Chapter Thirty-Two: The Sinister House Strengthens the Pill Foundation

“Hahahahaha!”
Shangguan Chuan Yun burst into laughter, turning to glance at Wu Chenzi. He saw Wu Chenzi clutching the wounds on his mouth, blood still trickling out, and Shangguan Chuan Yun felt a surge of satisfaction. With a cold sneer, he said,
“Since you started it, don’t blame me for retaliating.”
He then turned and descended the stairs, leaving the tavern behind.
After Shangguan Chuan Yun departed, Wu Chenzi continued to cover both cheeks, blood seeping between his fingers, inwardly lamenting,
“What formidable sword energy. What ruthless heart. What venomous man.”
He decided he must first find a place to treat his injuries. The streak of white light had sliced from his right cheek clear through to the left, nearly tearing his mouth open.
Moreover, the sword energy carried a sense of fearless, unyielding intent; if it were only that, he could have dispelled it in a few moves and healed within hours given his cultivation. Yet this sword energy was ever-shifting, never fixed, flickering and vanishing unpredictably—its nature unfathomable, impossible to decipher.
Because of this, after his mouth was pierced by Shangguan Chuan Yun’s flying sword, he dared not rise to stop him, leaving the man to walk away freely.
Wu Chenzi had noticed Shangguan Chuan Yun’s exceptional talent, deeming him well-suited to Buddhist cultivation and had tried to persuade him toward the path of virtue, preaching profound Buddhist teachings.
Unexpectedly, the man remained unmoved. Recalling his own karmic ties to the Universal Benevolence Temple, Wu Chenzi lacked the time and energy to guide him patiently and had resorted to invoking the Buddha’s voice to forcibly convert Shangguan Chuan Yun, but the latter stubbornly resisted, wielding some strange sword intent. Clearly, he had no affinity with the Buddha.
Once Shangguan Chuan Yun was out of sight, Wu Chenzi placed a silver ingot on the table, scanned the area for any sign of his adversary, and slowly withdrew, intent on healing his wounds.
He hadn’t even seen what the streak of silver was before it pierced his cheek; fortunately, it struck the cheek—had it gone for the temple, even shielding with his hands might not have saved him, and his life could have ended here.
He resolved to find a place and gradually grind away this sword energy, otherwise his wound would never heal.
It seemed Shangguan Chuan Yun’s matter must be postponed for now.
As he left, Shangguan Chuan Yun kept a wary watch on Wu Chenzi with his spiritual sense. The man was truly uncanny and stronger in cultivation. The flying sword strike had only succeeded because Wu Chenzi was caught off guard.
At the time, Wu Chenzi was performing his conversion technique with full concentration, confident in his own abilities. But Shangguan Chuan Yun’s flying sword issued repeated warnings, and the life-bound sword in his sword case was on the verge of lashing out, startling Wu Chenzi back to awareness.
Upon awakening, Shangguan Chuan Yun genuinely considered killing Wu Chenzi, who sought to turn him into a puppet stripped of selfhood.
He poured every ounce of his essence, energy, and spirit into his sword, attempting the strongest strike. At the critical moment, Wu Chenzi reacted, shielding his temple, forcing the sword to divert and piercing his cheek instead.
Afterward, his reserves spent, Shangguan Chuan Yun lacked the strength for a second attack and could only leave. He had already decided to depart. Had Wu Chenzi struck back, Shangguan Chuan Yun would have had to resort to desperate measures.
He covertly clutched a Thunderblast in his hand, guarding against Wu Chenzi as he retreated farther. Suddenly, exhaustion swept over him.
He paused to catch his breath, feeling weak—even walking became a struggle. Peering inward at his dantian, he muttered,
“Not good. The pellet is dispersing. If I don’t recover soon, it’ll be too late.”

---

There was still some distance to the Marquis’s residence; if he tried to return now, his minor pellet would surely scatter, making it even harder to reform in the future. Surveying the surroundings—grand mansions everywhere—he spotted a long-abandoned courtyard nestled among them, evidently uninhabited for ages. A sudden idea struck Shangguan Chuan Yun,
“I must restore my cultivation first.”
He quickly scaled the wall and entered the derelict courtyard, found an empty room, removed his sword case and opened it beside him, placed the three-foot blade within easy reach, and sat cross-legged to stabilize his pill.
Once settled, he began internal breathing, centering his focus on the minor pellet.
The pellet was barely maintaining its spherical shape; parts of it were gradually vaporizing, only barely held together, and still dissolving.
He stilled his mind, commanding his vital energies, drawing the scattered pill energy back to its core.
Once he gathered his essence, the dispersal was halted, and immediate danger averted.
This method would allow him to recover, though it would likely take several days. Yet every lineage had its own recovery techniques, and the sword immortal arts passed to Shangguan Chuan Yun were no exception.
Though not the fastest, the method was thorough, emphasizing solid foundations.
He changed hand seals, embraced the Tai Chi symbol, and silently recited:
“From hidden breath the embryo forms, from the embryo breath emerges...
...Hold steadily to emptiness to nourish spirit and energy...
...If one wishes for longevity, let spirit and energy reside together...
...Let the mind be unmoved; no coming, no going...
...Neither entering nor exiting, let stability be natural...”
He gradually drew the scattered pill energy back to the core, its whiteness growing ever brighter.
The abandoned courtyard where Shangguan Chuan Yun sat was notorious in Shengjing as a haunted house. It had once belonged to the Nie family, but after they all fell gravely ill, only a daughter remained in the old Jiangnan estate. Word was sent for her to come see her family one last time, but for some reason, she never arrived. The Nie family perished.
The exterminated house became infamous; no one who knew its history would live there. When officials entered to clear the bodies, they found none—only clothes, and erected a cenotaph.
After much investigation, no cause was found, and the deaths were ascribed to plague, the case left unresolved.
Some who lived there suffered no ill, but others vanished without a trace. Eventually, people noticed a pattern: only the lonely and destitute disappeared; officials and wealthy residents encountered no trouble.
Only the affluent lived nearby. The estate was available for purchase, but brokers dared not sell it. The wealthy dismissed it; those interested couldn’t afford it, so it remained abandoned.
Untended for years, it was shabby and riddled with holes, yet strangely it lacked the dry, cracked decay typical of deserted homes.
Normally, deserted estates would see wood and walls crack from lack of human presence; given time, even a sturdy plank would splinter.
But this courtyard looked as if someone lived there, though it was never maintained. Its surface held a grayish hue, lacking the luster of a lived-in home.

---

It appeared damp, the sheen dark and gray, with faint traces of red; a musty, moldy scent wafted through the courtyard.
Had Shangguan Chuan Yun used the Qi-Seeing Technique upon entry, he would have noticed something amiss, but all his essence, energy, and spirit had been spent in that sword strike against Wu Chenzi—he dared not employ any arts.
The Qi-Seeing Technique was simple to learn and use; even ordinary folk without cultivation could attempt it, merely exhausting a bit of energy that would rebound after a few hours.
It wasn’t that Shangguan Chuan Yun couldn’t use it, but rather that his minor pellet’s energy was intertwined with his essence, energy, and spirit—one touch affected all. Using any spell would stir the pill; with its instability, even the smallest art could scatter it.
This was a trait of sword immortals: regardless of cultivation, they could unleash powerful attacks, but at steep cost. Had Shangguan Chuan Yun expended all his cultivation in a single sword strike, he could have slain Wu Chenzi, but afterward would have been stripped of all power, forced to start anew.
If he had added a blood sacrifice, Wu Chenzi would not even have had the chance to react.
Thus, sword immortals always carried two swords—one Dao sword, the flying sword, usually stored in the sword case and seldom used; the other, the law sword, worn at the waist and used in daily combat.
From the beginning, sword immortals strove to strengthen their cultivation and deepen their reserves, expending far more than others. They typically dwelled in remote places, barren mountains and wild rivers, vast plains and towering peaks, or sought traces on overseas islands, wandering the four corners of the earth.
The fate of a nation might enable Wu Chenzi, or the diviner, or the Universal Benevolence Temple to attain immortality, but for Shangguan Chuan Yun, it was insufficient.
Thus, sword immortals were often destitute, armed with only a three-inch flying sword and a law sword—sometimes even lacking the latter. In his previous life, Shangguan Chuan Yun sold his law sword to break through the final realm.
Settling into meditation, Shangguan Chuan Yun stabilized his minor pellet. Though his method was slow, its foundation grew ever firmer; in a single night, it could become fully solid, perhaps even advance further.
In cultivation, one forgets both self and surroundings, oblivious to external affairs. Practitioners always guard against interruption, carefully managing their own sanctums with formations and barriers.
When traveling, they never fully immerse themselves, preferring to sit and nurture their spirit. If such circumstances arise, they lay down barriers and formations before meditating wholeheartedly.
This is to prevent invasion by external demons or disturbance.
Yet sword immortals care little for protective arts; their defense lies in their flying sword and law sword.
With clarity of mind, sincerity to the sword, perfect unity of heart and sword, their intent becomes sword intent, highly sensitive to chaotic energies.
If anyone harbors malice toward a sword immortal, the flying sword instantly senses it, and if danger arises, it will fly out and slay the intruder.
Thus, the sword immortal’s protection is simply to display their flying sword—no further trouble required.
The courtyard was silent and deserted, shrouded in darkness, yet intermittently the wind swept through, rustling leaves from a few trees.
The moonlight was not pure but seemed veiled in a grayish haze tinged with faint blood.
Had Shangguan Chuan Yun been in his usual state, he would have recognized this as a field of demonic energy—a phenomenon only formed when a spirit beast dwells here long-term.
But so far, the place showed no malice toward Shangguan Chuan Yun, so his flying sword remained unmoving in its case.