Volume 2, Chapter 85 – Thunderclap (Two-in-One)

Without wasting time, Bai Xiang picked up Li Sheng’s manuscript and started reading. At once, a hazy murmur sounded in her mind.

“In primordial antiquity, when heaven first parted, the clear and the turbid split in two. Heaven gave birth, earth nurtured, and the twin aspects took form. Fearing no tribulation laws, seeking only to slay evil. Its thunder is clear, its water is turbid…”

It worked.

Bai Xiang’s gaze grew deeper.

Just as she had expected, as long as the person who wrote the manuscript—the original author—had a cultivation realm high enough and a soul strong enough, her soul-based talent could resonate directly with the residual spiritual will in the manuscript, letting her read the insights they’d had as they wrote.

Time was tight, so Bai Xiang simply multitasked. She handed off the job of recording the rigid, written content on the pages to “Jade Spirit,” while her own thoughts and mental core focused on listening to Li Sheng’s instruction.

This experience was even better than when she’d previously comprehended the Tiger-Subduing Arhat Stance. The phantom voice’s enunciation was extremely clear, which meant the spiritual imprint lingering on the pages was even more intact.

Silently, Bai Xiang compared Abbess Li Sheng with Monk Suizhen and still felt the latter’s cultivation was deeper.

Abbess Li Sheng was, after all, still alive, living in the same era as they were, and she’d kept this scripture on her person. That the imprint remained intact was only to be expected.

But the Tiger-Subduing Scripture was different. That book had been passed down from ancient times all the way to the present, even carried overseas to drift in foreign lands and end up in the hands of that wastrel Cerredo. In the meantime, it had gone through wear and tear, wind, water, and blistering sun.

Add the irresistible erosion of the years on top of that, and for it to still retain a spiritual imprint that could be inherited—Monk Suizhen was the real master, fully worthy of the phrase “terrifying to this degree.”

She wondered if he’d achieved what he’d hoped for.

Bai Xiang suddenly drifted off a little.

Monk Suizhen had also split off from his sect for the sake of that final goal of “longevity.” From that angle, the remnant soul entangled around Bolou’s body had a pretty high chance of being Suizhen himself.

Was it a situation like Chan Master Daokong’s?

Researching longevity, only to find nothing but despair at the end of the road. After his mind shattered, he began to be corrupted and fall, unknowingly becoming an undying, ageless soul-type Yaosui, clinging to existence through possession and body-snatching alone.

That was indeed the most likely development, but Bai Xiang didn’t want it to be that way.

For one simple reason: that development was really boring.

On the one hand, she hoped someone ahead of her had actually created a truly workable method of attaining longevity. That way she’d have a path to refer to and wouldn’t have to slog through the research herself.

On the other hand, she even more hoped that one day she’d be able to cross swords with Monk Suizhen in his prime—perhaps even with his master, Chan Master Jingling—so she could prove her own strength that way.

In comparison, a remnant soul would be utterly dull.

It was both stupid and fragile.

Just a light squeeze, and it would pop.

[Full Sword Canon recording complete.]

A thought along those lines came from Jade Spirit.

Bai Xiang stopped woolgathering, went through the “audio lesson” one more time, and realized this Sword Canon was truly a treasure.

Sword Daos differed in rank, but in terms of basic framework, they were more or less the same.

No one had yet told Bai Xiang how they were officially divided, but in her own view, practicing the Sword Dao boiled down to four things: heart, body, dao, and arts.

Heart meant the heart-aspect, with which a cultivator used their inner image to control the Demon Pool and sword.

Body meant the self— the flesh—and the branch-self— the sword. Throughout the Sword Dao realms, these two “bodies” were trained in alternation, and the further one went, the more emphasis was placed on tempering the flesh.

Dao meant the Demon Pool and the divine abilities connected to it, and also included unique heart-vessel charts that guided the flow of thought—things like Jade Spirit also fell under this.

And lastly, arts.

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If she had to give an example, it was actually a lot like an online game. Heart and body were a character’s basic stats. Dao was the character’s talent tree.

Arts were the skills.

For example, the Bai clan’s ancestral Shenming Sword Art.

And things like the Benling Thirty-Six Stance Arts and the Shangqing Wave-Sweeping Lightning-Drawing Sword Formula, which contained both dao and arts together.

Heart and body determined the base amount of energy you could potentially have. Your dao methods let you easily mobilize that energy—this was called “divine ability,” and it very directly influenced the amount of interference your energy could exert.

Arts were technique. They helped you drive that dao method more perfectly, speeding up its operation, enhancing how it manifested, and flinging it into the enemy’s face with greater efficiency.

It was a perfect fit—this Sword Canon Li Sheng had provided was practically a grand compendium of the path of “arts.”

She didn’t just go into detail on her own insights while practicing the Shangqing Sword; she also recorded nearly eighty percent of the Shangqing sword moves. On top of that, she wrote down a large number of “minor sect sword arts” at the level of the Seventy-Two Paths.

Lingfeng Sword Dao, Feihua Sword Dao, Qiuyue Sword Dao, Jingshui Sword Dao, Kanjin Sword Dao.

Including the Shangqing Sword, the Sword Canon recorded a total of fifty-eight sword arts.

None of them were complete, but every one was the refined essence Li Sheng had cherry-picked—she was only interested in the most exquisite sword moves, and her taste was brutally picky.

Which happened to be exactly what Bai Xiang needed at the moment.

As it happened, as Bai Xiang became Master Xiang Xian’s disciple and gradually deepened her understanding of Yuming Sword Dao, she’d come to realize that Yuming Sword Dao didn’t have any fixed “arts” at all.

If anything counted, it would be the Splitting-Light Multiple-Images Sword Formula, which had been created specifically to cooperate with Jade Spirit.

But in essence, it wasn’t an art. The fact that it could stack on top of other arts was proof of that.

Yuming Sword Dao was said to have “three thousand clever arts, five thousand wondrous methods,” and that really wasn’t an exaggeration. But probably because of Jade Spirit’s special nature, they never forced their true disciples to practice any particular sword art. Usually, they just picked a suitable one out of thousands of sword arts, so every true disciple could end up practicing completely different sword techniques.

Normally, there was nothing wrong with that.

But for whatever reason—whether deliberate or negligent—Xiang Xian had never taught Bai Xiang any specific sword art. That meant Bai Xiang’s current sword art—the Shenming Sword—had gradually started falling behind her cultivation, actually dragging down her combat strength.

Why had she jumped at the chance to read the Thirty-Six Stance Arts?

Because she wanted to patch this weak point.

The Dao of Heaven worked in mysterious ways. Abbess Li Sheng had interrupted Bai Xiang’s process of comprehending the path of arts, only to coincidentally deliver something even better.

Fifty-eight refined sword arts.

Thirty stance-based sword arts.

Plus Bai Xiang’s own Shenming Sword.

All of those sword moves were imprinted in her mind, again and again being broken down and reassembled with Jade Spirit’s help… cycling endlessly.

Meanwhile, she herself began directly comprehending the incantation from the “audio lesson.”

She started attempting to practice the supreme sword canon of the Shangqing Sword Dao—The Shangqing Wave-Sweeping Lightning-Drawing Sword Formula.

Boom—

The sky was dim; the rain was pouring.

Streak after streak of violet-blue lightning serpent slithered through the clouds, wrapped in a heaven-and-earth might that shook the soul, flashing and roaring without pause.

Crack!

A bolt of lightning slashed sharply across the sky above the dojo, lighting up the clouds in an instant, revealing the outline of a cicada demon.

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Boom!

Another one! But this time the silhouette of the clouds shifted, as if condensing into a fierce tiger, turning its head to roar.

Rumble, rumble…

Lightning, light, and thunder wove together overhead in a dense web, and from flat ground a sudden gale rose.

This strange weather made Zhou Jing’an furrow his brows slightly, a nameless unease rising in his heart.

“What’s wrong?”

At the bottom of the long steps, a straw-hatted youth turned his head back to look at him.

“We’re already at the door. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now?”

Cold feet?

Zhou Jing’an’s brows drew even tighter together. He slowly shook his head at the youth.

They’d come on this trip to uproot the problem; going home was not in his plans.

He was cautious by nature, and he was deeply afraid that what the Bai family girl had currently shown wasn’t her full strength. He’d even reached out to Zhengwo Dao and borrowed their Protector stationed in Chilong Circuit—Tong Bing.

Tong Bing, like himself, had tempered his qi to the Purple Core, and when they’d met a few years back he’d already been at the Second Turn.

Add in Zhou Jing’an himself, who was also Second Turn, and a mere Condensing the Aspect swordsman simply had no path to survival.

“You’re just too cautious.”

When he saw Zhou Jing’an shake his head, Tong Bing snorted and kept walking up the long stairs.

“Not only did you call me in, you even lured the old man from the Bai family away.”

“What, are you afraid we can’t handle a few more Condensing the Aspect cultivators? Two Saints and True Persons who’ve embraced the core can’t deal with two Condensing the Aspect brats? Say that out loud and people will die laughing.”

“…It’s different.”

The way he put it was amusing enough that Zhou Jing’an unconsciously relaxed his brow. He tried to justify himself with his words. “It’s just that she herself is very strange.”

“Strange how?” Tong Bing chuckled. “Condensing the Aspect at seventeen?”

“She isn’t your average Condensing the Aspect,” Zhou Jing’an shook his head. “The worst part about her is that bizarre cultivation speed of hers.”

Yes, that was the core reason he’d come in person.

Zhengwo Dao was originally that man’s power to begin with, and this time Bai Xiang had indeed piqued his interest. The Prince’s Manor had already issued formal orders for Tong Bing to wait until the other Protectors arrived before moving against the Bai family.

But Zhou Jing’an couldn’t wait that long.

He himself was in Chilong Circuit, and from the time his grandson Zhou Ji had run into trouble, he had basically watched Bai Xiang rise step by step.

Looked at as a whole, it was unbelievable… how long had it been since she’d Entered the Dao at Know the Self up to today?

Counting from the start of the term in September, not even three months.

Even if you included summer break, it was only five months at most, no more… it was pure Arabian Nights.

Even the Martial Star descending to the mortal world wouldn’t be more than this. Zhou Jing’an even found himself wondering if reincarnation truly existed—only that way could Bai Xiang’s abnormality be chalked up to awakening past-life wisdom.

She had too many secrets, and the threat she posed was too great.

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To shoot up to this height in just three to five months—Zhou Jing’an truly didn’t dare let Bai Xiang keep growing.

So he’d simply volunteered to join this operation, teamed up with Tong Bing as a pair, thereby fulfilling the Prince’s Manor’s minimum headcount requirement for this type of mission. He then shadowed Bai Xiang back to the Circuit City overnight and used the rainstorm as cover to make his move.

This rain, too, was perfectly timed.

Lifting the brim of his hat, Zhou Jing’an squinted up at the clouds.

There was little rain in late autumn, let alone something this torrential.

Even in the Lingnan region, this was rare—perfect for washing away traces of what they were about to do.

Gripping the Green Radiance Sword in his hand, Zhou Jing’an slowly exhaled a breath of foul air, starting to tune his state.

Tong Bing didn’t say anything else either. The two of them, dressed as wandering swordsmen, one ahead and one behind, climbed the steps, with the redwood gate plaque of Shenming Sword Dao above their heads.

The rain left no trace on them. At most it fell on their hats and bounced off. Any raindrops swept in toward them hit something like a membrane of qi and were flung to the sides. When they landed on the stone slabs, they even sliced shallow marks into them.

According to the information, after they walked this several dozen meters of bluestone path, they’d reach the so-called Shenming Dojo.

This place was really quite nice.

Zhou Jing’an glanced at the woods on both sides and felt that it was only natural that Chengfeng Sword Dao had once wanted to seize it.

“Clang!”

All of a sudden—he heard Tong Bing drawing his sword. He jerked his head toward the front and caught sight of Tong Bing’s thin figure half-crouched, one hand braced low on the ground, the other hand reaching up to the sword on his back, the blade already drawn out a fraction.

This was his habitual warning stance.

He only did this when facing a “real threat.”

“Who’s there?”

Tong Bing narrowed his eyes and barked into the air ahead.

“The Prince of Nanling’s Manor on official business!”

“If you don’t want trouble, get lost!”

Someone?

Zhou Jing’an peered carefully into the distance and indeed saw, on the far end of the bluestone path—standing in front of the Bai family’s main gate—a human silhouette.

He closed his eyes again and focused, and could vaguely sense a “qi presence” spreading out from that figure, shooting straight up into the ninth heaven and into the thunderclouds. The rain and lightning seemed to be moving in rhythm with that qi presence.

At least an expert of the same realm.

Zhou Jing’an reached his conclusion.

The figure stayed silent for a long while, so Zhou Jing’an stepped forward two paces to stand shoulder to shoulder with Tong Bing, and called out in a clear voice, “Might you be a friend from the Shangqing Dao?”

The figure still didn’t respond.

Not?

A faint unease crept into Zhou Jing’an’s heart.

This method of linking up with the thunderclouds really was that sect’s specialty. Cultivators of the same realm relied on this technique to gain huge boosts in stormy weather, to the point where they could even challenge opponents one or two realms higher.

That was why he was being so polite—since the other side held both heaven’s timing and the terrain’s advantage, he didn’t want any conflict unless it was necessary.

“Friend.”

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After a moment’s thought, he spoke again. “Whoever you are, you heard us. We’re acting on orders from the Prince’s Manor.”

“Bai Xiang of the Bai family may have saved your people, but in the end, her ties with you aren’t that deep.”

“To recklessly step in for the sake of such a small favor is not a wise choice.”

He hadn’t deliberately raised his voice, but it still carried a long, long way through the curtain of rain.

There was no way that figure hadn’t heard him, and yet he still didn’t respond.

“So you insist on interfering to the end, then?”

Tong Bing didn’t have that much patience. He licked his lips, qi beginning to gather around him.

All Purple Core.

And once again, two against one.

Finish off this blind fool quickly, then go in and deal with that little girl.

As he followed that thought downward, Tong Bing drifted a little.

In the Prince’s orders… he’d never said the target had to be taken alive, had he?

If life and death didn’t matter, then using the body a bit before she died wouldn’t count as breaking the rules, would it?

Countless memory fragments flickered through his mind—nothing more than images of women in pain, with that Madam Lian in particular being the most exciting.

Too bad she hadn’t held up to much play.

Sigh, mortals.

Here’s hoping that girl really has succeeded at body-refinement…

Crack!

A bolt of lightning cleaved the sky, cleanly lighting up that silhouette.

Two breaths instantly went ragged over here—especially Zhou Jing’an’s. His eyes went wide as he actually took a step back, a low growl escaping his lips. “…Impossible?”

That was Bai Xiang?

The one standing opposite them was Bai Xiang?

Clad in a white dress, white hair loose around her shoulders, she stood before the gate, one hand on her sword, those golden eyes meeting his.

His lips trembled. Zhou Jing’an finally realized he had still underestimated Bai Xiang.

“Kill her first.”

Forcing down the fear in his heart, he gave Tong Bing the order, one word at a time. Then he was the first to draw his sword and charge, the tip of his blade aimed straight at the figure ahead.

Boom!

Thunder rolled overhead in surging waves, as three strands of qi presence met in the rain.

Heaven and earth’s roar came at exactly the right moment.

So perfectly timed it felt as if it existed for nothing else but to witness this battle of the Core realm.