Chapter Fifty-Eight: Refining the Spirit, Transcending the Mundane, Forging the Sword Furnace; The Lady Refuses to Let Youthful Ambition Be Broken

Tonight, the deep blue vault of heaven is strewn with starlight, as if an immortal had scattered beans across the sky—dense, chaotic, some bright, some dim. Here, the stars thin out; there, they gather into a brilliant river of light.

Anle stands in the courtyard. The wild, restless wind seems to carry the sharp intent of blades, stirring fiercely. The Qingshan and Mo Pool swords, thrust into the old locust tree, tremble violently, sending leaves cascading down from the ancient branches.

Within his Mud Pill Palace, the sword pool seethes and boils. Countless sword auras clang and collide; a tangible sword floats above the pool, quivering, and the tremor spreads through the well.

Anle’s spirit has reached the very limits of the Fetal Breath realm. On the sixth mountain, he ascended while visualizing sword auras falling like spring rain, observing the sword waterfall, condensing his sword pool—his spirit grew immensely. In the Lin residence, painting the “Galloping Horse,” his spirit merged with the art; as the painting matured into an eighth-grade Spirit-Refining Chart, his own spirit soared again, nearing a breakthrough.

That battle on the long street with the burly coachman, Zhu Shan, finally shattered the barrier. It was as if a wall blocking the radiant sun was pierced, and light flooded the darkness.

Now, Anle has broken through the second Spirit-Refining realm of Fetal Breath and stepped into the third: Transcendence.

Transcendence, as the name suggests, is extraordinary. It is also called Shedding the Mortal Shell—surpassing the Fetal Breath realm, one’s spirit can extend outward, wielding swords, blades, talismans, and the wind itself, accomplishing feats impossible for mere mortals.

Simply put, one can now perform actions that defy common sense and physical explanation.

For those of mediocre talent, to reach Transcendence in Spirit-Refining is as difficult as climbing the heavens. Take Qin Qianqiu, the Prime Minister’s favored son, who possesses endless resources and treasures—his Spirit-Refining has only barely reached Transcendence.

Transcendence marks the utmost limit for the majority. But Anle, blessed with the Dao Fruit of “Talent Through the Ages,” is no ordinary man. Even so, this stage had stalled him for some time. Now, with the feedback of the “Fearless Heart” Dao Fruit, his breakthrough to Transcendence in Spirit-Refining is all but effortless.

Before his eyes, a screen of light flashes by:
[Fearless Heart (Dao Fruit): When dragons clash in the wild and realms are surpassed, Fearlessness is magnified; the Dao Fruit rewards itself.]

A pure energy rises and flows through his body. Skin, meridians, spirit bones, dantian, even the Mud Pill Palace—every part is bathed in cool streams, echoing back to the flesh, bestowing an extraordinary transformation.

His vital energy surges and boils, coursing through his meridians. His heart vessels swell in a heartbeat, unleashing boundless force.

Having only just reached the Spirit Bone-Tempering phase, Anle now feels his blood and energy roaring, swirling like a vortex, burning hot and fierce within his dantian, scouring his body of impurities.

This is the feedback of the Fearless Heart. Yet it cannot, regrettably, help him condense his Inner Pill in one go. And little wonder—in the path of body-forging, Anle can only diligently practice the Five Beasts. The “Five Beasts Body-Tempering Technique,” though not top-tier like the “Sword Waterfall Chart,” is reliable but slow.

In Spirit-Refining, aided by painting, sword waterfall visualization, and the innate swordmaster Dao Fruit, his progress outstrips that of his physical training.

A thunderous boom!

As if a great bell and drum exploded beside his ears, Anle’s eyes snap open. Suddenly, all the world seems silent.

His spirit bursts from the Mud Pill Palace, radiating out a full yard. He senses the shifting of gravel on the ground, the falling of leaves from the old locust, the faint tremor of the Qingshan and Mo Pool swords.

It is a marvelous sensation, as though one had crossed the gulf between man and god.

Though freshly arrived at Transcendence and still clumsy in controlling his spirit, with only a yard’s reach, the sense of his spirit leaping, of holding dominion over all, is intoxicating.

Right now, Anle feels as if he could take up a sword and be the equal of any adversary.

Of course, this is nothing but an illusion.

Were he to draw his sword against Lady Hua at this moment, she could kill him with a single slap.

He gathers back his extended spirit. The sword pool in the Mud Pill Palace calms, and at last, the vague shadow of a forge takes shape, a tangible sword suspended within, glimmering with light.

Fetal Breath forms the sword pool; Transcendence condenses the sword forge.

According to the “Sword Waterfall Chart,” once the sword forge takes shape in the Mud Pill Palace and accumulates sword energy, it marks the step into Transcendence.

The wind subsides. Cold moonlight slices through the clouded sky, bathing Anle in silver; his white robes make him seem a celestial being amidst the mortal world.

Qingshan and Mo Pool finally withdraw from the old locust, circling about Anle under the control of his outward spirit, rising and falling at will.

This is entirely unlike wielding sword aura—where sword aura is a skill, to command swords with one’s spirit is like a second nature.

In terms of lethality, sword aura remains superior. But for sword-flight, an unshackled spirit is far more effortless.

This night, Anle’s gains are immense.

Though his body-forging has not broken through, it has progressed greatly; in Spirit-Refining, he has crossed from Fetal Breath to Transcendence, attaining spirit projection.

He feels an expansive joy.

Night deepens. The old locust’s shadow, under the clear moon, grows ever more mottled.

Anle sits, not celebrating; his heart still surges with restlessness.

He rises, enters his study, grinds ink, spreads fresh paper, and lights the lamps—beginning, without pause, to paint.

Through painting, he stabilizes his newly attained Transcendence, fortifying the sword forge in his Mud Pill Palace.

As he paints, his boiling spirit gradually draws in, his mood growing calm and clear.

…

The long night has not yet ended.

In Lin’an Prefecture tonight, many are destined for sleeplessness.

At the Lin residence, in the Pure Wind Pavilion of Fourth Master Lin, the lights shine as bright as day.

Shadows flit through the courtyard, shattering the peace.

But Fourth Master Lin dares not complain, nor show his anger.

The guests are no ordinary folk. His eldest sister-in-law, Lady Hua, hardly needs mention; then there is the legendary top scholar, Li You’an, clad in white, and the inscrutable elder with long brows.

These formidable figures are not ones Lin Fourth Master can afford to offend.

“What a horse, what a painting, what a poem—what a galloping horse chart!”

The long-browed elder narrows his eyes at the painting, excitement coloring the deep lines of his face. “This brushwork fuses Young Friend An’s sketching intent; though it’s ink and wash, it leaps from the paper, vivid as life!”

“At first, I thought sketching mere cleverness, but now I see: if such technique is melded with fine brushwork or freehand style, what might not be achieved?”

Li You’an, too, admires the “Galloping Horse.” Though the painting’s spirit-refining intent is only eighth-grade, he still feels the wild, unrestrained freedom and exuberance of the depicted horse.

Viewing the painting, even his own mood is affected.

This astonishes Li You’an. All know that in cultivation, a painter’s spirit-refining chart can only reach a grade matching their own realm. A Fetal Breath-level painter can create, at best, a ninth-grade spirit-refining chart; only those who have reached Transcendence can paint at eighth-grade.

Yet when Anle painted this, he had not yet reached Transcendence, and still produced an eighth-grade chart.

Such talent is truly astounding!

Lady Hua’s discerning eye is indeed formidable.

She sits nearby, graceful and elegant, a smile on her face—part pride, part satisfaction.

She admires Anle, gifting him the “Sword Waterfall Chart.” The more dazzling his performance, the greater her sense of accomplishment.

Zhao Huangting sidles up to Fourth Master Lin, his eyes twinkling. “Little Fourth, this Galloping Horse is splendid.”

Lin Fourth Master forces a smile. “Yes, who would have thought Master An could paint a horse so well?”

“Lend me this painting a few days, old man here will study the technique and, incidentally, show it off to some old friends—what say you?”

Zhao Huangting strokes his long brows, beaming.

Lin’s smile freezes. What can he say?

“But I haven’t finished admiring it…” Lin protests weakly.

“With your wretched brushwork, what’s the use? Even if you stare at it, you’ll never master its mysteries. Let me study it, and I’ll gift you ten horse paintings in return—one for each day. My works are coveted by all Lin’an Prefecture.” Zhao Huangting waves his hand, laughing heartily.

Lin Fourth Master’s smile is strained—the painting has barely warmed in his hands.

“If you so wish, Senior, please borrow it for a few days,” he forces out.

Zhao Huangting is delighted. “Rest assured, only for a few days. I’ll return it after.”

Lin Fourth Master harbors no hope. A few days, and a few days more—once the painting is in Zhao’s hands, it’s as good as lost.

Lady Hua watches, her flawless features smiling, but says nothing. Inwardly, she sighs: even the elder cannot keep a painting forever…

Li You’an admires the painting, then says, “This youth is gifted—I hear he’s a scholar, entering this year’s Spring Examinations. Why not put your hopes in him? In the palace examination, perhaps he can win back the ‘Steady Wind’ on your behalf.”

“That would spare some turmoil.”

Lady Hua shakes her head and sighs gently. “His talent is superb, but he began cultivation too late. If he even makes the honor roll in the Spring Exams, it will already be difficult, let alone the more demanding palace examination.”

“Besides, if the boy truly took the ‘Steady Wind,’ all manner of trouble would follow, only stifling him.”

Li You’an is silent.

He is somewhat surprised; it seems Lady Hua truly cherishes and values talent, bestowing the “Sword Waterfall Chart” on Anle out of genuine appreciation.

Lady Hua’s features are like a painting, her smile soft as she gazes at the wild, unbridled horse beneath the heavens in the painting.

“The youth is fearless, proud, and ambitious… In this intoxicating, soul-consuming Lin’an, I only hope such qualities aren’t ground away. The storms and dangers that should never concern him need not touch him—lest they shatter his aspiration to rise.”