Chapter 101: The Eighth Faint Illumination of Spiritual Light

The eve of Lixia, green shade spread across the fields, replacing the old light with new; the warm wind first lengthened the day.

Students from the Heavenly Book Academy departed from Shengjing, a party of twenty traveling to Jingzhou Ferry, boarding an immortal vessel heading southwest.

At this time, the matter of demonic races entering the realm had spread after monstrous beasts descended upon Changsheng Street.

Along with them came many rare herbs native to the Snowlands, high-quality spirit stones, and even some rare metals used for weapon forging, gradually transported into the Nine Provinces.

Yet debate raged over whether to permit demonic races to enter.

For though both races had once fought side by side in blood against the Ancient Remnants, the Seven Immortal Sects remained deeply wary of the demonic races.

This seemed to confirm the demonic emperor’s maxim: Those not of our kind, their hearts are different.

But what followed caused the scholar-emperor, long secluded within the imperial palace, to personally sign a decree permitting demonic races into the Nine Provinces, and the Seven Immortal Sects tacitly accepted it, offering no resistance.

The reason was simple: the barbarian tribes of the Ten Thousand Mountains surged forth, reinvading the Northern Plains and pointing their swords at Han Tie Pass.

Since the founding of the Great Xia, humanity and the barbarians had continuously clashed, back and forth, with Han Tie Pass as the dividing line.

In the thousand-year history of humanity, the barbarians had approached Han Tie Pass several times, but never breached it.

Yet this time, it was clearly different.

As summer approached and temperatures in the Northern Plains rose, the barbarians unleashed nearly their full strength, charging forward with terrifying momentum.

Even barbarian elders participated in this campaign, plunging the Zhenbei Army into bitter struggle.

“The demonic races’ territory lies west of the Northern Plains, in the Snowlands, making them neighbors to the barbarians—if not for the Kun Ridge, they would have long been allies.”

“Humanity cannot lose the Nine Provinces, and the Seven Immortal Sects cannot afford to lose the Northern Plains, the birthplace of primordial spiritual herbs. For any reason, humanity must not clash with the demonic races at this moment.”

“Even if… both races harbor the same wolfish ambitions.”

“Our first battle of summer was already grueling; if the demonic races now attack, Han Tie Pass will surely fall.”

“There will be no more enemy armies reaching Han Tie Pass, only sudden blizzards descending upon the Northern Plains, burying thousands of barbarian troops and proclaiming humanity the true masters of the Nine Provinces.”

“I do not know why the world has become this way…”

Within the majestic palace, the emperor, clad in imperial robes, stood with his hands behind his back before the imperial hall, gazing at the darkening distant sky.

He was only thirty, in his prime, with a dignified appearance.

The only flaw was the deep crease between his brows—a Chuan -shaped scar—as if carved by a blade, even when his face was relaxed.

He Jingyuan, Director of the Imperial Immortal Supervision, stood behind him and said nothing upon hearing the emperor’s sigh.

For he knew the emperor was speaking to himself.

The emperor then sighed softly, withdrawing his gaze from the dim twilight, his eyes falling upon dancing courtesans and music weaving through the rafters—joyful, festive.

There, seated among the banquet guests, the young noble of the demonic races sat with deep sapphire eyes, unreadable.

“Brother, why are you here?”

At that moment, a woman in splendid attire approached gracefully, her voice soft as a warbling oriole; her face bore a resemblance to the emperor’s, gentle and virtuous.

He Jingyuan bowed upon hearing her: “Your Imperial Highness, the Princess.”

The Princess nodded slightly, turning to the emperor: “The wind has risen. You drank much wine earlier—return to your chambers.”

The emperor shook his head, resting his hand on the stone pillar before the hall: “Let me watch a little longer. One day, I may become a deposed monarch.”

He Jingyuan frowned: “Your Majesty jests. The Great Xia’s realm shall endure ten thousand years.”

The emperor smiled faintly, turning to them: “Strange, isn’t it? I expected the demonic races to return to the Nine Provinces with arrogance, especially toward me—after all, everyone knows the Great Xia Court is merely a tool of the Seven Immortal Sects. Yet they’ve been so courteous?”

“Before entering the palace, the demonic delegation took a sword on Changsheng Street—perhaps that cut their pride a little, making them less boastful.”

The emperor was surprised: “Who drew the blade?”

He Jingyuan gazed toward nearby Nishan: “An outer academy student from the Heavenly Book Academy, named Ji You.”

The emperor paused, then nodded: “That fellow who awakened the Heavenly Book upon entry…”

“Precisely.”

“I heard he is a close friend and fellow townsman of the Top Graduate I appointed—but what sparked his conflict with the demonic races?”

“It’s said that when the demonic race descended on their monstrous steed, they nearly crushed a child. Ji You was on the street and intervened, but couldn’t dodge in time—he punched the beast.”

The Princess’s eyes trembled slightly; she opened her mouth in astonishment.

The emperor lifted his gaze, silent for a long while, then said: “Bring the Top Graduate to me. Assign him to the Ministry of Revenue to oversee the demonic races’ entry into the Nine Provinces, and appoint him as Director of the Imperial Immortal Supervision’s Reception Office.”

He Jingyuan pondered deeply, then spoke: “That’s too swift. Moreover, the Inspection Office reports he was extremely close to Wei Li’s granddaughter.”

“No matter. He is one of the very few who walks the same path as I…”

After this imperial banquet, the demonic races began appearing throughout the Nine Provinces.

Yet whenever demonic races—especially those with obvious physical traits—appeared on the streets, whispers and suspicion inevitably arose.

Still, no disturbances erupted. Though rumors of demonic races devouring humans persisted, they ignored them.

The Seven Immortal Sects had no attention to spare for the demonic races, for internal conflicts among them had already erupted.

The Mountain Sea Pavilion and the Heavenly Sword Peak of Spirit Sword Mountain both arrived at Huangyun Mountain, facing off outside the Chen Shixian Clan’s protective array—three immortal sects poised for battle.

This situation caused frequent sword-drawings among cultivators outside their sects.

Thus, west of Qingzhou, the wild plains churned with hidden currents.

In addition, the Heavenly Book Academy party traveling south from Shengjing along the Nujiang River also drew attention.

“Look—the only two direct disciples of the academy’s Hall Master; the one behind is Ji You, with no noble family background.”

“Going to Spirit Sword Mountain?”

“Yes. The Heavenly Book Academy seeks the Dao from Spirit Sword Mountain.”

“If Ji You’s sword truly lives up to legend, he’d be better suited as a disciple of Spirit Sword Mountain—pity he was born in Fengzhou.”

“I heard the demonic delegation took a sword to the chest on Changsheng Street?”

The immortal vessel sped on; three days later, they reached Xiyang County in Liangzhou.

The Heavenly Book Academy students disembarked at the ferry, lodging at Chaoyang Inn—stopping here because Danzong lay southwest of Liangzhou.

You Buyu wished to visit Danshan; this was the place to rest before proceeding.

Yet since Xiyang County lay on the essential route to Qingzhou, many cultivators passed through, most heading toward the Chen Clan of the Ask-the-Mountain Sect.

Along the way, they had seen demonic races and witnessed cultivators fighting; the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Ji You was now in his room at Chaoyang Inn, all his qi orifices open, drawing spiritual energy into his body, igniting spiritual fire.

Mysterious pale-blue flames surged through his interior, then burst outward, refining every inch of his flesh.

Beads of sweat formed densely on his forehead.

This was a basic method for refining spiritual essence; because Ji You’s spiritual essence had shattered and scattered through his limbs and organs, he used this method to purify his body.

After a long while, a roaring gust dispersed, light radiated in all directions, then swiftly receded. Ji You slowly opened his eyes upon the bed.

The eighth faint illumination of spiritual light ended.

This time, he felt his blood and qi much stronger.

Moreover, he detected an extra surge of qi within his body—each refinement cycle it surged violently, then sank back into his limbs and organs.

On the day he ascended the White Jade Immortal Platform, Sun Bin had ingested an elixir and formed a milky protective aura to guard against his sword.

Now, his physical strength matched Sun Bin’s spiritual aura almost exactly.

Solid as stone—whoever the woman is, she’s lucky…

He swung his fist; the Shaking Mountain Fist he had practiced for years moved with his qi, filling the room with wind, tiger roars echoing.

With his body strengthened, his strength had increased—mutually reinforcing.

Ji You clenched his fist, recalling his battle with the demonic guard on Changsheng Street, savoring the qi that had surged through the spear’s shaft—he thought: Among all races, humanity’s physique was indeed the weakest.

Had he not already achieved three faint illuminations before that day, his hand bones might have been shattered on the street.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door. Wen Zhengxin entered in a cloud-silk ruqun, calling him down for dinner.

“Sister, why don’t demonic races cultivate spell arts?”

“They do cultivate spell arts, but far more difficult than for humans—only those with exceptional talent can succeed. I heard from the inner academy instructors it’s because their nature clashes with the Dao.”

Wen Zhengxin walked ahead, adding: “Yet demonic races have their own secret cultivation methods, formidable in combat, and like the barbarians, possess bloodline talents. Now that Great Xia permits their entry, younger brother, if you meet them on the street, never let your guard down.”

As they spoke, they reached the first floor, where the Heavenly Book Academy disciples had gathered in the front hall.

You Buyu, already seated, glanced at Ji You, his expression dark.

The Heavenly Book Academy’s quest to Spirit Sword Mountain, though less grand than the standoff between Mountain Sea Pavilion and Heavenly Sword Peak against Chen Shixian, was still a major event—this journey had drawn much gossip.

Especially since he, as a Hall Master’s direct disciple, was naturally the center of attention.

Yet Ji You’s popularity was no less—many, upon seeing him, shifted their focus from themselves to him.

Ultimately, Ji You’s single-handed three-sword strike against the demonic guard on Changsheng Street, amplified by the debate over demonic entry, had become profoundly significant.

Before leaving, he told He Lingxiu he would go to Danshan as a Hall Master’s direct disciple to prove his worth to Yuan Caiwei—but now the world shouted only Ji You’s name.

He Lingxiu was also watching Ji You descend the stairs, thinking: “Ji You’s aura seems to change daily.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t notice on the journey, but yesterday…”

Yesterday, He Lingxiu had passed Ji You; her cultivator senses had keenly detected his blood and qi growing more turbulent.

Especially his heartbeat—thump, thump—like a heavy hammer striking the ground; recalling it now felt like thunder in her ears.

(End of Chapter)