Chapter Seventy-Three: First Hearing of Zhong Wu

Qin Tianzheng’s words left no room for doubt.

For those who pursue the immortal path, aside from innate talent and relentless cultivation, one thing is absolutely essential—fortune. Fortune, or “opportunity,” is itself a vital aspect of true power. Though such chances are exceedingly rare, one must believe that in the boundless world of cultivation, anything is possible. In this realm, what you cannot imagine may indeed exist; what you cannot accomplish is only because you have yet to try. As long as you are willing to defy the heavens, to rebel against fate, your day of reckoning will surely come. The story of Senior Han proves that the distance between a so-called waste and a prodigy is but a single step—though, to take that step, one must expend a lifetime’s effort.

“With your temperament, Grandfather believes you can do it.”

“His surname is Han? Could it be…him?”

In Skywind City, Qin Feng had perused countless ancient tomes. The moment Qin Tianzheng mentioned this person, Qin Feng recalled someone. This man had emerged from a mundane sect, possessing the most inferior five-element mixed spiritual root, and yet, through countless tribulations, had finally ascended to the very pinnacle of the cultivation world. After lingering for a thousand years, he broke through the boundaries of the world and left. But a person like that—one in a hundred million! Without an unimaginable stroke of fortune, such a feat would be utterly impossible.

“Grandfather, you’re not just trying to comfort me, are you?”

Qin Feng rolled his eyes. It was difficult not to sense, in Qin Tianzheng’s smile, the air of someone coaxing a child.

Qin Tianzheng laughed awkwardly, patting Qin Feng’s head. “Boy, if you don’t try, how will you ever know the result? Who knows, maybe you’ll be the next Old Devil Han. At least you have a balanced three-color spiritual root as your foundation. If you can find a way to harmonize the earth and water attributes, and, after some time, fuse and mutate them, you will have a Heavenly Root. Even if you can’t transform it into a Heavenly Root, your five-element mixed root at least gives you the right to continue cultivating. Having a chance is better than having none at all!”

Qin Feng was speechless.

Though Grandfather’s words made sense, Qin Feng, who had lived two lives, was not so easily fooled. Grandfather was really too good at talking people around! Not that he could blame him—if Grandfather knew about his mutated serpent soul, he would likely change his tune immediately, dismissing the five-element mixed root as nothing, scoffing at the hardships of cultivation, and instead extolling the family’s bloodline soul to the heavens while casting the spiritual roots into oblivion.

After this internal grumbling, Qin Feng almost laughed aloud. Still, he understood Grandfather’s good intentions, so he feigned excitement and gratitude on the surface.

Seeing the happiness in Qin Feng’s expression, Qin Tianzheng finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then, under Qin Feng’s astonished gaze, he produced a letter and, with an air of secrecy, pressed it into his hand.

“Grandfather, what’s this?”

“Oh, just a letter.”

“A letter? To whom?”

Qin Tianzheng didn’t answer at once. Only after a moment’s hesitation did he say, “When I was young, I had an old friend in Sword Mountain of Shu. Her talent far surpassed mine—she must be at least a Core Realm master by now. With the Sword Mountain’s Decennial Inaugural Gathering approaching, take this letter to her and ask her to accept you as a disciple.”

“Sword Mountain of Shu? The Inaugural Gathering?”

“Yes, to put it plainly, it’s a disciple selection event!”

“Grandfather, I can attend the Inaugural Gathering myself—why give me a letter? Don’t tell me… you want me to pull strings? Is my aptitude so poor that I need connections to join Sword Mountain of Shu?”

“You brat! I never said that!” Qin Tianzheng’s old face flushed red. He coughed, then muttered, “I have matters to attend to. Pack your things and set out when you’re ready!” With that, he shooed Qin Feng away.

Qin Feng had barely crossed the threshold when another thought occurred to him. After hesitating, he pinched his nose and said, “Grandfather, could you go to the Huo family for me? About that engagement with Huo Siyan, please… break it off for me.” His voice grew quieter at the end, clearly lacking confidence.

Qin Feng’s lack of confidence stemmed from the mischief he’d gotten into the night before.

But to Qin Tianzheng’s ears, it sounded like a wounded heart.

“The Huo family? Hmph!” A cold gleam flashed in Qin Tianzheng’s eyes, anger flaring as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll see to it. The engagement will be dissolved, but the Huo family will pay an appropriate price for this!” As he spoke, his aura surged; in that instant, the kindly grandfather was once again the iron-fisted patriarch of the Qin family.

Leaving his grandfather’s chambers, Qin Feng walked and pondered.

He hadn’t expected to possess the five-element mixed root—a surprising and not unwelcome discovery. Inferior as it was, it was better than nothing. As for Grandfather’s talk of root transformation, Qin Feng believed it, for his own bloodline soul had mutated before. So, while he accepted the possibility, he didn’t dwell on it—the odds were simply too slim.

Besides, with his mutated bloodline soul, spiritual roots held little interest for him.

Yet, Grandfather’s letter did offer an appealing choice for his upcoming journey. Truth be told, Qin Feng held Sword Mountain of Shu in high regard—mostly, of course, because of Zhan Bai.

Sword Mountain of Shu, the righteous leader of immortal sects in Yunqi Kingdom, was the very symbol of justice.

More importantly, the sword immortals’ ability to fly through the air was simply too enticing for Qin Feng! Although he had advanced to the Human Realm, he still couldn’t fly. How could he travel the world and uphold justice without a striking, majestic style? The more he thought about it, the itchier his heart grew.

But then, Huo Siyan was also at Sword Mountain of Shu, and their tangled relationship…

He sighed deeply, torn not by fear, but by uncertainty—he simply didn’t know how to face Huo Siyan.

“To go, or not to go?”

In the midst of his inner turmoil, a blood-red demonic eye suddenly bulged from the center of his right palm. After swiveling a few times, it blinked at Qin Feng and spoke: “Little one, I’ve heard Red Corpse mention Sword Mountain of Shu in Yunqi Kingdom before. While that sect is only second-rate in the Eastern Domain of Azure Mystics, there are some fine swords buried on its Sword Burial Peak. Moreover, one of my old nemeses may have hidden a sword there. It’s only a guess, but in my view, it’s worth the journey.”

Qin Feng had already subjugated the Heavenly Demon Blood Coffin.

He had used an ancient blood-seal demon-locking method recorded on the murals of the evil palace to claim the coffin as his own. After recognizing him as its master, the coffin could be stored within his body at will.

It was a truly wicked thing, always popping an eye out from some part of his body, much to Qin Feng’s annoyance—though he was powerless to stop it.

Qin Feng had negotiated with the Heavenly Demon about this many times, and, after much protest, they reached a compromise: the eye could emerge wherever it liked, so long as it didn’t appear at the end of his leg…

“Your old nemesis, Demon?”

Qin Feng was taken aback, glancing at the demon. This being had lived so many years—its “old nemesis” was surely no ordinary person.

“That’s right—a rather interesting fellow,” the demon mused, its tone drifting into reminiscence. The demonic eye blinked slowly. “If memory serves, its name was Chong Wu…”