Chapter Thirty-Five: Golden Finger

"That's basically how it is."

After finishing his explanation about the Body of Severed Magic, Taoist Pang sneaked a glance at Fang Xiao, almost unconsciously. He had concealed this matter from Fang Xiao before, and now he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, as if he were a thief caught in the act. He worried that Fang Xiao would be angry, disappointed, or even fall into despair. After all, being unable to cultivate immortality meant his lifespan would be little different from that of an ordinary person.

Yet Fang Xiao simply scratched his head. "Oh."

"Oh?" Taoist Pang was nearly driven mad. "What do you mean, 'oh'?"

Fang Xiao gave him a puzzled look. "It means I understand."

Taoist Pang smacked his shiny bald forehead. "I give up!"

He sighed deeply, then spoke earnestly to Fang Xiao, "Fang Xiao, you must understand—life is as fleeting as autumn grass, and the life of a mortal is terribly short. Only by entering the Dao can one attain longevity!"

Fang Xiao blinked and countered, "Have you attained immortality?"

Taoist Pang was momentarily stunned. Immortality was the dream every cultivator yearned for. Throughout history, countless cultivators had pursued this wish at all costs, some even descending into madness. Many lost themselves to heretical paths because of it. Yet how many had actually succeeded?

He let out a self-deprecating laugh. All his decades of cultivation, and his heart was still not as clear and untroubled as this young man before him. Fang Xiao clearly didn't care that he couldn't cultivate, nor did he seem to find immortality all that important. Perhaps it was the impetuousness of youth, but Taoist Pang could sense the steadfast resilience in Fang Xiao's heart.

"Master Taoist, being able to learn martial arts is already wonderful for me," Fang Xiao said sincerely. "I know you care about me, but I can protect myself!"

Taoist Pang paused. Silently, he drew a cigarette from his sleeve, lit it, and took a deep drag. Then he waved his hand. "Go take a bath. You reek. Get some sleep!"

"Alright." Fang Xiao slipped away to the kitchen. He still wasn't used to seeing Master Taoist act so earnestly.

After Fang Xiao left, Taoist Pang finished his Big Front Gate cigarette and began toying with the Soul Capturing Bell, growing fonder of it the more he handled it. He had seen at a glance that this was no ordinary artifact. Now, appreciating it up close, he sensed an ancient aura woven into its craftsmanship, and his joy increased all the more. Even among imitation magical treasures, this was a first-rate piece—ordinary cultivators couldn't afford such a thing.

Taoist Pang estimated it was worth at least several thousand spirit stones! It truly was a marvel.

His delight was tinged with puzzlement. The Lord of Zikan from the Western Ridge of Little Jing Mountain—the rat demon Fang Xiao had slain—was someone he had never dealt with directly, but whose existence he knew of. Yet Taoist Pang had no idea the rat demon possessed such a treasure as the Soul Capturing Bell.

Could it be...

He thoughtfully stroked his chin. Rat demons are best at burrowing, and love to dig intricate tunnels throughout their territory—partly out of instinct, partly for safety. Sometimes, in the course of their digging, they stumble upon unexpected fortunes: perhaps a heavenly herb, or perhaps the abandoned lair of a cultivator. It was entirely possible that the Lord of Zikan had acquired this ancient treasure in just such a manner.

If the rat demon had wielded the Soul Capturing Bell against Taoist Pang himself, it would have been quite a struggle. Yet it had chosen to attack Fang Xiao, who possessed a Body of Severed Magic.

"Given the chance, you still couldn't make use of it!" Taoist Pang laughed aloud, resolving to search the Western Ridge for the demon's lair at first light—there might be further surprises hidden there. His heart soared with delight, and he began to feel that Fang Xiao truly was his lucky star.

Wait!

A sudden thought jolted Taoist Pang. He had always blamed fate, envied Fang Xiao for crossing worlds with magical artifacts and gaining experience by slaying monsters, even suspected he was Fang Xiao's grandfather. But now, he wondered—could it be that Fang Xiao was actually his own long-awaited golden opportunity?

After all, Taoist Pang had spent years at the Little Jing Mountain temple without ever encountering any such good fortune. Since Fang Xiao arrived, however, he'd acquired a turtle shield fragment, consumed a potent spirit peach, and now obtained this rare Soul Capturing Bell—all in rapid succession.

He was making an incredible profit!

Taoist Pang's face alternated between red and pale, and for a time, he was utterly speechless.

While the master’s emotions flickered, Fang Xiao, newly sunk into the bath, opened the Scarlet Sun Codex. Having recently slain the rat demon, he'd earned another seventy-three experience points, bringing his total to an impressive two hundred sixty-nine.

Unable to contain his excitement, Fang Xiao invested eighty points into the Dragon-Tiger Stance.

[Dragon-Tiger Stance (Transcendent): 0/160]

Yet, at that very moment, he was unable to see the information that appeared before his eyes.

His consciousness instantly detached from his body, plunging into a mysterious, ineffable state. Only the roar of a tiger and the cry of a dragon snapped him back to awareness.

He "saw" himself standing atop a mist-shrouded hill. A striped, mighty tiger crouched upon a massive rock, raising its head in a furious glare at a golden dragon suspended overhead. Though neither the tiger nor the dragon moved, the scene seemed frozen in time, the force emanating from them was surging and turbulent, colliding and intertwining, sweeping out in all directions.

Standing between them, Fang Xiao witnessed their confrontation with his own eyes, feeling the clash of their auras, and suddenly, a thread of enlightenment emerged in his heart.

In an instant, he comprehended the profound essence of the Dragon-Tiger Stance!

With a crisp "crack," a blazing surge of energy shot from the tip of his tailbone, rising up along his spine, directly to the crown of his head.

The next moment, all visions vanished. Fang Xiao found himself once more soaking in the bath, as if nothing at all had happened. But he knew he had stepped into a higher realm with the Dragon-Tiger Stance.

Unlike before, however, this breakthrough brought no expelled impurities, nor did it leave him hungry—only a considerable drain on his spirit.

He exhaled deeply and began scrubbing himself with a towel.

In truth, the experience points stored in the Scarlet Sun Codex were enough to further upgrade the Dragon-Tiger Stance. Yet at this moment, Fang Xiao had no such intention. Even the Demon Subduing Fist would have to wait.

He had realized that the higher the level of a technique, the greater the demands upon body and spirit. One needed time to adapt between each stage of advancement. That, he believed, was the wisest approach.

At this moment, Fang Xiao did not know that, although the Dragon-Tiger Stance was only the foundation of the Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art, since the art’s creation, very few had ever trained the stance to the transcendent realm—such practitioners were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

Most who cultivated the Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art would never spend so much time and effort on its basic form, grinding away day after day, year after year.

Yet here was Fang Xiao, already an outlier.

What he was thinking, however, was far more practical: having trained the Dragon-Tiger Stance to this level, when he enrolled in the martial division of Liuhe Academy next month, would he still be crushed by those classmates who had passed the rigorous entrance exams?

Would he?

Fang Xiao was not at all confident.