind. The giant, in pain, collapsed—accidentally sitting on the disciple beneath him. The disciple was severely injured and thus lost.

After the small exam, rumors spread that the Mingwang Hall Master had approached Xuan Yue Zhenjun, seeking to take Wei Yuan as his disciple—unsuccessfully. Others whispered that the Mingwang Hall Master had long known Xuantian Hall would never release him; he had merely gone to show off, as his hall had recently acquired a windfall and wished to impress Xuan Yue Zhenjun.

After the small exam, what Wei Yuan did not expect was that the bone refinement process would continue!

At this point, he had finished reading all the Yin-Yang secret texts—he knew everything he should and shouldn’t know—and wanted to argue with his senior sister.

But his senior sister never argued with anyone.

She declared: “Even if a little bird turns into an eagle, or an eagle spits blood, the refinement must still proceed as it must.”

Wei Yuan resisted fiercely—and was swiftly crushed. The process was deeply humiliating, enough to fill a jade sheet, and from then on, Wei Yuan never dared to resist again.

Fortunately, Wei Yuan had not yet established his Foundation, so his senior sister’s ultimate technique—“Pulling Out the Foundation”—had no use; otherwise, he would have experienced pain beyond endurance, life worse than death, death longing for life, and life hovering between being and not being.

Blood Integration cultivation continued as before, but the elixirs were now Blood Essence Pills, each costing two hundred immortal silver taels, three per day. The taste was indescribable—worse than Peiyuan Elixir. After three days, Wei Yuan felt even the toad’s life was not worth living.

He ate them for three years.

Upon completing Blood Integration, Wei Yuan’s entire blood turned pale pink, thick as flowing mercury. His body grew stronger, his speed increased dramatically, and his recovery ability surged. If he now took the sect’s small exam, he could defeat his four opponents—and still fight two more.

After Blood Integration came Jade Bone—refining the entire skeleton and bone marrow. The elixir changed to Bone Forging Pills, three per day, each costing four hundred taels. The first pill made Wei Yuan question the value of his toad-like existence; he ate them for two years.

Jade Bone refinement continued as before.

Upon completing Jade Bone, Wei Yuan’s entire skeleton glowed like translucent red jade. His speed increased further, his movements flashed like lightning, his strength exploded—but his physical resilience barely improved. If he now took the small exam, except for three or five others, no one could withstand him for three rounds. Even opponents who had established their Foundation could not defeat him with mere fists and kicks. Against armored mountain giants, he now had absolute confidence of victory.

Next came Spirit Refinement, taking Spirit Nourishment Pills, seven hundred taels per pill, completed in two years.

Taking this pill made the toad’s life worse than death.

Time flew like a white horse passing a crevice. Wei Yuan finally completed Spirit Refinement, his body fully perfected, awaiting only the moment to condense his Foundation. It had been exactly ten years since he stepped onto the Immortal Path.

That year, Wei Yuan was sixteen.

The toad was ten.

At dawn that day, Zhang Sheng sat before Wei Yuan for his final examination.

In Wei Yuan’s consciousness sea, the visualization image pulsed with vitality, lively and dynamic, already possessing its own spiritual aura. This was the mark of perfected body cultivation; the jade toad within was especially spirited, blinking its eyes playfully as Zhang Sheng’s spiritual sense swept over it.

Yet according to Tai Chu Palace standards, this visualization image was utterly ordinary—no auspicious beasts, celestial birds, divine demons, or immortal deities, no divine swords or weapons. Only the shadow coiled within the full moon held any uniqueness.

But Zhang Sheng and Wei Yuan knew how arduous it had been to fill this image.

Over the past several years, every disciple of Xuantian Hall, from Xuan Yue Zhenjun down, had ignored the shadow reappearing in the moon, never mentioning it. As long as the shadow did not expand the visualization, they acted as if it did not exist.

After carefully examining the visualization image, Zhang Sheng sighed—a long, weary sigh—for Wei Yuan, and for his own wasted decade. He remained silent for a moment, then said: “Come. Follow me to meet the Patriarch.”

At this point, Wei Yuan had also cultivated spiritual power; he stood steady atop the flying sword as it shot through the air like lightning, landing instantly at the Xuantian Main Hall. The last time Wei Yuan had been here was nine years ago.

In the center of the hall sat an old Daoist with white hair and long beard, kind-eyed and benevolent, his face flushed like a baby’s. At Zhang Sheng’s prompting, Wei Yuan hurried forward to perform the grand kowtow. This seemingly gentle old man was Xuan Yue Zhenjun, master of both Xuantian Hall and Shuixue Hall.

On either side of the Zhenjun stood six True Persons, with Fenhai Zhenjun standing second from the left. Today, all six True Persons of Xuantian and Shuixue Halls were present—a truly solemn occasion.

After receiving the bow, Xuan Yue Zhenjun ordered Wei Yuan to rise, his eyes half-open, seeing through Wei Yuan’s inner and outer state. Wei Yuan now stood over seven chi tall—taller than most by a head—his skin glowing with inner radiance, flawless.

As for his appearance, Fenhai Zhenjun had long said he was better-looking than Zhang Sheng, causing Zhang Sheng to sulk for three months. Now grown, the gap had widened further.

Yet Wei Yuan had always been calm and composed, his features sharp and defined, hinting at hidden sharpness—entirely unlike Xu Henshui’s pure, gentle beauty.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun stared for a long while, then sighed, his voice hollow and sorrowful: “This visualization image carries a vast, primordial aura, naturally unified, like heaven and earth—it requires no refinement at all. We were all deluded.”

Hearing this, the faces of several True Persons darkened. For the past decade, the cost of Wei Yuan’s cultivation elixirs had been the largest expense—but the cost of his foundational refinement had also been substantial. Now the Zhenjun claimed refinement was meaningless, leaving them all deeply unsettled.

How could it be meaningless? Two True Persons immediately bristled, ready to debate the Zhenjun. The Zhenjun was not always right.

One True Person spoke at length: “Ancestor Xuan Yue, I cannot agree! The foundation of Immortal cultivation is purity—this is an eternal truth! Purity is never useless. A Foundation, no matter how pure, is never too pure—just as a pure white jade sheet, if marred by a single black spot…”

Those who had achieved the Law-Form True Person were all individuals of unmatched talent, perseverance, and fortune—and nearly all shared one trait: an obsessive devotion to purity. Any impurity was like a sesame seed on a blank sheet of paper; they had to remove it to feel at ease.

When condensing their Foundations, each had wished to purify their Immortal Embryo hundreds or even thousands of times—even without impurities, they’d hammer it again and again for peace of mind.

Wei Yuan’s Immortal Embryo was unprecedented in scale, yet far inferior in purity. Any fragment of it deserved ten or more rounds of hammering—deeply satisfying to refine.

The True Persons’ divine eyes saw impurities everywhere—each glance grew more irritating, as if they longed to replace Wei Yuan and personally squeeze out every impurity.

Moreover, if refinement truly was unnecessary, why only say so now? Elixirs for each realm grew more expensive; had they known years earlier, these True Persons would not now be destitute.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun offered a few more words of encouragement, then said: “You have labored ten years. Now you must seek the opportunity to condense your Foundation. The Ten-Year Great Examination of Tai Chu Palace is approaching—every Foundation Establishment cultivator’s duty. Though you are not yet a Foundation Establishment cultivator, your perfected body may be regarded as such. Ten years of hardship have brought you to the time to serve the Palace. Zhang Sheng!”

“Disciple here.”

“You will accompany Wei Yuan on this Great Examination. Afterwards, take my token to the Palace to collect all necessary magic artifacts and equipment.”

Zhang Sheng accepted the order. Xuan Yue Zhenjun then bestowed several elixirs and magic artifacts, dismissing Wei Yuan to prepare. Throughout, Xuan Yue Zhenjun kept one hand entirely concealed within his sleeve.

After Zhang Sheng left, Xuan Yue Zhenjun’s voice rose again: “You misunderstand purity. The Dao follows nature—sometimes impurities are part of the Great Dao…”

“I cannot agree!”

“Come, come—this True Person will teach you what true respect for your master means—with only two fingers!”

PS: Sometimes, one must also be gentle—can’t cut every knife into the sore spot.

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(End of Chapter)