Chapter 58: Wind Rises, Lightning Tribulation Platform
On the Lightning Tribulation Platform, where astral winds were like blades, Lu Qingyang sat cross-legged in the center of the bronze trigram, blood beads seeping from his robes and congealing into ice crystals. He stared at the withered Dragon Scale Grass in his palm with a sneer. This seventh-tier Spirit Medicine, matured by sacrificing three years of his Lifespan, was now being devoured by the black mist backlashing from the qingmu spirit pearl. “Those old geezers certainly spared no expense.” He lifted his foot, crushing a soul-devouring vine that had stealthily climbed onto his Daoist robe, and glanced at the twelve soul 引魂 lamps below the cloud platform—the Enforcement Elders of Taiyi Pavilion were using the excuse of observing the ceremony to weave their Divine Sense into thousands of threads, entangling the array’s core.
“Why is Senior Brother Lu’s alchemical flame black?” A childish gasp came from the observation seats. A spiritual cat in the arms of a purple-robed female cultivator bristled and leaped up, its emerald eyes reflecting the turbid Qi surging from Lu Qingyang’s Dantian. The blood sacrifice at Burial Dragon Abyss three years ago had, after all, tainted the qingmu spirit pearl with something it shouldn’t have.
Suddenly, the scent of wine wafted from outside the array. A disheveled Old Drunkard, stepping on a wine gourd, crashed through the Restriction. The wooden tag with the character “medicine” hanging from his waist jingled: “Fellow Daoist, this Golden Core tribulation of yours is too dull. How about a gamble with this old man?” He tossed out a dice cup, its six faces carved with the six trigrams: “Life, Death, Shock, Injury, Deceit, and Scenery.” Lu Qingyang’s pupils constricted—this was clearly a relic of the Liuren Gambling House, which had been eradicated by Taiyi Pavilion three hundred years ago.
As the first Lightning Tribulation struck, seventy-two Seal-Spirit Nails flew out from Lu Qingyang’s sleeve. These broken artifacts, taken from the Ancient Battlefield of the Nether Abyss, now transformed into armored Yin soldiers in the lightning. The qingmu spirit pearl hummed and vibrated. The soul-returning grass growing wildly in the medicine field within the pearl suddenly self-ignited, its ashes coalescing into the Old Drunkard’s phantom. “Foolish child!” The phantom struck the Xun position array core with a palm. “Kan water turning to Li fire, do you want to play body-dissolving with those hypocrites?”
At the instant when lightning and fire intertwined, Lu Qingyang smelled the familiar scent of rotten bone flower. A white bone boat emerged from the depths of the sea of clouds. On the soul Soul-drawing banner held by the Black Robed Man, the pattern of the Taiyi Pavilion Disciple robes that he had once secretly sold in the black market was clearly embroidered. “Lu Zhanggui, still well?” The man lifted his hood, revealing half his face covered in cracks from the qingmu spirit pearl’s backlash. “Those Yin-Nether waters from three years ago, they were quite a task to find.”
The clear chime of a jade chime came from the observation seats. Taiyi Pavilion’s Enforcement Elder, Ye Wuchen, arrived on his Flying Sword. The newly replaced demon-reflecting mirror at his waist showed a bizarre image—what was coiled in Lu Qingyang’s Dantian was not a Golden Core, but a red Flood Dragon entangled by chains. “Mr. Ye is here by the Sect Master’s order to invite Daoist Lu to a discussion at the Heart-Questioning Cliff.” Before his words fell, the twelve soul 引魂 lamps suddenly exploded, their oil transforming into three thousand strands of vexation that entangled the array.
“Immortal Master Ye came at a good time.” Lu Qingyang used two fingers to cut off a strand of white hair at his temple. The hair, falling to the ground, turned into a poisonous Flood Dragon. “Why not calculate today’s trigram?” The qingmu spirit pearl cracked open with a fine seam in response, not gushing out spiritual spring water, but thick, honey-like Dragon blood. The essence of the Three-Headed Flood Dragon swallowed at Burial Dragon Abyss back then had now fully awakened under the stimulation of the Lightning Tribulation.
The disheveled Old Drunkard suddenly threw out the dice cup. The six trigrams coalesced into a Reincarnation vortex on the cloud platform: “Qian is three unbroken lines, Kun is six broken lines. Gambling on life is not as good as gambling on luck!” A yellowed contract flew out from his sleeve—it was the soul-selling contract Lu Qingyang had signed at the age of seven to save the Old Drunkard. Blood-colored Seal script appeared on the back of the contract—it was clearly the opening move of Taiyi Pavilion’s forbidden technique, the “Possession Record.”
The third Lightning Tribulation, carrying a Heart Demon illusion, crashed down. Lu Qingyang saw himself sitting in a medicine shop in a small town in the Eastern Wilds. Su Li was taking the pulse of an old woman coughing blood. On the counter, the profound yin flower, matured with five years of Lifespan, had petals stained with the blood from killing a Sect Disciple last night. “Doctor Lu, this medicine… it’s tainted with human lives, isn’t it?” The silver needle at Su Li’s fingertip suddenly transformed into a judge’s brush. As the ink flowed, it was actually rewriting the Karma lines of the qingmu spirit pearl.
“Mr. Lu sells medicine, not lives!” He waved his sleeve, shattering the illusion, but his alchemical flame was tainted with a wisp of gray Qi because of it. Cracks appeared in the Soul-Suppressing Steles at the four corners of the cloud platform, and the Evil Qi from the Ancient Battlefield sealed within their inscriptions poured out. To forge this Golden Core back then, he had fed the qingmu spirit pearl with a hundred thousand resentful souls in the Nether Abyss; now, it was time to repay the debt.
Ye Wuchen’s demon-reflecting mirror suddenly showed a strange sight—deep within Lu Qingyang’s Purple Mansion, the withered Dragon Scale Grass was being irrigated by Evil Qi, sprouting eerie new shoots. Twelve chains extended from the Void Realm, binding not only the red Flood Dragon but also a half-scroll of the “Taiyi Longevity Art” glowing with golden light. “So the qingmu spirit pearl is the key…” His sword technique suddenly changed, and his Natal Flying Sword transformed into a stream of light, piercing towards Lu Qingyang’s back, but its trajectory was twisted by some force as it touched his Daoist robe.
The disheveled Old Drunkard laughed wildly, tearing open his human skin mask to reveal a face identical to the ancient corpse in Burial Dragon Abyss. The dice cup in his hand exploded, and the six bone dice transformed into six Reincarnation Gates: “This old man has waited eight hundred years, and finally, the Jianmu seed has sprouted!” The qingmu spirit pearl shattered in response. The seed at its core, once mistaken for a rust stain, was now sending out a tender sprout that pierced through Lu Qingyang’s Dantian.
The thunderclouds suddenly turned emerald. The swords of everyone present unsheathed themselves and floated in the air. Tree-like patterns emerged beneath Lu Qingyang’s torn Daoist robe, each branch extending towards Karma lines in different times and spaces. He grasped the Jianmu branch growing wildly in his chest and suddenly remembered the Old Drunkard’s dying gatha: “Where Qingchen seeks the Dao, the spiritual pearl illuminates Longevity…” It turned out that Longevity was not the end, but the beginning of another great catastrophe.