Chapter Thirty-Two: The Dragon Battles in the Wilds—Though Modestly Strong, It Knows No Fear, and the Fruits of the Dao Are Its Own Reward

Returning to the tranquil courtyard, Anle was naturally unaware of the old man with a bamboo staff who had appeared on the street, nor that this elder was watching over his safety and fate.

Within the courtyard, Hu Jingang’s corpse lay still upon the ground, blood seeping out beneath him. Anle regarded the scene for a while, his expression unchanging and his heart now as calm as still water, the initial turmoil of his first kill settled into serenity. He felt no regret for taking a life. Since coming to this world and stepping onto the path of cultivation, he had learned, just as Constable Huang had told him, that one must be prepared to kill—if you do not take lives, yours will be taken.

The world of cultivators was, in its own way, another kind of jianghu: practitioners large and small like pearls on a string, and the grudges and feuds between them the silken threads binding them. When the winds of fate blew, this world would ripple like a beaded curtain, and even those who wished for peace could not find it.

Seated in a chair, he saw that half a jug of old yellow wine remained on the table, and only a few pieces of pork head had been taken with his chopsticks. Anle fetched a fresh pair of chopsticks, set the candleholder upon the table, and the dim light illuminated the dusky courtyard.

The night was clear, the moonlight silver.

When pouring wine, it must fill the cup to the brim.

Thus, accompanied by the spring night, the stars, the candlelight, the old locust tree, and the headless corpse in the yard, Anle ate and drank.

Tonight, he reckoned, the elder from the Imperial Ancestral Temple would not come, but given the man’s status, the promise of the sword would not go unfulfilled.

Anle was in no rush. After finishing his meal, he tidied up, carried the candleholder, and returned indoors.

Cross-legged on his bed, he first reviewed the night’s battle with Hu Jingang. Although the fight had been one-sided, it was his first solo encounter with another cultivator. He replayed the events over and over, placing himself in Hu Jingang’s position, pondering how he might have responded.

This kind of reflection proved unexpectedly intriguing.

[Dauntless Heart (Dao Fruit): When the dragon battles in the wild, victory brings quiet strength and fearlessness, the Dao Fruit nourishes itself.]

A line of words suddenly appeared before his eyes.

Then, as if a stream of pure energy surged forth, it coursed through him like a dragon and serpent, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, from his palms to his very core.

Anle felt his vital energy grow slightly stronger, faintly seeping into his bones—a sign of approaching spirit-bone forging. His mind, newly entered into embryonic breath, became even more stable and unshakeable.

After a moment’s surprise, Anle realized the effect of the Dauntless Heart Dao Fruit: overcoming calamity would strengthen his fearlessness and feed back into his cultivation. Hu Jingang had counted as a minor tribulation, so the benefit was small but present.

This “small” was indeed subtle—his already full vitality was pushed a bit further, bringing him closer to forging spirit bones, and his spirit grew more refined. It truly was a slight strengthening, but worth as much as practicing the Five Beasts Exercise a dozen more times; not a poor result.

Anle smiled. This night’s battle had stirred his emotions, leaving him unsettled.

He did not continue practicing the Five Beasts Exercise, but instead began to meditate upon the “Swordfall Diagram,” using his Dao Fruit, now transformed into [Innate Swordsman], to temper his mind.

On the candlelit table, the flame danced, casting shifting shadows and light throughout the room.

The long night had only just begun.

...

...

The carriage returned to a secluded residence on a quiet street.

The burly coachman, removing his bamboo hat as he stepped down, found his legs weak, barely able to stand—the threat of that sword intent still haunted him.

He calmed his nerves and made his way through winding corridors and flowing water features of the residence.

The night sky was awash with stars, and the silver moon hung like a disk.

In the courtyard, all was chill and clear. At its center sat a figure in a Confucian robe, bathed in moonlight and starlight. The pond’s water was split, and one by one, small swords floated above its surface, threads of sword aura weaving together, like a great dragon drawing water, pouring it down upon the figure’s head to cleanse away the shadows of sword intent that stained his Dao heart.

With a crisp clang, the small swords hovering above the pond were struck away by a mysterious force, splashing water in their wake.

The ripples spread, then slowly stilled.

Luo Qingchen opened his eyes, sweat beading his brow, a flicker of pain passing quickly through his gaze. Rising, he strolled into the pavilion, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Is it done?” Luo Qingchen asked coolly.

The coachman kept his head bowed, unsure how to answer.

“Failed, then?” Luo Qingchen arched a brow; seeing the coachman’s demeanor, he knew the answer.

“Wasn’t Hu Jingang’s vital energy supposed to be at its peak? With his vicious temperament and ruthless decisiveness, how could he fail to kill a mere youth who just set foot on the path of cultivation?”

Luo Qingchen sat on a round chair of carved Kun stone in the pavilion; the table, too, was of Kun stone, finely polished, with a tea tray atop it. A charcoal brazier simmered nearby, water bubbling softly.

Unhurried, he brewed a cup of black tea, lifted it, blew away the steam, and was about to drink when—

“Sir, that youth... has already entered embryonic breath in spirit refinement, and his vital energy is at its peak. Hu Jingang was no match.” The coachman spoke in a low voice.

Luo Qingchen froze, cup midway to his lips.

He turned, brows knitting, and fixed his gaze on the coachman, his voice rising: “Already reached embryonic breath in spirit refinement? And his vital energy is also at its peak?”

“You’re certain?”

The coachman clasped his hands in a salute. “The youth beheaded Hu Jingang and tossed the head to me. Then he brandished his blade at me, his vital energy on full display—it was indeed at the peak. As for his mind... I sensed a pressure, which leads me to believe he’s reached embryonic breath.”

Luo Qingchen set down his cup, narrowing his eyes.

“A prodigy in spirit refinement? No wonder Lady Hua would shield his path... Such speed in cultivation is indeed extraordinary.”

“But perhaps Lady Hua gifted him some artifact for spirit refinement. This youth came to Lin’an for the Spring Examinations, did he not? It seems Lady Hua wishes to use him to break the impasse, to have him top the list in the Spring Examinations, attend the palace examination, and, against all odds, win the ‘Defying the Storm’ token.”

Luo Qingchen smiled, speculating aloud.

At eighteen, only just beginning cultivation, how could one reach embryonic breath in mere days? Surely there was external aid involved.

Three days to embryonic breath... Even Luo Qingchen himself could not compare.

Since Anle enjoyed Lady Hua’s favor, Luo Qingchen naturally assumed it was she who had aided him.

“Keep watching him. Do not act for now. This opportunity came by chance—Hu Jingang failed to kill him, and such a chance will not come again easily.”

“But it’s no great matter; relying on external force for embryonic breath is like forcing the seedling to grow—his foundation will be flawed, and his future on the path of cultivation is doomed.”

Luo Qingchen spoke indifferently.

The coachman glanced at him, mouth opening as if to speak, but thought better of it.

When the youth had hurled Hu Jingang’s head at him, the confidence, the arrogance, the unrestrained spirit… it hardly seemed like someone whose future had been ruined.

“By the way, since Hua Jiebing has gone to such lengths to raise this youth, clearly pinning her hopes on the palace examination, I should visit the Qin Prime Minister’s estate and mention him to Young Master Qin. We could cut off his path to officialdom, shatter Lin Mansion’s ambitions. I imagine Young Master Qin would be very amenable.”

“This year’s Spring Examinations see the finest talents from every faction competing on another level, and to reach the top ranks is no easy feat. Still, since the youth is connected to the Lin family, it never hurts to plan ahead.”

Luo Qingchen mused.

In the end, the coachman held his tongue.

He, too, felt it was unnatural for a youth to reach both peak vital energy and embryonic breath so quickly without outside help. The youth had only begun at eighteen—surely he could not surpass even his master, could he?

Besides, his master’s Dao heart was clouded, not his eyes; when he saw the youth again, he would be able to tell if he was truly a monster.

He was just a coachman—best not to worry about such things.

...

...

Lin’an, Ye Residence.

A lively banquet was in full swing, the lights bright, cups and plates exchanging hands, the aroma of fine wine and delicacies filling the air.

Yet at the banquet table, only women sat; not a single man was present.

At the head sat a dignified and elegant woman, her attire as splendid as her bearing. Her smile was gentle enough to melt the winter’s chill.

At her side was the stunningly beautiful Lady Hua.

Lady Hua and the elegant woman conversed with delight, when suddenly Lady Hua’s expression shifted, as if sensing something, and she gazed toward the direction of the Imperial Ancestral Temple Lane.

She had promised to light the way for Anle on his path of cultivation, to shield him; naturally, she had left behind certain measures. If Anle were in danger, she would sense it.

But the feeling came and went quickly, indicating that Anle had likely encountered a battle, but not against enemies of overwhelming power—her intervention was unnecessary.

To shield was not to resolve every hardship; most trials the youth must face himself, for only thus could he grow.

Returning to herself, Lady Hua raised her cup to drink with the elegant woman.

“Jiebing, I know why you’ve come to me. Of course I’ll help you, but what I can do is limited. When the time comes for the palace examination, I can accompany you into the Heavenly Mystery Palace under the pretext of my title. But as for reclaiming Dalang’s ‘Defying the Storm,’ I won’t be able to help much,” the dignified woman said gently.

Lady Hua’s eyes took on a complex emotion—she knew this was the greatest promise the woman could offer.

Madam Ye knew her purpose in entering the Supreme Mystery Palace, yet still gave her this assurance.

“Jiebing, if you wish to reclaim Dalang’s ‘Defying the Storm,’ you ought to seek out a genius capable of reaching the top ranks in the Spring Examinations, and do all you can to ensure victory in the palace examination and win the token,” Madam Ye said with a hint of doubt.

Lady Hua shook her head, sighing. “Sister, do you think my Lin family could find such a favored son of heaven to help us? All those geniuses already have powerful backers—if the Lin family sought their aid, we’d only fall under the sway of other factions…”

“That is why I refuse to rely on any such prodigies.”

She spoke with candor, and Madam Ye nodded, understanding. “Then did it never occur to you, Jiebing, to cultivate such a talent within the Lin family itself, to raise a youth who could reach the top ranks?”

“Sister, you jest. Though the Lin family is a household of military merit, our foundation is far inferior to the Academies or the Martial Temples. Besides, to reach the top ranks requires not just talent but also the ability to triumph in the palace examination—both skill and cultivation are essential. How could the Lin family so easily raise such a youth?”

Lady Hua smiled bitterly.

Yet as she finished speaking, a certain young figure flickered unexpectedly across her mind.