Chapter Five: Refining the Spirit into the Soul

From the Five Luminaries, to the Unity of One, and then from the Unity of One to the Preservation of Truth, Shi Yao spent a full seven days refining his own realm, while Xu Zhong followed him and learned for seven whole days as well.

These were seven days in which his comprehension of cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds.

From the Hidden Fire Luminary to the Hidden Metal Luminary, and even the entire system of the Five Luminaries, he gained a systematic understanding and formed his own framework.

Unfortunately, his wisdom was not sufficient for the subsequent realms of Unity of One and Preservation of Truth—everything was hazy, as if shrouded in mist, elusive and distant, like gazing up at an unattainable mountain.

After seven days, Shi Yao awoke leisurely and, seeing Xu Zhong sitting cross-legged, his eyes reflected the densely packed spell marks imprinted upon Xu Zhong’s five viscera. A trace of murderous intent instantly welled up within him.

Yet in the next moment, he drew back his killing intent. He more or less understood what had happened, and knew Xu Zhong had no other choice.

“It’s my fault!” Shi Yao picked up the little fox and left behind the emaciated and withered Xu Zhong.

He removed the hairpin from his topknot and made a slicing motion.

A sizzling sound broke the air.

Before his eyes appeared an alchemical chamber. The ground fire roared, the cauldron bubbled, and a particular elixir, after three hundred years of refining, was held captive within the cauldron. The spirit medicine had gained sentience and struggled to wear down the cauldron’s power.

The moment the chamber was opened, the elixir’s spirit retracted, fell silent, and tumbled to the bottom of the cauldron.

Shi Yao, manipulating objects from afar, summoned several bottles of wondrous pills.

Fragrance filled the air, spiritual energy was abundant.

This abode was innately blessed, drawing in the essence of sun and moon, channeling the world’s spiritual energy from above, connecting to the underworld below, purifying foul air and filth. It was a supremely pure and sacred place for cultivation—here, even impurities and elixirs could evolve into spirits, a testament to the spiritual abundance.

Three centuries of accumulated medicinal strength: even the scent alone carried potent effects.

The little fox inhaled the fragrance and slowly regained consciousness.

Shi Yao fed her the elixirs.

Instantly, vitality surged within her body, like a bubbling spring. The medicinal power flowed as water, mending the wounds of her five viscera.

More than that, the power spiraled upward, nourishing her demon core, restoring what had been lost.

In her delight, the little fox also confirmed Xu Zhong’s state between life and death.

Seven days without sleep or a drop to drink—his survival was owed solely to the Fire Luminary’s hidden power.

A few days more, and when that energy was depleted, he would die.

“Dissolve it in water and apply it to the surface of his body,” Shi Yao handed a few bottles to the little fox, “He takes one per day, you take three per day.”

Seeing her awake, Shi Yao set her down and entered the alchemy room.

The rift in space sealed itself again. When the little fox reached out, her paw touched nothing. It was as if that space did not exist in this world at all.

“What is he planning?” the little fox wondered, watching Shi Yao vanish into the void.

She had clearly sensed an undisguised, overwhelming killing intent, as real as substance, bearing down on both her and Xu Zhong.

“He has courage but no soul, unable to control his emotions, so his feelings show on his face.”

Shi Yao, perhaps unaware himself, had only restrained his killing intent by his own measure. The true murderous impulse had never abated.

“Does he want to kill me—or him?”

She gathered up the elixirs, leaving only one, and swallowed it whole with the jade bottle.

Dissolving the pill in water, she let its essence blend completely.

Then, using a brush, she applied the mixture to Xu Zhong’s skin.

The medicinal essence quickly volatilized on his body. His skin began to crack and flake off in sheets, like autumn leaves swept by the wind, revealing fresh, glossy skin beneath.

The same happened with his hair.

His hair fell away on its own, then grew anew...

It was as if his body had been remade.

Xu Zhong greedily absorbed the medicinal effects, gathering spiritual energy into the Hidden Fire Luminary as he had seen done.

The Fire Luminary blazed with radiant light, energy surging heavenward.

Black smoke streamed from his body’s apertures—foul air and impurities, expelled.

Within each aperture, grime had congealed, blocking the passage of energy and impeding the transformation of vital and impure qi.

But now, the Fire Luminary’s spiritual energy surged in furious tides, wave after wave scouring the grime away...

More and more filth was expelled as black smoke, the tainted skin cracked and sloughed off, only to be replaced again...

Seven days later, Xu Zhong awoke in a daze.

As he opened his eyes, every pore in his body seemed to breathe freely; each inhalation and exhalation was pure bliss.

“You’re awake!” The little fox sat atop a stone table, one paw supporting a scroll, the other turning pages, speaking to Xu Zhong with nonchalance.

“How long have I been cultivating?”

“Not so long—just fourteen days in all.”

“Fourteen days?” He’d thought it only two or three.

“That’s normal,” the little fox said, barely glancing up, “You’re only at the Five Luminaries stage; a closed-door session rarely exceeds a month.”

“But once you break through to Unity of One, Preservation of Truth, or even the Transcending Objects realm, your seclusions won’t be measured by days or months, but by years, decades, or even centuries.”

Xu Zhong thought of Shi Yao’s original self, whose soul might still be in seclusion, unaware his body had birthed wisdom anew.

“How did you suddenly get so clever?” Xu Zhong had long wanted to ask.

“Because my ancestors were prosperous.”

“What?”

The little fox explained patiently, “We demons are not like you humans. You pass on cultivation through writing. Our inheritance is carried in the bloodline.”

“Great demons with profound cultivation will imprint their insights and methods into their blood, and if their descendants awaken wisdom, they can extract this inheritance from their lineage.”

“That’s why I say, my ancestors were once prosperous.”

Demons store knowledge in blood; humans, in words. The methods differ, but the goal is the same.

“I’ve gained my surname from the bloodline and am choosing a given name. You’re well-read—help me choose a character.”

Xu Zhong approached.

Up close, he saw ink stains on her paw—she’d been practicing calligraphy before he woke.

On the adjacent brush rack, a wolf-hair brush hung upside down, ink still wet and dripping, yet the droplets hovered in the air, pooling into a cloud—no inkstone needed.

A paperweight pinned a sheet of fine paper; bold, flowing characters danced across the page.

Names she had carefully selected.

Clear, Joyful, Graceful, Gentle...

Xu Zhong was at a loss. He asked, “What’s your surname?”

“Yousu...”

In the end, the little fox chose a character herself.

Jue!

Jue means two pieces of jade joined together.

In her inherited memories, jade was abundant in her homeland.

Thus she named herself Jue—Yousu Jue.

It sounded odd, but Xu Zhong didn’t dwell on it. With a name, it was easier to call her.

“These days, aside from giving you your medicine, I’ve been reading,” Yousu Jue pawed through the pages, “The more I study, the more I realize that mortal wisdom even surpasses that of cultivators. Their understanding of the great principles of heaven and earth is even more profound.”

Like a child showing off a new toy, she beamed at her friend, “Now I understand why Shi Yao could tolerate you stealing his spells without killing you.”

“A scholar as diligent and erudite as you really can help him.”

After she closed the book, Xu Zhong saw that it was the Book of Changes.

“This book exhausts all the transformations of heaven and earth; it contains the whole cosmos within its pages,” she said, full of admiration, reluctant to put it down.

“Unfortunately, my wisdom is lacking; I can’t quite grasp it.” Her eyes shone with hope. “But you’ve studied for so many years—you must understand, otherwise how could you have guided Shi Yao with just a few words to help him rebuild the Five Luminaries?”

“Me?” Xu Zhong shook his head quickly. “As you said, this book contains all of heaven and earth. Except for its author and those who wrote the commentaries, who could claim true understanding?”

Ignorance breeds fearlessness.

The more one knows, the more one reveres.

“Good point!” Yousu Jue’s fluffy tail swished before Xu Zhong’s eyes.

Xu Zhong resisted the urge to pet it. “Where’s Shi Yao?”

“I don’t know.” At the mention of Shi Yao, the little fox lost her mood for reading. Her black eyes darted about, and she lowered her voice, “Seven days ago, after he woke, he drew with a hairpin, and a whole cavern-world appeared; another stroke, and it vanished.”

“How many such layers do you think are nested within this abode? Which level are we in?”

“It’s the Art of the Gourd Heaven!” Xu Zhong dredged up the spell from his memory.

“The Art of the Gourd Heaven is a mixed-element five-phase technique. With it, one can create pocket worlds.”

The mark of this technique was imprinted on his spleen.

It was a spell rooted in the Five Luminaries—simply put, only those in the Unity of One or higher could practice it.

Of the seventy-two spell marks within Xu Zhong, at least half were five-phase mixed-element techniques based on the Five Luminaries.

“In the Unity of One realm, you can open a world a square fathom wide. In Transcending Objects, you might nest such worlds into a true abode.”

Yousu Jue shook her head, half understanding.

Suddenly, her fur bristled, and terror filled her face.

Boom!

A massive sound reverberated from the void.

Boom!

It was answered from all directions.

The echoes rang throughout the abode.

A chill ran down Xu Zhong’s spine—a sense of mortal peril seized him.

Heaven’s light was blotted out; darkness fell upon the entire abode.

The ground beneath their feet began to collapse—in fact, the entire abode was falling.

Outside, the abode detached from the mountain stream and plummeted down.

Beneath the ravine, the once clear stream froze, and black smoke gushed from below, spilling out and, when touched by daylight, instantly formed ferocious, blue-faced ghosts.

They tore free from the mist, trying to escape the ravine.

But in the next moment, the stream turned to rolling magma; fissures opened throughout the ravine, spewing molten rock.

The monsters in the ravine wailed in terror and fled.

Pop!

Someone pierced a membrane.

A gap opened; the abode fell through.

The opening sealed, the world outside returned to normal.

The stream resumed its flow; the monsters crept back to their lairs, casting fearful glances toward where the abode had fallen.

Within the abode, both man and fox felt the searing heat.

Besides the heat, they saw ripples spreading through space as layer upon layer of folded worlds began to reveal themselves.

Rays of multicolored light burst from these worlds, forming a jeweled canopy overhead.

In the sword hall, rows of treasured blades unleashed their own sword auras, whistling like wind, their light piercing heaven, striking toward parts unknown.

In the medicine fields, every spirit herb transformed into a childlike form, faces drawn in terror, burying their heads in the earth, trembling as they reverted to their true shapes.

In the puppet room, countless automatons lay dormant...

In the array chamber, banners assembled themselves into defensive formations, ready to resist calamity.

And in the alchemy room, Shi Yao sat within the great cauldron, his body washed by endless spirit medicine. Upon him, the seven souls fused as one, spirit light upon his tongue.

“Refining souls into a spirit—he’s about to forge his third soul...” Yousu Jue, widely knowledgeable, understood what he was doing.

No sooner had she spoken than all the pocket worlds within the abode unfolded, bursting through the walls. Suddenly, a ghostly city of the underworld appeared before them.

“Not good—Shi Yao’s soul-forging was detected, and we’ve been dragged into Fengdu along with him...”

A golden-armored deity awoke, stepping from the shadows.

“By order of the Lord of Mount Tai, I have come to slay those who show disrespect to gods and ghosts, and seek to overturn the cycle of reincarnation.”