Chapter Nineteen: My Father, Han Yuanzheng

Zhou Qi patiently examined all the spirit beasts once more, ensuring he understood their feeding methods before finally stopping. He attempted to cultivate using the Lotus Mystic Skill, finding that the absorption speed of spiritual energy was indeed far faster than that of the Zhengyi Sect’s method, though still inferior to the Tianxuan True Art.

He had already reached the ninth layer of Qi Refining, and possessed a Foundation Establishment Pill. Zhou Qi was eager to improve his strength quickly; with his current supply of spirit stones, he should be able to cultivate to Foundation Establishment. Yet, gazing at the vibrant spiritual spring, Zhou Qi decided to try it first.

He sat cross-legged beside the small pool, circulating the Xuantian True Art. Spiritual energy rose ceaselessly from the cold spring, streaming into his dantian and sea of qi—it was actually possible to cultivate here, and the speed was not much less than using spiritual consciousness.

Delighted, Zhou Qi realized the spring was filled with inexhaustible spiritual energy, yet the water neither increased nor decreased. He stepped directly into the pool, sitting within it to cultivate in silence.

Three days later, Zhou Qi sensed a substantial increase in the primordial energy within his dantian, and his sea of qi had expanded. At this rate, a few more months of cultivation would bring him to the peak of Qi Refining’s ninth layer.

When it was time to feed the spirit beasts, he went to the pharmacy, fetched several bottles of Hundred Herb Pills, and began feeding them one by one, then watered the spirit herbs with the spring water.

Zhou Qi planned to resume his cultivation, when a clear, crisp voice called from outside the formation, “Junior Brother Zhou, are you there?” He looked out from within the array.

A beautiful, exquisitely dressed young woman stood outside. Her skin was smooth as jade, her face like a blooming peach blossom, a jet-black hairpin nestled in her high bun. Her graceful figure was accentuated by a pair of legs like flawless white jade, partly concealed and wholly alluring.

With such a beauty seeking an audience, Zhou Qi could hardly refuse. He stepped out of his cave dwelling.

Seeing Zhou Qi emerge, the woman smiled sweetly; her smile seemed to drain all color from the surroundings, leaving Zhou Qi momentarily dazed.

“Junior Brother Zhou, greetings. My name is Han Qiaoman, and I wish to invite you to the gathering of the direct disciples,” she said.

“A gathering of direct disciples?” Zhou Qi asked curiously. Did the Gate of Life and Death really hold such events? Shouldn’t everyone be focused on cultivation—what was the point of such gatherings?

“Yes, because Dragon Feiyu, the disciple of the Sect Master of the Gate of Immortal Companions, is visiting. It is said he began cultivating at age ten, reached Foundation Establishment at twenty, and is lauded by the Gate of Immortal Companions as a prodigy unseen in millennia. Many female disciples here are infatuated with him, and my father, displeased, decided to curb his arrogance. So he ordered me to gather all the direct disciples for a fellowship—both to strengthen bonds and to showcase the strength of our Gate of Life and Death,” Han Qiaoman explained.

The Sect Master’s own child from the Gate of Immortal Companions—could it be the one Zhou Qi had encountered? Both the Gate of Immortal Companions and the Gate of Life and Death were subordinate sects of the Dao Sect. The Sect Master’s own son—wouldn’t he be even harder to deal with?

Now was the time to keep a low profile, quietly raise his strength, and later find a way to eliminate him. Thinking this, Zhou Qi cupped his hands and said, “Senior Sister, I sustained serious injuries participating in the Five Sects Competition a few days ago and am currently recuperating. I fear I am unable to attend. I beg your pardon.”

Han Qiaoman looked him up and down—his vitality was robust, hardly the look of someone gravely injured. And as a new direct disciple, surely Elder Liu had granted him some benefits. Yet, recalling her father’s instructions, she took out a pill from her storage ring and said, “This is the Resurrection Immortal Pill. For anyone below Foundation Establishment, as long as one has a breath left, any injury will immediately heal. If you take this, you’ll be fine.” She handed the pill to Zhou Qi.

He stashed the pill away—such a precious item, once given, there was no returning it. “To be honest, Senior Sister, before my master went into seclusion, he ordered that until he emerged, I must not leave my cave dwelling.”

“But my father said that, except for those direct disciples training outside, all within the sect must attend,” Han Qiaoman protested, feeling wronged. He’d accepted the pill, yet now claimed he couldn’t go.

Who was her father, so imperious? Could it be Han Yuanzheng? Wait, Han Qiaoman, Han Yuanzheng.

“May I ask who your esteemed father is?” Zhou Qi inquired.

“My father is Han Yuanzheng,” Han Qiaoman replied, astonished that someone didn’t recognize her—no wonder he was so indifferent.

So she was the Sect Master’s daughter. Refusing again would mean he’d never have a place in the Gate of Life and Death. Though meeting Dragon Feiyu was dangerous, in public he surely wouldn’t act; as long as Zhou Qi didn’t end up alone with him, he could attend the gathering, then hide within the sect. What could they do?

“Since Senior Sister has invited me, how could Zhou Qi refuse? May I ask when and where?” Zhou Qi hastily cupped his hands, flattering her.

Han Qiaoman was furious. A mere Qi Refining disciple—her invitation was a favor. If not for her father’s orders, the Sect Master’s daughter wouldn’t invite him. The rare pill didn’t sway him, but mention her father’s name and he immediately changed his tune. This damned Zhou Qi—her heart was full of frustration.

Without revealing her identity, relying solely on her beauty and poise, who in the Gate of Life and Death would ever refuse her?

“Here’s your invitation—see for yourself.” With that, an invitation flew toward Zhou Qi. He caught it, and Han Qiaoman departed on her sword without looking back.

Women truly are fickle, Zhou Qi muttered inwardly. She was fine a moment ago—why the sudden anger? He opened the invitation.

“Three days hence, by the shores of Tianze Lake.”

Zhou Qi returned to his cave dwelling, pondering carefully. It was too late to raise his strength now. He wondered to what extent the other’s soul fragment had recovered; could the Tianxuan True Lord prevail against him? The Tianxuan True Lord had said that the ten soul fragments would attract each other—if he could eliminate the holder, the fragment would have nowhere to go and could be drawn into his own soul sea and refined.

Thus, the key lay in the battle between holders of the soul fragments. Whoever won would claim dominance over the fragments.

Starting cultivation at ten, reaching Foundation Establishment at twenty—clearly he had also cultivated the Xuantian True Art. As the Sect Master’s son, he lacked neither spirit stones nor soul-restoring elixirs. The Tianxuan True Lord’s soul fragment could awaken at any time to guide him, unlike Zhou Qi, who had insufficient spirit stones and no spirit herbs. How could he compete?

It was troublesome—he pondered for a long time, finding no solution.

Wait, that black spirit herb stood out so clearly—was it not the Ghost Soul Flower?

Zhou Qi looked around. Liu Rui had said he was in seclusion, but who knew where—vanished without a trace, and none of the grass huts seemed occupied. The seclusion of a cultivator at the Divine Transformation stage was a mystery.

Zhou Qi observed for a while, then steeled himself—he would refine it first, and come up with a good excuse later.

His cultivation certainly could not catch up in time. If only the Tianxuan True Lord could awaken at will, and teach him a few extraordinary skills that allowed him to fight across several levels.

Of course, if he absorbed that soul fragment, perhaps he could learn even more.