Chapter 32: Chapter Thirty-Two: Qi Cultivation

“Erlang! This isn’t the time to throw a tantrum!”

Hearing Tong Yi’s shout, Deng Zhongzhi’s face flickered with anger; inwardly, he longed to slap the man’s mouth shut, wishing he’d never speak again in this life.

“What tantrum? When have I, Tong Yi, ever thrown a tantrum?!”

Tong Yi reluctantly turned his head away, glancing at Chen Hang and saying, “Let me go, and I won’t hold you accountable for breaking my arm! Yang Shan Daoist is dead—he was nothing but a dog of my Tong family. Why should I risk my own life for him?!”

“I see you’ve achieved fetal breathing, just like me—you’re a seed for the Dao. If you spare me, once I enter the Five Lights Sect, I’ll report to my senior masters and get you in too. How about it?”

Suppressing his killing intent, Tong Yi began to coax gently:

“The Five Lights Sect has Primordial Spirit True Persons dwelling in the world. Within it, you might soar to heights—attain the Purple Chamber, the Cave of Mystery, and become a famed Great Alchemist. Isn’t that glorious?”

“Hmph!”

Tu Shan Ge chuckled behind Chen Hang.

“So you know the Five Lights Sect has Primordial Spirit True Jun residing there? The Southern Region is a notorious backwater of Dongmi Prefecture—you’re just a peasant from a poor little kingdom. How dare you claim you’ll surely enter the Five Lights Sect? Do you truly believe your talent rivals Junyao of the Jade Celestial Sect?”

“You…” Tong Yi was furious.

Chen Hang had merely watched from the sidelines until Tong Yi was left speechless, then smiled faintly.

“The Five Lights Sect may be fine, but I only care for immediate gains—talismans and artifacts suit me better.”

“Damn it!”

Provoked by Chen Hang’s mocking half-smile, Tong Yi felt blood surge to his scalp; he’d been pampered since childhood, never once treated with such contempt—he lost all reason.

“You damn pretty boy, think your looks give you the right to look down on me?! If you lay a finger on me, I’ll have my father sell you to a brothel, make you a male concubine, force you to service men every day!”

Tong Yi’s eyes burned red as he screamed:

“Your looks must be adored by the noble ladies of the capital—you’ll sire beautiful children. I’ll make your whole family live as male concubines for all eternity—you—”

Before he finished, the sword slashed a deep gash across his neck; one more forceful cut and it would sink in.

“I—”

Tong Yi shuddered violently; his blazing rage was doused like a bucket of ice water.

Tu Shan Ge shrank back, thinking this man was truly finished.

“Honestly, I’d rather not oppose the Pillar General. After all, I’m just a commoner—how could I possibly stand against the power of an entire nation?”

Looking at Deng Zhongzhi, who stood as if facing a mortal threat, Chen Hang sighed softly:

“But I truly can’t bear to give up the talisman artifacts. What do you suggest?”

“...What do you intend?”

“I’m skilled in unarmed combat. Let us wrestle—winner takes one talisman artifact. Agreed?”

Tu Shan Ge instantly sensed deception, but to play along, he feigned disbelief.

“This…”

Deng Zhongzhi hesitated.

Before he could think further, Chen Hang pulled the sword again, making Tong Yi howl in agony.

“Only unarmed combat! A gentleman’s pact! I trust you’ll keep your word!”

Seeing Tong Yi’s pitiful state, Deng Zhongzhi’s heart softened; he abandoned the thought of fleeing and agreed.

“Rest assured—I’ve always been the most trustworthy man, a true gentleman who acts as he speaks.”

Chen Hang said coolly:

“Proceed.”

Tu Shan Ge swiftly took the sword Chen Hang handed him, continuing to restrain Tong Yi, while Deng Zhongzhi straightened his spine, coiled like a great tiger, advancing slowly toward Chen Hang.

When the distance between them shrank to three zhang, Chen Hang spoke no word—he swept his sleeve, and a bolt of lightning crashed down upon Deng Zhongzhi’s head!

“...Cowardly scoundrel!”

There was no time to dodge. Deng Zhongzhi, terrified and stunned, expelled all his fetal breath through mouth and nose, forcing it to coalesce before his body.

But before the third thunder struck, the fetal breathing shattered—he collapsed, his body charred black, flesh and blood torn, barely breathing, clearly dying.

“You deceived me… not the way of a gentleman…”

Deng Zhongzhi mustered his last breath and spat.

“To be honest, I don’t have much fetal breathing left either… If you’d truly tried to flee, I couldn’t have stopped you easily—I had no choice but this desperate move. Forgive me.”

Chen Hang leaned against a great pillar in the hall, bowing slightly; using so much fetal breathing left him dizzy:

“But if you tell me what you know about Pillar General Tong Gaolu, perhaps I’ll spare your life.”

“Spare my life?”

Deng Zhongzhi gave a bitter laugh, lowering his gaze—his abdomen had been split open by lightning, organs writhing visibly inside.

Such wounds—unless a god came down—no one could save him.

“I’m about to die. Are you still lying to me?”

He spat coldly, struggling.

Chen Hang smiled without speaking.

“Erlang…”

Deng Zhongzhi summoned his last shred of spirit, glancing at Tong Yi—his blank, dazed, pitiful expression made him sigh inwardly.

This man who killed him acted with ruthless decisiveness, showing no regard for face—he was utterly cruel and heartless.

Someone like this, after killing me, would surely not spare the Pillar General. And Tong Yi’s will is weak—he’ll break under torture and reveal the Pillar General’s secrets.

If so…

Then there is only…

Deng Zhongzhi roared, snatching up several shards of stone, gathering his final strength, hurling them at Tong Yi’s head.

But he was already on death’s door—the stones were caught mid-air by Chen Hang’s outstretched hand.

“Old Deng… you want to kill me?”

Tong Yi murmured.

Deng Zhongzhi said nothing—he gave Chen Hang one final, deep look, then slumped, silent forever.

“You bastard—”

Before Tong Yi could finish his curse, Chen Hang struck him with a palm blow, knocking him unconscious.

“Watch him closely these days—don’t let the Pillar General’s side notice anything amiss.”

“Wait, Master.”

Hearing this, Tu Shan Ge panicked: “We’ve killed the Pillar General’s men—shouldn’t we flee now? Why stay on Yang Mountain?”

“Whether to fight or flee—we’ll decide in a few days.”

Chen Hang stood silent, arms folded: “Wait until I break through to Qi Cultivation—then I’ll decide.”

“What?!”

…

…

Five days later, outside Chen Hang’s sealed cave in the mountain’s belly.

Tu Shan Ge paced anxiously in place, trampling the yellowed, withered grass left by melting snow, grinding it into dust over and over.

Suddenly, a brilliant light burst from within the cave—moments later, the glow rose gently, as if countless star-dust and fireflies converged into one radiant whole.

“It’s done!”

Tu Shan Ge clapped his hands, a smile spreading across his face.