‘Abbot, led by a peak-stage Pulse Condensation expert of the Zi clan, six White Immortal sect Nascent Souls have landed on the Soaring Crane mountain, trying to figure out your location and the methods you used to destroy this sect.’ Unbeknown to the White Immortal sect elders, as soon as they’d reached the Soaring Crane mountain, Tusha sent Xinzi a mental message, warning our monk of their every move.
As Xinzi had already made Tusha conceal the storage bags and underground room, he didn’t care that much about the White Immortal sect’s move. In fact, our monk enjoyed this game of hide and seek—this clash of means and resources that’d eventually see him come out on top. One detail, however, bothered our monk.
‘Let them wander. When they get tired of looking, they will collect their disciples and go. But you mentioned that their leader is a peak Pulse Condensation stage expert? With that cultivation base they have been entrusted with six Nascent Soul? Male or female?” Xinzi asked. Although he could already guess who that person was, he had to hear it from Tusha.
‘A male sword cultivator. I can see from his skeletal age that he’s barely over 80 years old. His Spiritual Root is also an ordinary Water Spiritual root, and yet his achievements are already comparable to the most treasured scions of some Elemental Spirit Nobles’ houses. I have never seen a Pulse like his, and it seems to be the root of all his accomplishments,’ Tusha said, and though in ancient times, the nun had seen legions of talents, as she appraised Zuixian’s results, a hint of praise still laced her words.
At the end of the day, a human Water Spiritual Root might be the cream of the crop in Dongli, and still a sought out talent throughout Yanzhou Province, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t worth that much. After all, unlike the Spirit Nobles, most humans didn’t have physiques to pair their Spiritual Root with—making them less valuable than the same root in an Elemental Spirit’s hands. An example of this would be Yan Zhong, the Yanzhou Hegemon.
Just like Guang Fanghu, Yan Zhong was born with a Fire Spiritual Root—all Flame Spirits were. But unlike the Yang Patriarch, Yan Zhong could also rely on the Yan Spirit clan’s Burning Spear Physique, not only enabling him to cultivate Fire-based methods at multiple times Guang Fanghu’s speed, but also to exhibit a greater battle power than the Yang Patriarch could with the same techniques.
Guang Fanghu somewhat made up for this gap with his Dao Glimpse, but most human cultivators would never manage to do so. This gap between humans and Elemental Spirits ensured that even those predecessors that successfully joined the Yanzhou Hegemon’s court, failed to find a steady foothold. In fact, without the Yin-Yang Sword Array, they’d be nothing more than expendable meat shields.
This made achievements such as Zuixian’s especially formidable. And through Tusha’s description, Xinzi confirmed who he was dealing with.
‘Eldest senior brother, Zi Zuixian.’ Within the White Immortal sect, not many people could impress our monk. The Wine Eccentric was one of them. And though he kept a low profile and idled his days away in drunken sloth, our monk knew virtually all there was to about him.
His father’s identity remained a mystery. But his mother, the notorious Albizia court matron—Zi Huamei, was the type of woman that all men wanted to plow, but would never put a ring on—not even for a paycheck. Zi Zuixian had practically been raised by his aunt, Zi Yao, and it was no exaggeration to say that of all of the yin matriarch’s blood relatives—perhaps because they shared the same wine addiction—Zuixian was the only one that received a consistent “good” treatment from her.
If anyone endeavored to have Zuixian lead Nascent Souls, it would be Zi Yao. This move alone told many tales, making Xinzi eager to meet the man who alone shouldered the hopes of the Zi clan. Pulling his milked cock out of the last Li clanswoman, Xinzi raised his right hand, activating the demons’ Swallowing Skill. From the males trapped in his cocoons, to the females lying groggily on the ground, all flew towards his storage ring—subsequently vanishing within. The Duality Nurturing Coffins, the three initiates, and their original bodies joined the ring as well, leaving only Chun Xu who till now failed to move or pull her eyes away from the spectacle that Xinzi so readily offered her.
Pulling a fresh monastic robe out of his storage ring, Xinzi got dressed, then took custody of the Nine Paths of Yin and Yang—true root of the White Immortal sect’s successes—and pocketed it in his ring as well. He then walked towards Chun Xu, whose body had failed her entirely. The Sword Fairy dared not meet our monk’s eyes, yet her eyes followed him anyway, forcing her to admit to her own disgraceful state.
“Boo. Senior sister, did you enjoy the show?” Xinzi leaned over, and with a lopsided grin, broke the ice. These words were not music to Chun Xu’s ears. The Sword Fairy clenched her thighs in reflex but trembled as she realized that her white dress couldn’t conceal all the fluid that had been accumulated as she peeped at this decadent orgy.
“You…” Ashamed, Chun Xu rose to her knees, trying to come up with a rebuttal. But with one index, Xinzi silenced her, held eye contact for a moment, then put a cape over her shoulder.
“You should change. I will not watch. Take this as a preview of what is to come, because soon it will be your turn. Soon you will be mine as well, and I will savor each and every bit of you.” Xinzi peered into Chun Xu’s eyes, moved his index away from her lips, and stroked her cheek for a second.
The Sword Fairy didn’t reject the touch—worse, she quivered again, confused as to what front she should put on to not appear too cheap, yet failing to settle on a maneuver. She wouldn’t have the time to fix her image. Xinzi pulled his hand back, making butterflies flutter in Chun Xu’s stomach while a sense of loss swelled in her opulent chest.
Crossing his arms behind his back, our monk walked away—leaving the muddled Sword Fairy to settle down.
Meanwhile, Zi Zuixian and Xia Hu still faced off. For some reason she couldn’t pinpoint, the fem swordsman felt triggered by Zuixian’s aura and refused to give way. Her behavior amused the drunken sword master who, over 1.9 meters tall, had to lower his head to meet Xia Hu’s gaze.
By now, the Nascent Soul elders had scoured the Soaring Crane mountain. And not only did they fail to locate Xinzi and Chun Xu, but they also found none of the loot and heads they coveted.
“Hey you…” Teeming with frustration, the Nascent Souls aimed to press Xia Hu for answers, but barely had they stepped forward that Zuixian raised his left hand, making “shut up” hand signs so they’d take the hint.
“Girl, till now, I still don’t know how I should address you. And yet you’ve been staring at me for minutes already. A bit rude, don’t you think?” Zuixian broke the ice, and without a care for Xia Hu’s thoughts, brought the wine gourd to his lips, taking a long sip right before the fem swordsman.
“Xia…” Balling her fist in frustration, Xia Hu was about to give her name when one loud, familiar voice caught her by surprise.
“Big sister Xiao!” Xinzi rushed out of nowhere, startling the Nascent Soul elders, Zi Zuixian, and Xia Hu. Xia Hu, especially, narrowed her eyes at him, wondering why he called her by a different name.
“Ah, big sister Xiao, do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? I’ve already told you that things are not what they seemed to be. I wasn’t hugging that girl! It is a misunderstanding, I swear! Why am I even explaining myself? Here you are, getting frisky with a…huh? Eldest senior brother?” Pulling Xiao Hu to the side, Xinzi went on a long tirade, then, as if suddenly taking note of Zuixian’s identity, our monk blinked in disbelief.