Chapter 61: The Spirit Swallow Technique

“Th-thank you…”

The young woman could barely breathe now; the corrosion from the shadow curse was advancing far faster than he had anticipated.

At that moment, Wei Cheng swiftly activated the Flame Ring, his hands instantly shrouded in fire as he pressed them against her chest.

A burst of foul, scorched stench filled the air. The decay was happening at a horrifying speed.

Yet, amidst this, Wei Cheng felt a strange sense of familiarity. On Earth, in the outskirts of P City, when that alien demon invaded, its baring fangs and feigned ferocity—how eerily similar it was to this moment.

Though it appeared as if this woman’s body was entirely rotting, in truth, her fundamental power was still within her grasp. Otherwise, how could she still be alive?

Realizing this, Wei Cheng immediately conjured an Immovable Golden Bell, trapping them both within its protective barrier. Then, shielding himself with the Flame Ring, he channeled his inexhaustible Moving Mountain energy into her, as though it cost him nothing.

Would it work? Could it suppress the shadow curse? He didn’t know.

But Wei Cheng was well-versed in the principle of fighting his own fight regardless of the enemy’s moves. Let the curse corrode as it will—he had no intention of truly saving this woman. If she died, the curse would die with her.

Whether the shadow curse had a will or consciousness was irrelevant to him.

Suddenly, Sister Zhao let out a blood-curdling scream. Her mouth stretched unnaturally wide, her features twisted grotesquely, and as she screamed, her rotting cheek fell away, hair coming loose, exposing the gleam of bone beneath.

The sight was horrifying, yet for a warrior of the innate realm, such wounds were nothing. This only confirmed Wei Cheng’s suspicion: the shadow curse’s corrosion was deeply deceptive. The external, non-lethal pain sent the target into panic and confusion, making them forget or fumble their internal power.

Sister Zhao likely succumbed because her skin’s total collapse shattered her psychological defenses.

“Damn it, what’s the origin of this shadow curse? It even employs biochemical and psychological warfare,” Wei Cheng thought, though he increased the pace at which he infused her with Moving Mountain energy.

This time, he finally touched the core of Sister Zhao’s dantian. As he suspected, only about three-fifths of her Lingyan internal energy had been depleted; the rest was locked away, severed and isolated.

She must have first been disfigured, then had her prized fair skin destroyed, and with the intense pain of corrosion, her mind broke. Otherwise, as long as she maintained her Lingyan energy, she wouldn’t have collapsed so soon—this was only the second wave of the shadow curse. The power of sixty years’ worth of Lingyan energy could not be that feeble.

Having deduced this, Wei Cheng finally breathed a sigh of relief—he had been terrified before.

“Focus on your dantian, regulate your breathing and mind. All external things are but smoke and clouds.”

“Master your Lingyan energy. Stop letting your thoughts run wild. If you can’t break free of this external prison, no one can help you,” Wei Cheng said gravely, using his Moving Mountain energy to gently guide her Lingyan energy, painstakingly restoring the proper circulation.

The Lingyan energy strongly repelled his Moving Mountain energy, proving that practicing multiple arts simultaneously was just a dream. But despite the resistance, Wei Cheng could force his way through; Sister Zhao, now terrified out of her wits, instinctively followed his lead.

So, when her Lingyan energy completed a full, albeit stumbling, circulation, Wei Cheng easily grasped the rhythm and route of the Lingyan technique. It was a path entirely different in trajectory, tempo, and transformation from the Moving Mountain method. Apart from the shared dantian, there was no overlap at all.

Wei Cheng was astonished—how many secrets might the human body conceal? How vast a world could it contain?

As he pondered, he sensed a shift: with Sister Zhao regaining her composure, she also regained some control over her Lingyan energy, unconsciously channeling it at a higher level.

In other words, she summoned the Lingyan Visualization.

Wei Cheng had no time to withdraw—he was forced to observe, a reluctant guest. In truth, he could have exited at any time, but the opportunity was too precious, especially since Sister Zhao, still trembling, endured the strong repulsion between their energies and unwittingly allowed Wei Cheng to secretly learn her technique.

Astonishingly, she had refined her Lingyan Visualization to seventy or eighty percent completion—a truly formidable practitioner, if not for her fragile psyche.

After a long while, Wei Cheng slowly withdrew his Moving Mountain energy and lifted his hands. In the end, he had saved Sister Zhao.

“Is there any more Osmanthus Wine? Give her two more jars.”

Leaving this instruction, Wei Cheng took a jar of Osmanthus Wine from his pack and drank it in one gulp. Then, he sat cross-legged to meditate—he could hardly wait to try.

He had always believed that the three professions could not be practiced together, the mutual repulsion of their energies too great to ever reconcile. Yet he never expected the meridian path of the Lingyan technique to be entirely distinct.

So he had to try—who says a fat man can’t be nimble? Besides, he was no longer fat.

As the Osmanthus Wine entered his belly, its spiritual potency blazed through him like fire from head to toe, every cell exulting in joy.

Wei Cheng had no idea how earthly science would explain this phenomenon. Yet his spiritual sense instantly calculated it precisely.

The energy from this single jar of Osmanthus Wine could provide him with sixty years’ worth of high-quality Moving Mountain energy. He could survive for 129 days without food, water, or even air.

Moreover, this energy, converted to Moving Mountain power, would allow him to use the Path of Non-contention every three hours, or to cast the Immovable Golden Bell four times in succession.

Alternatively, he could run five hundred kilometers at a speed of one hundred kilometers per hour, all in one go.

That was his definition of this Osmanthus Wine.

Now, his body—and the Moving Mountain technique—were intimately familiar with this high-quality energy. If he wished, he could convert it into Moving Mountain energy in ten seconds.

But now, Wei Cheng intended to use this energy to train in the Lingyan technique.

With his spiritual power focused and breath steady, free of inner conflict, he was ready in an instant.

He took the first daring step.

No one knew how to build a true foundation. When Wei Cheng and the others first entered the dream, everything was guided by the Transmission Stele, and they fumbled their way into the basics of the techniques. In reality, this step would take years, even under a master’s tutelage—it would never be so easy.

Such is the power of immortals.

Now, Wei Cheng had to complete this step himself.

In this moment of absolute silence, Wei Cheng even forgot his own ‘self,’ forgot the Moving Mountain technique, forgot everything.

This was not a matter of profound cultivation, but simply the result of strong spiritual power, able to actively block distractions.

He ‘saw’ a mass of fire burning in a furnace, surging and circulating vigorously—the energy from the Osmanthus Wine.

All around was void; there was no body, only emptiness. The fire’s light didn’t reveal brightness or darkness, nor any clear path.

This was natural—who can fully comprehend their own body? However powerful the spiritual sense, one could only ever perceive the traces left by Moving Mountain energy.

Everything was just the tracks left by energy.

So-called inner vision revealed only these traces—he had never glimpsed a true inner world within himself.

The meridians seemed to appear from nowhere and vanish without a trace, completely beyond logic.

Thus, he needed a new path.

That was what Sister Zhao gave him—a new path.

Wei Cheng’s awareness reached into the furnace, drawing forth a thread of fire, touching gently upon the surrounding void.

Not a blind touch, but precisely the first innate meridian path depicted in the Lingyan Visualization.

Indeed, the innate meridians refined through Moving Mountain and those of the Lingyan technique never crossed.

A wave of coolness, pure as water, flowed through him. In that instant, Wei Cheng knew he was on the right path.