Chapter Forty-Eight: The Blow of Wealth

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Zhou Xuanhong regarded Cong Yushu before him with grave caution. Though his opponent’s strength might not match Han Yuan or Bai Youxuan, and indeed was even less than that of the Yin Corpse Sect disciple slain by Han Yuan earlier, he was nevertheless a genuine Foundation Establishment cultivator of the third level, and a remarkable one at that.

To face him head-on would be too dangerous. Zhou Xuanhong had even considered forfeiting the match outright, but the Golden-eyed Beast’s essence blood in Da Xi’s possession was something he simply could not let slip away. For a cultivator like him, whose main path was the cultivation of the divine soul, it was a peerless tonic.

“Fellow Daoist Zhou, are you ready? I’m about to make my move!” Cong Yushu’s hands formed into claws, the flame pattern on his left wrist and the plant pattern on his right erupting with red and green light. The patterns transformed into two pills, each the size of an eyeball—one exuding abundant fire element, the other wood. By combining the two through the principle of wood generating fire, the fire element’s power soared dramatically.

“This move was originally meant to deal with the Yin Corpse Sect’s army of corpse puppets, but it seems it won’t be necessary for that after all. Junior Zhou, if you find yourself outmatched, you can always surrender!” He truly had no wish to harm Zhou Xuanhong, but the imperative of the Supreme Order left him no choice. Circumstances forced his hand.

Crackling and popping erupted as the fire pill released a condensed flame, while the wood pill surged with energy. Countless vines sprang swiftly from the ground, enveloping the entire arena in a seamless cocoon. The fireball exploded, and in an instant, the whole stage became a sea of flames, waves of blistering heat sweeping outwards.

This move was not particularly complex, a simple combination attack, but it was quick to cast and devastating in force. Had the Yin Corpse Sect truly launched a tide of corpses, this technique would have been a resounding success.

As the vines spread, Zhou Xuanhong, relying on his formidable spiritual sense, noticed the anomaly on the ground a split second earlier. He leaped onto his sword, escaping the firestorm’s reach just as it was about to engulf him.

Patting out the flames from his robes, Zhou Xuanhong exclaimed, “Wow—Fellow Daoist Cong, you really wield fire and wood with mastery! I nearly fell for your technique. That casting speed—did you seal it in those spell pills beforehand? Seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it?”

Cong Yushu, now standing upon two wind-element spell pills that carried him into the air, replied with a laugh, “Haven’t won yet, have I? That soul-shifting technique of yours from earlier was interesting. Why not use it on me?”

Zhou Xuanhong sighed. “Such a powerful spell? Hardly! It’s riddled with limitations. Not only is your cultivation above mine, but even if you were at the Qi Refining stage, as long as you were prepared, success would be far from certain. Fellow Daoist Cong, since you’ve given me the courtesy, allow me to return the favor—take this!”

Having heard Zhou Xuanhong’s explanation, Cong Yushu shifted to a defensive stance, a pill of earth element circling around him.

Zhou Xuanhong was momentarily surprised, then flashed a mischievous grin. Since his opponent was being so polite, he would show no mercy in return.

Sensing trouble, Cong Yushu readied himself to strike first, but Zhou Xuanhong was already in motion, flinging out a barrage of single-use talismans.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Bang! Bang! Bang! Crack! Crack! Crack! Roar! Roar! Roar! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

A torrent of talismans, powerful artifacts, and rare treasures—all spent as if they cost nothing—erupted in a dazzling display. Five-element techniques roared, wide-area destructive talismans blazed, spiritual energy took shape, offensive and defensive artifacts, countless magical implements and treasures, formation disks of the first to third grade—anything that could explode and cause damage was hurled by Zhou Xuanhong in rapid succession, giving Cong Yushu no chance to counterattack. The sky was filled with brilliant detonations, so much so that disciples resting on the other two arenas were startled and left gaping in astonishment.

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The explosions continued for nearly a full minute before subsiding. Everyone was left stupefied, even the Golden Core experts like Xuan Qizi and Wei Cangyuan showing involuntary twitches on their faces.

“Whew, he’s probably not dead, right?” Zhou Xuanhong finally stopped, looking somewhat fatigued. Unleashing so many treasures in a single, unbroken wave had left even him a bit worn out, though much of it was an act—seven parts show, three parts real exhaustion.

At the foot of a distant mountain, Cong Yushu lay barely clinging to life, consciousness lost, his body battered and miserable beyond description. The once-dashing youth was now a pitiful wreck—hair singed, features twisted, clothes in tatters, skin marred all over, fragments of self-detonated spirit tools embedded throughout. Yet, miraculously, his life was spared.

Around him, three shattered, lifeless spell pills lay dim, their spirit spent. Several others were nowhere to be found, likely destroyed in the storm of explosions.

“What prodigal extravagance! Today, I’ve truly seen a lesson in wealth-based devastation!”

“No wonder he’s a true disciple—such deep pockets! Now I see why ‘wealth’ stands first among the Four Essentials of cultivation. Envy!”

“Pity the pill cultivator—wasting good pills to court death. He has only himself to blame!”

The flames on the arena, deprived of spiritual energy, faded away. Zhou Xuanhong flew overhead on his sword, sweeping the area clean with a spell but not daring to set foot upon the scorched stage—it was simply too hot.

“Anyone else?” Zhou Xuanhong shouted with great swagger, as if he’d won through sheer martial prowess, his confidence soaring.

In truth, Cong Yushu’s defeat was a bitter one. Had he not been misled by Zhou Xuanhong’s earlier words, shifting to defense at the wrong moment and leaving himself open to attack, he could have relied on his wind-element spell pills to dodge swiftly through the air—Zhou Xuanhong would have been hard-pressed to deal with him.

But it was too late now. The Yin Corpse Sect and the Songshan Sword Pavilion no longer had any Foundation Establishment early-stage disciples. The Five-Spirit Pill Valley had always been few in number, with only two each at the middle and late stages, and a single early-stage disciple, now eliminated. Only disciples of the Form Transmutation Sect remained to challenge Zhou Xuanhong’s victory—and who among them dared? With Xuan Qizi’s spiritual sense fully unleashed, any sect member who dared move would be instantly suppressed.

A quarter of an hour slipped by in silence. Zhou Xuanhong relaxed, sprawling carelessly atop his flying sword, clutching three storage pouches with a look of pained affection.

His battle with Cong Yushu had emptied his reserves, leaving him with only a tenth of his treasures.

Yet his grief was mostly feigned. After all, these were all gifts from Xuan Qizi, and it would be a waste not to use them. Who knew—perhaps some still bore Xuan Qizi’s spiritual imprint? Using them brought peace of mind; they were all just external things, after all.

Others, however, could not understand Zhou Xuanhong’s “one thousand for two thousand” approach—sacrificing himself more than his enemy. The value of the treasures he’d thrown away far exceeded that of the Golden-eyed Beast’s essence blood and the two corpse puppets—a terrible bargain.

Wei Cangyuan retrieved the barely breathing Cong Yushu, feeding him healing pills and saving his life.

“Fellow Daoist Xu, it looks like you intend to make this disciple your successor. With all those treasures, you could have bought the Corpse Mountain Old Devil’s corpse puppets outright!”

Xuan Qizi replied with a hint of pride, “Not at all. As the head of a sect, this is but a trifle.”

Wei Cangyuan infused wood-element energy into Cong Yushu for healing and said with a smile, “To give your disciple due credit, his soul is truly powerful. To unleash such a barrage of treasures without pause—no ordinary early Foundation Establishment cultivator could achieve that. He is indeed worthy of the Form Transmutation Sect’s secret art, the ‘Form Transmutation Codex.’”

“Heh.”

Having secured his victory, Zhou Xuanhong left the arena and bowed before Xuan Qizi. “Master, though I was unscathed in today’s two battles, my soul is greatly depleted and I must rest. I ask to return to the Sect Master’s Peak for recuperation.”

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Xuan Qizi nodded. “You performed admirably today. I am pleased. When the trial ends, I’ll have a further reward for you. Go now.”

“Thank you, Master!”

“No need to wait. Even if your soul is damaged, take this essence blood as your prize. Perhaps it will help you ascend even higher!” With a wave of his hand, Da Xi tossed a vial of Golden-eyed Beast essence blood to Zhou Xuanhong.

“Many thanks, Senior!”

Da Xi smiled. “No need to thank me; this is rightfully yours.”

As Zhou Xuanhong departed the martial arena, a graceful figure blocked his path—it was Bai Youxuan.

“Fellow Daoist Zhou, could you teach me how to cultivate such depth of mind? I feel like your mind runs deep—please, teach me!”

Faced with Bai Youxuan’s coquettish tone, Zhou Xuanhong could only reply helplessly, “Fellow Daoist Bai, you jest. I’m not yet twenty—what depth could I possibly have? Defeating you was just a matter of a few simple tricks.”

Bai Youxuan insisted, “You must! Even when a beautiful girl like me acts coy, you’re unmoved. Don’t tell me you lack depth!”

“Er…” Zhou Xuanhong realized she might have a point.

A persistent woman is troublesome, especially one far stronger than himself—there was no shaking her off.

Just then, Xu Yuhan came running over to rescue him.

“Hey, witch, stop pestering my junior brother. His soul is greatly depleted—and as for depth, he has none. The only reason he’s unmoved by your beauty is because his heart already belongs to someone else. Do you understand the power of love?”

Bai Youxuan looked puzzled. “The power of love? What power does love have? Can it help you cultivate depth of mind?”

“Uh…” Now even Xu Yuhan was at a loss. This witch, though absurdly powerful, was childish beyond measure—completely at odds with her status and age. She truly was a nascent spirit born of the flesh!

Zhou Xuanhong smiled. “Are you worried that, without depth, you’ll be bullied when you join the Supreme Yin Corpse Sect?”

Bai Youxuan nodded enthusiastically, her eyes full of admiration. “Exactly! You’re so clever—right again! The old men in my sect say I lack mental maturity and need more experience. Otherwise, when I go to the Supreme Yin Corpse Sect, I’ll be bullied to death.”

Zhou Xuanhong nodded. “You do need more experience. But don’t worry—I’ll be going to the Supreme Yin Corpse Sect soon to find someone. I’ll help you then. For now, let me teach you about cultivating depth of mind.”

“Mm-hmm, I’m listening.”

Zhou Xuanhong began, “Those with depth of mind fall into two categories: those born with it, and those who acquire it. As a nascent spirit, you likely lack the former. As for the latter, it’s a long process—hard to explain in a few words. I’ll give you a jade slip. Take your time to comprehend it. For now, I must rest my soul.”

Handing her a jade slip, Zhou Xuanhong soared toward the Sect Master’s Peak. As beautiful as she was, the girl was a veritable demon. Best not to show too much friendliness in public.