"01044 isn't dead?"
She hid a soul shard ahead of time… was it that crystal orb? Or maybe she's got other avatars parked on different planes?
Whatever. The four 007s dropped in and got wiped on day one. What the Company will do next—Li Pan couldn't guess and couldn't be bothered to.
What's done is done; the bodies are paste. What's left to say?
When the boat reaches the bridge, it'll straighten itself out. When soldiers come, raise a wall; when water comes, pile earth. He was tired—let the world do what it wants.
The blood infant fluttered out of the fridge, circled the motel room twice, then flitted back. With spit-slick fingers it wrote a few characters in its palm and slapped them onto the refrigerator door, pressing a blood talisman into the metal.
"This little byway is interesting—it leads straight to my cave dwelling. Big Brother, care to come in and have a cup of wine?
If you go into closed-door cultivation in my cave, the spooks and goblins won't keep knocking to disturb your practice."
Li Pan weighed the two Blood Zhu Coins in his hand, felt the blood-breath sealed inside them, and also felt his own cultivation unsteady. No reason to play coy.
"Alright—sorry to trouble you, little brother. Guard the gate for me."
He followed Duan Kecheng, turned into a streak of blood-light, and slipped into the fridge to go into seclusion.
Li Xuehong continued forming his core; his main body was still under rescue.
Thus, Li Pan's turn ended.
Li Qingyun's turn began.
"Go split two thousand jin of firewood."
The moment he opened his eyes, Master Xian's voice boomed across a thousand li. Li Qingyun gathered his breath, set aside his cultivation, pinched a quick divination, fetched a fish-scale axe and a fish-skin sack from the meditation room, formed a Water-Escape seal, and dived into the Void Star Sea.
Riding light through water, he reached, in moments, a coral sea in the abyss—reefs and pearls everywhere, fish-demons schooling.
He slipped off his belt, chanted and gestured, and flung it in a circle. The belt swelled in the current, flashing into a hundred-zhang white ribbon that fenced a dozen li of reef-bed in golden light.
Then Li Qingyun dropped cross-legged to the seabed and spoke to the axe in his hand:
"You've been ranked as an ensouled tool—time to hunt on your own. Go!"
The axe blazed blue, shot off like it'd been juiced, and went to town on the coral—sand and shards flying. Spooked fish-demons bolted; the blade-light ran them down—one flash, two halves; one chop, belly-up—fish heads rolling, eyes wide, gazing at the stars.
Li Qingyun dusted his robe, sat right there, and pulled out the Blood Register Heavenly Tome to read for fun.
What's with that axe?
Per Master Xian, it's nothing much.
These were little handicrafts he'd started making now that he was learning tool-forging—just toys.
But because the materials came from the Void Star Sea's heavenly treasures, and because he'd refined tool-spirits, if you took them down to the mortal world, you could just about call them "magic treasures."
Truth was, Li Qingyun was lonely. So he used Shangzhen Monastery's forging methods to make a few treasures and turn them into child-servitors—company for him, and help to fan flames, chop wood, fetch water, net fish, and sweep floors.
Master Xian's standards were strict; he wouldn't allow these rejects to bear Shangzhen seals. Li Qingyun wouldn't defy his teacher; he just left the spirits to seek their own chance to take human shape.
He flipped idly through the Tome, picked up some Sacred Sect arts, and gained a few insights.
Indeed, the methods diverged from Shangzhen's orthodox Daoist canon. He'd practiced blood-refining breath before, so he knew the Sect took a side path—even basic circulation didn't follow the regular meridians.
But by going off-track and refining a Blood God Son inner core, a cultivator at the same "Refining Qi into Spirit" realm who in the orthodox path would have one core and one nascent soul—a Sacred Sect adept might refine hundreds, thousands—even hundreds of millions of Blood God Sons. In battle, it's like ten thousand fighting one. How do you even fight that?
To command so many, the Sect emphasizes primordial-spirit training: using blood-talisman arcana to strengthen the spirit, fuse the three souls and seven spirits into a Blood God, and thereby turn myriad Blood God Sons into one's own avatars—Blood God undying, enduring forever.
Powerful, yes—but Master Xian seemed unimpressed, calling it a side door. His contempt bled through the lines.
Literally through the lines—every chapter of the Heavenly Tome was already complete—methods and taboos alike—yet Master Xian still appended copious annotations: how to cultivate, how to counter it, and even which orthodox sect the trick originally came from—what the True Dao version looked like—and how this imitation differed in strength and method.
Even the banner art, supposedly the Sect Lord's original—Blood God Son Grand Method—Master Xian claimed it was an offshoot of the Daoist "Second Primordial Spirit of Clarity & Emptiness." The other two famed arts drew on the Sword School's scripture and an ancient Martial God's body-tempering fist-law.
Li Qingyun closed the Tome with a grin. So the Heavenly Tome… is plagiarized from the True Dao from cover to cover?
Still, that Sect Lord was impressive—turning stolen truths into a path of his own.
When the axe finished "splitting wood," Li Qingyun tossed the fish-skin bag.
Whoosh—
It drank the coral bed dry for dozens of li, leaving a bald, ravaged seabed.
He stowed the Tome and the axe, tied his belt, hefted the skin bag, shook it, then tried the orthodox source of the Sect's notorious Soul-Devouring—namely its original Daoist version, Soul-Search, Soul-Seize. He reached into the bag, grabbed, and plucked out a grass carp.
"…"
He and the carp locked eyes for a beat; then he opened his mouth and swallowed it.
Not a live fish—a spirit—the fish's soul pulled out by Soul-Search. Same principle as the Sect's blood-soul catching—using the primordial spirit to yank out souls directly.
Honestly, if even fish have souls, how do 0791's people not?
He shook his head, jostled the bag to separate aura from flesh, and chugged—gulp, gulp. About two thousand jin remained. In a streak of light he returned to Shangzhen Monastery.
He entered the Alchemy Court, bowed to Master Xian, who hadn't moved a butt-cheek since the furnace lit.
Without opening his eyes, Master Xian flicked his whisk; a restraining layer came off.
Heat blasted his face. With true qi warding him, Li Qingyun walked straight under the pill furnace and tugged the iron turtle head at the base—
Master Xian: "Bàxià."
…Right. He pulled Bàxià's head like a drawer, slid out the bottom pill-casket, cleared dregs and dust, dumped in his "firewood," and shoved Bàxià shut to keep stewing.
Alchemy is boring. You get stir-crazy.
He bowed and was about to go sleep—er, cultivate—when Master Xian suddenly opened his eyes and gave him a once-over.
"You've cultivated the Sacred Sect method."
Li Qingyun bowed.
"Er—yes. I read a few scrolls and grasped the gist. The gall of that Sect, plagiarizing our True Dao in broad daylight—shameful! Outrageous!"
Master Xian squinted at him, raised a hand, and floated over a rolled diagram.
One glance told Li Qingyun it was a formation map. On the first panel, a verse:
Divine work casts a soul like frost,
Mountains of ice and snow congeal the world.
Even if immortals step into my array,
Their skin and bones will leave no trace.
"This is the Blood-Talisman Ten Absolutes: Ice Soul Formation. Go set it over the open sea. Seal the island. I'll take you down below."
Whoa—Downworld! Field trip!
"As you command, Master!"
Happily, Li Qingyun mounted the clouds, fetched a handful of the junky treasures he'd made lately, planted them as formation eyes per the diagram, then pulled the map wide—sky-covering—and sealed Shangzhen Turtle Island on all four seas with wards.
At once hundreds of black waterspouts rose from the sea and inverted into the sky, knitting cloud. Then blades of frost and ice, waves of bitter cold, and wind, knife, and sleet poured across the Void Star Sea. In moments, a towering ring of ice and snow had sealed the waters for a thousand li beyond the island—fish and shrimp crushed under the floes—nothing with planks could pass.
Master Xian stepped out of the Alchemy Court. With the array set, Li Qingyun left his axe-spirit to guard it and dropped from the cloud to pay respects.
Master Xian flicked his whisk. At the gate of Shangzhen Monastery, whoom— from nothing, a colossal archway rose—a ten-zhang paifang that felt older than time. On the plaque were two characters:
Penglai.
"When we arrive at Penglai, mind your address. Though you are the only one of the Shangzhen line, the Nine True disciples are all your fellow senior brothers."
"Yes, yes. I understand."
Li Qingyun nodded, barely containing his grin.
Stone-faced, Master Xian took one step through the gate and vanished.
Li Qingyun hurried after him.
In the blink of an eye, the world opened wide.
No longer ice walls under the stars—now blue sea and clear sky around a grand Daoist palace.
Ocean—his first sight was the sea inverted overhead. Aqua hung above like a river across the sky, and for a moment he felt as if he stood upside down, gazing up at the water.
He spread his divine sense; perspective steadied. He realized the island-palace wasn't upside down—the island was wrapped in seawater and held inside a huge bubble—like an interspace barrier.
A blessed cave-heaven.
He lowered his gaze and saw the broad marble square below shimmer. Phosphorescence rose, rippling blue like waves.
Out of the glow, hundreds of blue-robed cultivators manifested—light skipping across the domed sea, wave-light glittering, starry points dancing—beautiful beyond words.
Having learned orthodox spirit arts, Li Qingyun could tell: these were primordial spirits out-of-body—come to receive them. Almost all were Refining Qi into Spirit true disciples—none weaker than him. At least half felt like abysses and mountains—their might far above his; their mere presence blocked his divine sense like a wall.
The seven standing in front gave off no sense at all—as if projected shadows—visible only to the naked eye. Most likely the next realm—Refining Spirit, Returning to Void.
Jaw slack, Li Qingyun watched as the assembly bowed, surf roared, and they saluted Master Xian in unison.
"Greetings, Grand Dao Ancestor!"
Li Qingyun slid his eyes toward Master Xian.
Expressionless, Master Xian returned the bow and turned to the lead cultivator.
"Sect Master."
The Sect Master bowed. "Please, Dao Ancestor—deliver your decree."
Master Xian flicked his whisk.
"No decree. I came to look around. Disperse."
"As the law decrees."
Light blossomed. In an instant, the plaza emptied—hundreds of spirits flickering away.
…So Master Xian's pressure is on another level.
Li Qingyun shut his jaw and focused on the remaining Sect Master.
Sky-blue Taishang ceremonial robe; a fivefold lotus crown; silk lappets trailing on either side, inscribed "Nine Heavens Mysterious Maiden, Taishang Lord Heavenly Venerated." A ruyi in hand; three long whiskers; jade-like features, golden aura—a fairy's bearing; worthy of Penglai's exalted sovereign, the Taishang—
He jogged over, dropped to his knees with a thump, and knocked his head to the floor three times.
"Chengxue pays respects to Grand-Uncle Master."
Well then—Grand-Uncle Master…
No wonder Master Xian warned him everyone else was "senior brother." Apparently there wasn't anyone alive on Master Xian's own generation to be called "uncle."
Master Xian shot Li Qingyun a glare for gaping and raised the Sect Master with a whisk-flick.
"This child is my new inheritor—the vessel for the Shangzhen lineage. Come receive his tablet."
Li Qingyun snapped to and bowed.
"Qingyun greets the Sect Master Senior Brother."
The Sect Master smiled gently.
"No need for formality, Junior Brother Qingyun—just call me Senior Brother Zhou."
"Yes—greetings, Senior Brother Zhou."
Master Xian didn't wait for chatter. He barked,
"Chengxue, your cultivation grows lax! How many years have you stalled at Insight—still not Union with Dao? Is my Heavenly Tome so hard to read? You're the only one of the 'Cheng' generation left—if you keep this up, who will bear the Taishang Nine-True mantle?"
Sect Master Zhou dropped to his knees again, knocking his head on the stone.
"Yes! Your dull disciple has failed your earnest instruction! I've shamed the sect's trust! I've failed the True Dao's inheritance!"
Watching the Sect Master grovel, Li Qingyun stared at his nose, then his mouth, then his heart, wishing he could find a crack to flee into.
"Hmph! Were it not for your deep fortune shielding the sect through calamity, I wouldn't let this slide!"
Master Xian whisked him upright and asked, sternly:
"This cycle of Three Mountains true blood—how many Dao seeds did you secure?"
With reverence, Sect Master Zhou replied,
"Four for the Divine-True line; three for the Spirit-True; three for the Mystic-True; and one each for Heaven-True, True-True, Supreme-True, and High-True. Counting Shangzhen's Junior Brother Qingyun, that makes fifteen 'Qing-generation' Dao seeds."
Master Xian's color eased.
"Fifteen—not bad. Your blessings run long; you still feed the sect."
Zhou hurried to demur.
"Uncle-Master flatters me—this was all the senior brothers laboring together, teaching by aptitude, spreading our True Dao—"
Master Xian shook his head.
"Dao seeds are rare, but they must be cultivated to become pillars of heaven. This is handled well. Are matters at Daiyu proceeding smoothly?"
Zhou answered,
"Rest easy, Uncle-Master. The Three Mountains and Nine Palaces are well-provisioned. All my senior brothers labor without rest. I watch day and night. The 'Migration of Daiyu' is near complete; initial works at Yuanzhao progress well. I won't delay the sect's great enterprise."
Master Xian nodded.
"Good. Petty affairs you handle deftly. But such minutiae can be left to suitable disciples; seekers of the Dao must put practice first. Fetch the Heavenly Tome. I'll explain it again."
"Many thanks for the transmission!"
Zhou knelt, knocked a few more times, then stood and drew a mutton-fat jade pendant from his sleeve. Li Qingyun's sharp eye caught the red tassel and the golden charm—looked like a golden lion-dog…
Master Xian side-eyed him. "Suanni."
Right—Suanni.
Zhou tossed it. The suanni hit the floor, rolled, and turned into a bright-eyed Dao boy with gold curls and golden eyes, holding the jade pendant. He bowed on hands and knees.
"Paying respects to the Dao Ancestor, the Sect Master, and Uncle."
Zhou said to Li Qingyun,
"Junior Brother, follow my boy. He'll get you your tablet and registers, then take you to the treasury for pill coin and stipends."
Master Xian waved him off. Li Qingyun grinned.
"Yes—thank you, Senior Brother. Master."
He saluted and followed the suanni boy toward the rear palaces to pick up his badge.
"Picking up the badge" meant formally enrolling as a true disciple of the Taishang Dao Sect's Shangzhen Palace. With registers and warrants in hand, it was like receiving an ID, diploma, and practitioner's license all at once—entitling him to call himself a disciple of the orthodox True Dao.
The suanni boy took him to a palace to pay respects to the Mysterious Maiden, then issued him the "Taishang Dao Ordination Register of Daiyu Mountain", stamped and sealed. He received a storage jade of the sect, standard Daoist robes, cultivation texts, wondrous pills, and daily stipends.
When Li Qingyun stepped back outside, he saw his name already incised by an invisible blade on a jade wall—entered under the Shangzhen line.
Scanning the list of "Qing"-generation Dao names—fifteen in all—he noted that among the Nine True branches, only the Supreme-True hall hadn't taken in a Qing-generation disciple; the other branches had all logged theirs.
He'd seen name plaques at Shangzhen Monastery—lots of people. But this wall stood almost empty; after pacing and looking twice, he guessed it recorded those still alive in the sect.
Names shimmering with azure light—covered by breath—were still in cultivation. Those who died unnatural deaths, fell on the path, reincarnated, or dissolved and restarted—their names vanished from the wall.
Seeing that, he realized Shangzhen's line was bleak. From the "Xian" generation onward, the lineage had hollowed out for ten straight generations—dead, broken, or lost—until it stood with only him—Shangzhen Qingyun—as a lone sprout.
Looking further up, he spotted at the very top—the "Xian" generation—beside his master Shangzhen Xiantong, there was another: Supreme-True Xianhua—the two brothers side by side.
So he did have a "Master-Uncle." On closer look—hah—the previous Sect Master. Wonder what kind of person he is—and whether he's easy to get along with.
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⚠️ 30 CHAPTERS AHEAD — I'm Not a Cyberpsycho ⚠️
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