Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Great Glutton

Returning to Yellow Mud Alley, he settled things simply, slipping his father a hundred taels for wine in secret and leaving another hundred for Ajou’s living expenses. Then He Chang’an headed back to the base of the Demon Suppression Tower.

Li Yishan and the little nun had left without a word; who knows where they’ve gone to flaunt their tricks this time.

Before departing, He Chang’an left the Jade-faced Spirit Fox behind, telling it to stay with Ajou and live in Yellow Mud Alley for a while. Mr. Lü had examined it and confirmed it was indeed from the demon clan, but its soul and bloodline were extraordinary, closely related to the ancient records of the Qingqiu clan. He advised He Chang’an to treat it kindly.

As for the fox’s pact with humans, He Chang’an simply ignored it. What nonsense—he wasn’t about to reason with that bald monk until he could beat him.

…

Upon returning to the Demon Suppression Tower, He Chang’an immediately began to take on tasks day and night, subduing all manner of monsters and ghosts.

Within less than a month, he subdued all the creatures on the first floor of the tower, refining a vast amount of sinister energy.

Yet strangely, his Qi Absorption Technique stalled again. His meridians and dantian ached from the swelling spiritual and righteous energies, but he could not break through the bottleneck.

“Bottleneck at the eighteenth floor, again at the twenty-seventh, now the thirty-sixth won’t let me advance…” He Chang’an suspected that his ‘fake cultivation method’ had something to do with the number nine.

Suddenly he recalled the ‘Nine-turn Golden Pill Method’ stored in the Demon Slaying Division’s library. He had ignored it at the time, having accidentally obtained the ‘Heaven-supporting Demon Suppression Technique.’

He considered retrieving that method at a suitable opportunity.

But for now, he was not impatient.

He Chang’an was never greedy.

He now possessed three cultivation paths, yet had not truly mastered any: the Qi Absorption Technique, a basic martial method; the Heaven-supporting Demon Suppression Technique, likely a demon clan method; and the so-called ‘Sword Seed’ nurturing path.

After tasting the Ghost Wall wine brewed personally by Lord Zheng, He Chang’an realized what true good wine was, what depths hid within a cup. Though made from pure grain, the technique altered the spirit of the drink, just as a peerless sword is defined by whose hand wields it.

Sword intent lies in the heart.

That is the wonder of Ghost Wall wine.

It also made He Chang’an understand how arduous the path of cultivation truly is.

“The Qi Absorption Technique tempers flesh, bone, and organs; the Demon Suppression Technique, too, is a profound body-refining method. The two could actually be combined…”

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He Chang’an closed his eyes, inventorying the items in his storage pouch one by one, producing some pills, spiritual materials, and an array diagram.

These things were all obtained through Mr. Lü’s logical bargaining: treasures from the Daoist sects, martial cultivation materials—any one among them was of considerable value.

He performed two cycles of the major and minor circulation to calm himself, then began to study the Heaven-supporting Demon Suppression Technique in his mind.

Had anyone been present, they would have seen two pale white serpent-dragons slither slowly from his nostrils, circle around, then dissolve into spirit mist entering his mouth, eyes, and ears.

His breath was deep and steady, like dragons coiled and tigers crouched.

…

Another month passed.

He Chang’an finally broke through the bottleneck, bringing his Qi Absorption Technique to level thirty-seven.

This was a good omen—seven up, eight down—even the nobles and wealthy merchants of Chang’an City held an inexplicable superstition about the number seven.

Seven floors became the Star-plucking Tower, nine the Demon Suppression Tower;

There were also seven concubines, seven potent supplements, seven ingenious hearts—on and on, without end.

Of course, He Chang’an had little interest in such nonsense.

His greatest happiness now was finally refining spiritual energy, righteous energy, and demon energy into a single essence.

The moment the three distinct energies merged, He Chang’an could not help but groan in comfort, though a strange sense of crisis accompanied it.

“Is this unprecedented, bizarre cultivation outcome a sign of going astray?”

He considered asking Lord Zheng, but each time hesitated, never voicing the matter.

Because the Little Black Rod solved all problems—

He Chang’an was shocked to find that, when he eagerly tried to connect his mind to the Little Black Rod and test whether this new energy could enhance his sword intent…

The rod, slightly thicker than a toothpick, began to devour wildly. In just a dozen breaths, every bit of his hard-earned reserves vanished.

The Little Black Rod thickened by at least three or five times. Though He Chang’an’s cultivation level did not drop, not a single trace of ‘spiritual energy’ remained within him.

Worst of all, when he tried to ‘freeload’ some sinister energy, it too was devoured.

Likewise, in meditation, as he circulated his energy, the Little Black Rod devoured whatever he absorbed…

…

The Little Black Rod had become a bottomless pit, leaving He Chang’an completely at a loss.

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His greatest worry was that all the spiritual energy and righteous power he once relied upon had vanished, making him essentially hollow inside—perhaps just tougher than an ordinary practitioner.

If he went outside now, or faced a dangerous task, He Chang’an would surely perish.

Still, he held a faint hope for that gluttonous rod, wondering if he truly was a ‘Sword Seed,’ and the Little Black Rod his flying sword…

Those who have suffered most gain the greatest resolve to endure, especially when their own life is at stake, which unleashes a stubborn strength.

He Chang’an decided: he would not leave the Demon Suppression Tower, no matter what.

He also resolved to keep refining, take pills, and try to satisfy the Little Black Rod, while beginning to temper his body.

Normally, a martial artist’s path goes: first, using Qi Absorption and similar techniques to open the dantian and spiritual sea, connect the eight extraordinary meridians, and cultivate the ‘first breath’ of a martialist.

Next, advancing to the ninth rank, one begins body refinement—medicine baths, tempering, marrow cleansing—to forge bronze skin, iron bones, golden heart, and copper courage, ultimately reaching the Buddhist ‘Diamond Realm.’

If he truly cultivated a flying sword and became a so-called ‘Sword Cultivator,’ while remaining an utterly crude martialist, and also possessed righteous energy…

The thought alone was exhilarating.

What is a trump card? He Chang’an believed a trump card was something that confused his opponents and could kill unexpectedly.

“Ah, he’s a sword cultivator—beware his flying sword!”

But up close, a single punch blows his enemy’s head apart—what a spectacle.

“Just a crude martialist, tough skin, nothing more.”

Take them off guard—a sword through the heart…

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PS: Recommended novel—Chronicles of Flame Martial Descending

The blood-stained starry ancient road points toward return.

The fractured cosmic wall is the first barrier.

The mountain of corpses and ocean of bones on the far shore is the wrathful cry of the Flame God.

The tide of mechs roars in fury, cosmic essence bursts through the heavens.

Will the sacrifice of your kin ignite the raging battle spirit within you!