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The farewell ceremony for the Ink Sword Sect cultivators was short and concise, with few words and even fewer attendees. Only a handful of people who believed in the warrior's honor or similar ideals showed up.
The rest simply didn't want to attend the funeral of those who'd killed their comrades.
Qing Xuanling attended the ceremony, calmly watching as the wooden box containing Cheng Yogun's corpse and those of the other Ink Sword Sect cultivators was incinerated. Smoke rose, dispersing once it reached a certain height…
Nothing special happened during the following week, as Qing Xuanling had to focus entirely on her recovery.
The only good thing that came of it was that she could devote some time to researching how Qi of different elements affected the same techniques. She couldn't do much, though—her meridians were still somewhat weakened from her battle with Cheng Yogun.
Still, she could use basic techniques like creating small fire embers.
That became her main subject of experimentation: the most basic technique for producing a fire ember. Surprisingly, she obtained some small but interesting results.
For example, when she used Wood-attribute Qi to create a fire ember, the resulting ember was larger but less hot than one created with Fire-attribute Qi. And if she used Water-attribute Qi—contrary to expectations—the ember still formed instead of extinguishing itself.
However, unlike before, the ember was much weaker and smaller.
Creating fire embers with the other elements of the five elements produced equally unique effects.
In a way, this was obvious—after all, anyone could create fire embers regardless of their spiritual roots. But this small experiment made Qing Xuanling wonder: just how much did spiritual roots truly affect technique execution?
People normally chose techniques based on their spiritual roots. At the very least, someone with a Fire root would rarely choose a Water-attribute technique. It was basic knowledge—like breathing.
But the problem was that techniques could be used regardless of one's Qi type or spiritual roots. So was it truly necessary for a technique's attribute and one's Qi to match?
Her answer was a resounding… yes. It was absolutely essential.
"Spiritual roots not only define our Qi's attribute—they also make it easier to locate specific minor meridians within the body. Thus, most techniques heavily inclined toward a particular element are usually created by people with high-purity spiritual roots of that element, since it's easier to develop new techniques when you can easily find most of the minor meridians you need."
"And because imitation is easier than innovation, most people prefer using techniques whose creators had spiritual roots similar to theirs. Over time, this became a trend: cultivators only practicing techniques matching their own attribute."
Qing Xuanling carefully wrote all this in her notebook, leaving out none of her insights.
"Therefore, experimenting with different elemental Qi is an uncommon path—and likely a powerful one. But above all, it's deeply tied to the minor meridians. Perhaps, by uncovering the secrets of Qi, I can unlock the mysteries of the minor meridians… and the Star Map…"
She straightened her posture after writing. Her face glowed. She felt she'd made significant progress over the past week.
"I really wonder what you enjoy about spending all day doing strange things and jotting them down in that notebook…" Qing Wentian, who'd approached at some point, shook his head.
His eyes were dull—he'd been like this all week. The events of that battle still weighed heavily on him, especially since one platoon member had stepped in front of him to block an incoming attack, saving his life but losing his own in the process.
This had deeply marked Qing Wentian, driving him to train far harder than usual. His tired eyes showed how little he'd rested these past days.
Qing Xuanling looked at her friend—probably her best friend—and said nothing. It wasn't an entirely bad change. Qing Wentian had never been someone who pushed himself particularly hard. He was talented and knew it perfectly well, so he rarely gave his all.
It hadn't been necessary when he could achieve most things with less than half his effort.
But now it was different. For the first time in his life, Qing Wentian was truly giving everything he had in daily cultivation and training.
She believed that hollow look would fade once he grew accustomed to it. After all, she exerted herself several times more each day than he currently did—and she was still holding up… mostly, at least. But she remained steady.
A strange glint crossed her eyes as she thought this, and she quickly changed the subject. "Is it our turn already?"
Qing Wentian nodded. "We've had too much rest. If they keep giving us extra time just for you, the other squads will accuse us of favoritism—and honestly, even we would be obliged to agree."
The Crimson Sky Platoon's main mission was to seize control of the Ink Sword Sect's spiritual mine—not to kill people or anything else. The point of taking the mine wasn't just for show, so clearly the platoon was going to the trouble of mining as many spirit stones as possible.
The mining process had been ongoing all week, progressing at an unusually fast pace for spirit stone extraction.
Spiritual mines—caves connected to dragon veins—could continuously generate spirit stones for a long time if treated carefully.
But the Crimson Sky Platoon couldn't care less whether the mine got damaged or not, since they wouldn't hold it for long anyway.
All Ink Sword Sect cultivators had life lamps in the city, which would extinguish upon death—so it was certain the sect already knew something abnormal had happened at this mine.
The only reason they hadn't sent reinforcements yet was that they simply lacked enough personnel to confront a threat large enough to have wiped out both the mine's original garrison and Cheng Yogun's reinforcements.
It wasn't hard to imagine the Ink Sword Sect was still anxious about what had happened at their spiritual mine.
Back to the point: each squad periodically descended into the mine to extract as many spirit stones as possible. The Crimson Sword Squad had already skipped this duty twice due to Qing Xuanling's condition—but they couldn't avoid it any longer.
Qing Xuanling and Qing Wentian headed together toward the hole leading into the spiritual mine and jumped in. The rest of the squad was already below, waiting.
Qing Xuanling's vision darkened for an instant before being lit by a faint but brilliant bluish glow. She looked around, surprised by the beautiful sight before her.
Though it was a mine, the cavern where spirit stones were extracted was spacious and clean, illuminated by soft light emanating from bluish crystals jutting irregularly from the walls with no discernible pattern.
"Good you're here—we were about to start," Qing Ziyi said, nodding as the two arrived. She looked at the rest of the squad. "The mine currently has thirty-two tunnels, fourteen of which still contain raw spirit stones. Our job is to finish extracting at least two of those fourteen tunnels."
She distributed pickaxes to everyone while explaining the basic procedures they had to follow.
"Lastly, we'll split into two teams to speed things up." Qing Ziyi divided them into one group of five and another of six. "There are eleven of us, so one group will have one fewer person. To keep it fair, that group will include the squad's physically strongest members."
In the end, Qing Xuanling was paired with Qing Wentian, Qing Muyu, Qing Tanwei, and one of the twins, Qing Xixi.
Qing Xuanling's group of five quickly entered their assigned tunnel, with little conversation.
Qing Wentian wasn't the only one affected by the recent battle within the squad. Each member had undergone a harsh awakening and carried their own thoughts, so the previously lively atmosphere was now absent.
'I just hope everyone gets better soon… this is so awkward…'
Qing Xuanling smiled bitterly. She wasn't especially talkative, but she didn't love silence either—especially when surrounded by a whole group of people. It was too uncomfortable not knowing whether it was the right moment to speak or not.
She sighed and looked ahead to the tunnel's end, already filled with an amorphous structure of raw spirit stones.
"I just hope this isn't even more awkward…"
She murmured, unaware that recently, the "flames" of her fortune had begun burning brightly—drawing luck to her door.
And of course, fortune always walked hand in hand with danger.