Chapter Eighty-One: Solidifying Essence

By the time Fang Xiao returned to the Daoist temple, it was nearly dawn.

The Daoist priest Pang, who had brought Fang Xiao back, was yawning incessantly. His eyes were bleary and half-closed, as though he could fall asleep at any moment. He abandoned Fang Xiao and shuffled off to his bedroom. Within moments, Fang Xiao could hear the resounding snores echoing through the door into the small courtyard.

Hoo—chih—hum—ha—

The cacophony cycled on and on, rhythmic and unending.

Fang Xiao mused that perhaps the reason Madam Qin had not been moved by the priest’s devotion was simply that she had once heard him sleeping.

Shaking his head, Fang Xiao returned to his own room. Unlike the Daoist priest, he felt not the slightest trace of drowsiness.

[Red Sun Codex]
[Unshakable in Ten Thousand Arts, Impervious to All Laws, Untouched by All Evil]
[Dragon-Tiger Stance (Perfected)]
[Demon-Subduing Fist (Transcendent): 2/160]
[Lin Family Spear (Mastered): 3/80]
[Long River Sunset Spear (Proficient): 0/40]
[Soul-Reaping Phantom Whip (Proficient): 5/40]
[Experience: 217]
[…]

After a night of fierce battle, Fang Xiao had harvested over two hundred experience points—a most gratifying result. Moreover, several of his martial arts had gained in proficiency through the night’s encounters. Of particular note, “Long River Sunset Spear” had advanced to the proficient level. Though he had been only a point or two away before, it was further proof that Fang Xiao’s own efforts were never in vain.

Without the slightest hesitation, he poured 158 experience points into “Demon-Subduing Fist,” instantly raising the fist technique to its utmost realm!

[Demon-Subduing Fist (Perfected)]

Yet after waiting a moment, the expected phenomenon did not occur. There was no sudden influx of martial knowledge, no entrancement in a dream from which he could not wake.

Fang Xiao checked the Red Sun Codex again. The fist technique now displayed as perfected, and could not accept any more experience points. Scratching his head in puzzlement, he let it go. Fang Xiao had never been one to fret over overly complex matters.

As for the remaining experience points, he considered his options. He did not choose to invest them in “Lin Family Spear,” “Long River Sunset Spear,” or “Soul-Reaping Phantom Whip.” With both “Dragon-Tiger Stance” and “Demon-Subduing Fist” perfected, Fang Xiao could now study the orthodox portion of the “Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art.” For a long time to come, this Qianyang method would be his fundamental practice, far more important than any martial technique.

Most crucially—

Despite the night’s significant gains, in truth, Fang Xiao’s harvest in the latter half of the night was much less than in the first. On one hand, Priest Pang forbade him from entering the core of the haunted burial ground, fearing unpredictable dangers. On the other, those lantern wraiths that only gave one point of experience—whenever Fang Xiao drew near, they extinguished their lights and scattered at great speed!

Thus, his later conquests were meager.

Priest Pang had provided a reasonable explanation: after Fang Xiao had slain a number of lantern wraiths, a baleful aura had gathered about him. This miasma, though invisible and intangible, did not conflict with his unique body constitution. Even though lantern wraiths were the lowest kind of evil spirit, they possessed a glimmer of sentience. From afar, they instinctively sensed the danger radiating from Fang Xiao and refused to deliver themselves to death.

The same principle would apply to other evil spirits and demons. In short, the more monsters and fiends Fang Xiao slew, the more those of their kind would fear him. Not only that, but he would also attract the enmity and attention of more powerful demons.

Priest Pang’s explanation resolved one of Fang Xiao’s longstanding doubts. In recent days, he had returned to Ten-Mile Slope, but not even a blade of grass had yielded itself to him. So that was the reason!

Though he could no longer enjoy ceaselessly slaying lesser monsters for easy experience, Fang Xiao felt that his path lay in ever-greater challenges against formidable demons and spirits. Only such a life of battle held true meaning!

He tucked the Red Sun Codex back inside his robe, pressing it close to his heart. Then he took out the “Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art” manual from his satchel—two volumes in all.

Seated on a stool beneath the dim lamp, Fang Xiao read the text line by line, word by word.

The blackest hour before dawn quietly passed. A pale light crept up the eastern sky, and the crowing of roosters rose from Zhenjia Village at the foot of the mountain. Wisps of smoke soon trailed from the village chimneys as diligent farmers, hoes slung over their shoulders, made their way along country paths.

When the first rays of morning sunlight shone on the bronze incense burner in the courtyard of the Little Jing Mountain Temple, Fang Xiao suddenly awoke.

He found himself slumped over the table; the oil lamp beside him had long since burned dry. His hands were empty.

“Ah!” Fang Xiao started in alarm. Fortunately, out of the corner of his eye he spied the thick manual lying at his feet. He hastily bent to pick it up, carefully wiping the dust from the cover, his heart aching with regret.

A reverence for books was etched deep into Fang Xiao’s bones, unshaken even in this new world.

Only then did he recall that he had stayed up all night, hastily flipping through both volumes of the “Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art.” At some point, he had drifted into a deep sleep.

Fang Xiao dreamed again.

In his dream, he sometimes became a roaring tiger dashing through the mountains, sometimes a mighty dragon soaring among the clouds. He played, hunted, battled…

Though his slumber had been brief, it felt as if he had lived through decades or centuries.

Fang Xiao even doubted whether he was not truly that tiger and dragon, roaming mountains and rivers, free and unrestrained beyond law or heaven!

Upon waking, the memories of the dream quickly settled into the depths of his consciousness. Golden words appeared before his mind’s eye, rapidly forming into the familiar yet unfamiliar formulas of the martial art.

Fang Xiao stared, momentarily stunned. Instinctively, he pressed his hand to his chest and opened his life-bound treasure.

[Red Sun Codex]
[Unshakable in Ten Thousand Arts, Impervious to All Laws, Untouched by All Evil]
[Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art: Origin Condensation Chapter (Proficient): 79/200]
[Lin Family Spear (Mastered): 3/80]
[Long River Sunset Spear (Proficient): 0/40]
[Soul-Reaping Phantom Whip (Proficient): 5/40]
[Experience: 59]
[…]

The perfected “Dragon-Tiger Stance” had vanished. Likewise, the perfected “Demon-Subduing Fist” was gone. In their place was an entirely new cultivation method!

In the next instant, all the words in Fang Xiao’s mind faded into nothingness. His internal organs shuddered in unison, and suddenly the sound of thunder echoed within his body!

A surge of pure Qianyang Dragon-Tiger energy arose, bursting through the crown of his head and shattering an invisible barrier!

In that moment, Fang Xiao understood—he had truly stepped into the Origin Condensation realm.

As the “Dragon-Tiger Stance” and “Demon-Subduing Fist” were the foundation of the “Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art,” they naturally merged into the profound orthodox method and were no longer displayed separately.

[Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Art: Origin Condensation Chapter]

Reading the manual through the night, he had entered the art directly and ascended to new heights!

Fang Xiao could not help but clench his fists, sensing an unprecedented strength surging within him. Yet, a small doubt lingered in his heart: before this, had he truly reached the Tempering Body stage, or was he already at Origin Condensation?