Night had fallen deep.
Lin Zhixue shut the door tightly, latched the wooden bolt, and stuffed an old cloth into the crack beneath the door.
This was her small habit whenever she cultivated: she didn't want anyone to see, nor did she want to be disturbed by anyone.
Xiaohe had already been sent to sleep in the side room. The courtyard was peaceful and quiet, broken only by the occasional chirp of insects outside the window.
She took the items out of her storage bag one by one, lining them up neatly on the table.
The Cold Marrow Grass was wrapped in damp cloth. The frost-white luminescence on its leaves was dimmer than it had been at dusk, but its stem and roots remained fresh.
A small bottle of Spirit Gathering Powder, several spirit herbs for solidifying the foundation, and those few formation stones carved with Spirit Gathering Formations.
She arranged the formation stones around her according to the positions in her memory and sat cross-legged in the center.
The moment the formation stones touched the ground, a faint ripple spread through the air, and spiritual energy from all directions began slowly converging toward the center of the formation.
Closing her eyes, she circulated her cultivation technique and felt that spiritual energy seep into her skin like trickling streams, flowing gently along her meridians.
Advancing from the fourth to the fifth level of Qi Refining might have been just an ordinary breakthrough for others.
Yet for her, this was the first opportunity she had earned through spirit herbs gathered with her own hands and spirit stones saved by her own effort.
She placed the Cold Marrow Grass into her mouth.
The moment the leaf melted on the tip of her tongue, a frigid chill surged from her throat straight into her chest, like swallowing a mouthful of midwinter snowmelt.
Gritting her teeth without making a sound, she guided that chilling energy downward through her meridians.
The process of cleansing the meridians felt like washing the blood vessels over and over with icy water. Every inch swept by the cold felt pierced by fine needles, the pain seeping outward from the depths of her marrow.
By the time the spiritual energy of the Cold Marrow Grass cleansed the third meridian, beads of sweat from her forehead were already rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto her lapel.
She couldn't stop. Stopping at this step would render the Cold Marrow Grass completely wasted.
She had nothing left to her name; she couldn't afford to squander the herb she had risked so much to gather.
After who knew how long, that frigid spiritual energy finally completed a full heavenly circuit.
She felt the spiritual energy within her body finally overflow an unseen dam, bursting forth to surge through every limb and bone.
In that instant, every meridian that had been pierced by the chill relaxed.
Like a parched riverbed soaked through by spring rain, it had finally welcomed the flowing waters.
She slowly opened her eyes.
The formation stones around the formation had cracked into several pieces, their spiritual energy spent, turning into dull, grayish mundane stones.
Looking down at her palms, she attempted to mobilize the spiritual energy within her body.
It was faster than before, and the density of her spiritual energy had clearly risen to a new tier.
The fifth level of Qi Refining.
She slowly stood up. Her legs were slightly weak, and she had to steady herself against the edge of the table to find her footing.
Moonlight fell through the window lattice onto the table, illuminating the empty medicine bottles and shattered formation stones scattered in a messy heap.
Bending down, she picked up the broken formation stones piece by piece.
Even if they were broken and could no longer be used, she had spent nine spirit stones to buy them.
Then she neatly gathered the empty bottle of Spirit Gathering Powder; once cleaned, the bottle could still hold other things.
Only after doing all this did she sit back down by the bedside and reach into her robes to pull out the jade pendant.
Gazing at the jade pendant, she remained silent for a moment, as though speaking to it, or perhaps to herself.
“I will become stronger.”
As the words left her mouth, a faint azure halo suddenly rippled across the surface of the jade pendant.
The light flashed and vanished, so swift it seemed like an illusion, instantly returning to its usual warm and gentle luster.
Lin Zhixue blinked in surprise, rubbing her eyes before looking again.
The jade pendant lay quietly in her palm, devoid of any movement.
...
In the backyard of the Gu manor, sword light flashed and retracted beneath the moonlight.
Gu Yanqing sheathed his sword, grabbed the cloth draped over the stone table, and wiped his face.
He had been practicing for a full shichen. From returning to the manor at dusk until now, aside from gulping down two cups of water, he hadn't taken a single rest.
He had replayed that single sword strike on the mountain in his head no fewer than twenty times.
The reason that strike had landed was not because of his sword skill, but because he had held every conceivable advantage.
A sneak attack; the beast's full attention was fixed on Lin Zhixue; and the footwork of the 《Roaming Cloud Technique》 had caught it completely off guard.
Had he faced the jade-eyed wolf head-on, he would have been swatted away by a claw before he could even raise his blade.
Speed, reaction time, combat experience—he fell severely short in every aspect.
A mid Foundation Establishment cultivation was the sole legacy left to him by the original host, but having cultivation without knowing how to wield it was no different from holding an unsharpened sword.
Tossing the cloth back onto the stone table, he drew his sword once more.
He had practiced every move of the basic sword technique dozens of times; the problem now was that he couldn't apply them in actual combat at all.
Practice again.
He practiced for another half shichen. His arms were so sore he could barely lift them, yet his strikes were indeed a fraction faster than before.
Not much, just a sliver, but for him, it was enough.
A sliver a day would amount to ten slivers in ten days.
“Yanqing?”
A voice called out from the moon gate.
Gu Yanqing turned his head to see a woman in a deep purple dress standing beneath the moon gate. Holding a spirit lantern in hand, she was looking at him with a touch of uncertainty.
He paused, then pulled the face from the original host's memories.
Liu Ruolan, the original host's mother, possessed an early Core Formation cultivation. Gentle by nature, she held an almost blind trust in her son.
“Mother?” he blurted out instinctively.
Liu Ruolan took a few quick steps toward him. By the glow of the lantern, she saw the sword in his hand and the sweat drenching his brow, her eyes widening all at once.
“You... you're practicing the sword?”
“Er... yes.”
“How long have you been practicing?”
“A bit over a shichen.”
Liu Ruolan's expression looked as if she were witnessing some incredible miracle.
She circled around Gu Yanqing, reaching out to touch his sweat-soaked sleeves before glancing over at the open sword manual on the stone table. Her mouth opened and closed before she finally seized his arm.
Her voice trembled with excitement. “Wait right here, Mother is going to get your father!”
With that, she spun around and left.
Before Gu Yanqing could say anything, Liu Ruolan's figure had already vanished beyond the moon gate.
In less than half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Liu Ruolan was dragging Gu Yuanshan by the sleeve into the backyard.
Gu Yuanshan had clearly just come from the study; his outer robe was not even properly tied. Hauled along by Liu Ruolan, the expression on his face hovered between helplessness and bewilderment.
Gu Yuanshan was the current patriarch of the Gu clan, with a late Core Formation cultivation. Yet at this moment, trotting along as his wife dragged him by the sleeve, he possessed none of a patriarch's usual majesty.
“Take a look at your son!” Liu Ruolan pointed at Gu Yanqing, her tone brimming with pride.
Standing by the stone table with his sword still in hand and drenched in sweat, Gu Yanqing nodded awkwardly. “Father.”
Gu Yuanshan came to a halt and looked him up and down.
He observed his surroundings for a moment and remained silent for several breaths.
He had watched this son grow up; from childhood until now, the boy had slacked off whenever he could in cultivation.
His mid Foundation Establishment cultivation was built entirely on a mountain of pills, and his sword technique was utter garbage.
When others practiced swordsmanship, he walked his caged birds.
When others meditated, he slept.
Now, suddenly, in the dead of night, he was practicing swordplay in the backyard until he was soaked in sweat?
Gu Yuanshan grew wary instead.
“Did the sun rise in the west?” he asked.
Liu Ruolan smacked him. “What are you talking about! Our son is finally working hard for once—can't you say something nice?”
“What I mean is,” Gu Yuanshan said, looking at Gu Yanqing, his tone softening slightly though lingering doubt remained in his eyes, “it is rare for you to have this motivation.”
“Now that you have started, you had best keep it up.”
“Three days of diligence is very different from diligence kept up day after day for three years.”
Liu Ruolan ignored him and stepped forward to take Gu Yanqing's hands. The more she looked at him, the more pleased she became, chattering on with remarks like “My son is truly exceptional,” “He just hadn't awakened his sense before,” and “He will definitely surpass his father in the future.”
Listening beside them, Gu Yuanshan's eyelids twitched, but he wisely chose not to argue.
Hearing Liu Ruolan's praise, Gu Yanqing felt a pang of complicated emotion.
From the original host's memories, Liu Ruolan's love for him had been unconditional.
When the original host had thrown his weight around outside, Liu Ruolan hadn't been unaware; she would scold him with a few words, but turn right around and shield him just the same.
Gu Yuanshan was the exact opposite.
He had long been thoroughly disappointed in this son, only refraining from speaking too harshly for the sake of his wife's feelings.
Yet that cold detachment born of despair was etched clearly in the original host's memories.
Standing there, his sweat-drenched clothes clinging to his skin and the sword hilt warm against his palm, Gu Yanqing suddenly felt a touch guilty toward the two people before him.
Though they were not his birth parents, at least in this moment, the gratification in their eyes was genuine.
“Father, Mother,” he said in all seriousness.
“In the past, I was ignorant and caused you endless worry. From now on, I will cultivate diligently and never bring shame upon you again.”
Liu Ruolan and Gu Yuanshan clearly hadn't expected him to say such a thing.
In the past, whenever Gu Yanqing heard such lectures, he would either brush them off impatiently or turn on his heel and walk away.
Responding so properly now, with earnest attitude and respectful tone, actually left them at a loss for words.
“...Good,” Gu Yuanshan was the first to recover, clearing his throat.
“With those words from you, your mother probably won't be able to sleep tonight from joy.”
Liu Ruolan glared at him, then turned back to hold Gu Yanqing's hands once more, rambling through a few more words of care before Gu Yuanshan half-dragged, half-pulled her away.
Gu Yanqing watched them depart, wiped his face with the cloth, packed up his sword and sword manual, and turned to head toward his room.
A few steps out, he suddenly heard Gu Yuanshan lower his voice and whisper to Liu Ruolan, “Say, do you think this boy... could be possessed by an evil spirit? Even the way he speaks is completely different.”
Liu Ruolan smacked him again. “You're the one possessed! Can't a son just grow up and become sensible?”
“But this change happened far too fast...”
“Here you go again! Can't you hope for something good? When he was thoughtless before, you complained, and now that he's sensible, you still complain. Why are you so impossible to please...”
Liu Ruolan continued, “By the way, in a few days, it will be Yanqing's eighteenth birthday.”
“This time, we must host a grand celebration so everyone in the city knows our son isn't who he used to be.”
Gu Yuanshan went silent for a moment, seemingly turning it over in his mind, then sighed.
“Alright. We host it every year anyway; spending a bit more this year won't hurt.”
“What do you mean by 'a bit more'? I said grand! Bring out those jars of century-old spirit wine from the treasury!”
“Fine, fine, fine, whatever you say.”
The sound of their footsteps finally faded deep into the night.
Gu Yanqing reached his bedside. Having overheard the exchange, he slowly lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Eighteenth birthday?
In just a few days. The whole city attending.
He recalled the description of this birthday banquet in the original novel.
The occasion had been lively enough, but the original host had used alcohol as an excuse to act crazy, grossly offending the scions of several prominent clans.
Among them were members of the Shen clan, and it had completely shattered the last shred of decorum between the Gu clan and the Lin family.
Not this time. He closed his eyes.
Rate on N.U.
