Chapter 301
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Carrying the longsword, Zhang Xiaohua returned to the mountain peak of the deserted island. Breathing in the salty, fishy scent of the fresh sea breeze, he couldn’t help feeling a bit sentimental. No wonder so few people practiced Earth Escape techniques—digging through the ground all day like a mole, how could that compare to the freedom of soaring through the sky? He had spent less than a day beneath this deserted island, and now, just breathing the ordinary sea air felt so comforting. Let alone those who were always tunneling underground—it must be unbearable.
Cross-legged, Zhang Xiaohua sat down and carefully examined his meridians. To his surprise, using Earth Escape while carrying the longsword consumed several times more True Qi than when he used the technique alone. The cost was truly a bit excessive.
“Forget it, forget it. I’ll just hold onto it. Maybe when I’m old, I can use it as a walking stick.”
Zhang Xiaohua did his best to convince himself, just so he wouldn’t toss it into the sea.
Though his journey through the magma had been dangerous yet without incident, it fully confirmed True Person Fire Dragon’s theory that specializing in a single escape technique held unique benefits. So, in the days that followed, aside from diligently cultivating Earth Escape and Fire Escape, he would also occasionally perform both techniques simultaneously on the surface of the magma. Of course, only on the surface—he had no interest in disturbing that monster’s nest again. Even though he knew there were still many luminous pearls hidden in the lava, he had no desire to retrieve them.
Silver might not be all-powerful, but without silver, nothing is possible. However, if it comes to one’s life, even silver can be cast aside.
Once his Earth Escape and Fire Escape techniques had reached a refined level, Zhang Xiaohua once again focused his main efforts on the study of restriction techniques and formation arts. He still had three mysterious jade slips in his hands waiting to be deciphered. Moreover, Carefree Heart Sutra, Big Dipper Divine Fist, Jade Blood Refining the Pill Heart, sword techniques, Fire Escape, and Earth Escape had all been cultivated to a certain degree. There wouldn’t be much progress in the short term, so daily practice would suffice. Only restriction techniques and formation arts, as his Pill Heart developed, revealed increasingly rich layers of complexity. The more he studied, the more he realized how much there was still to master.
And so it went: when idle, he’d drive his small sword to chase seabirds; when busy, he’d draw down heavenly lightning to temper his tendons and bones; when bored, he’d play with earth and fire escapes; when interested, he’d refine pills and form seals. In the blink of an eye, a whole year had passed amidst this cultivation.
“Time—it’s grown wings. No matter how you chase it, you’ll never catch it.”
“And homesickness—it’s a bone-gnawing poison. Search the world over, and you’ll find no cure.”
Zhang Xiaohua, rare in his leisure, stood atop the mountain peak, murmuring to himself as he watched the sun slowly rise in the east.
He had now been on this deserted island for four years. In the beginning, Zhang Xiaohua had carved marks into the cave wall to keep track of the days, but as his cultivation grew more diligent, he gradually forgot to keep count. Still, with the passage of spring into summer, and autumn into winter, he could tell—this was already the fifth cycle of seasons.
Over those four years, Zhang Xiaohua hadn’t paid attention to how much taller he’d grown or how his appearance had changed. He only knew that through daily cultivation and the tempering of his body by heavenly thunder on stormy nights, his Carefree Heart Sutra had finally reached the brink of the sixth layer of Qi Refining. Yet it was precisely this brink that he couldn’t break through. As for the Big Dipper Divine Fist, progress had slowed considerably toward the end—it had now reached the eighth level. With every two rounds of the form, the internal flow would temper his bones once. But even so, each day allowed for only nine repetitions—no more, no less.
His Jade Blood Refines the Pill Heart—the droplet in the upper dantian that was like a heart—appeared unchanged. Yet the expansion of his divine sense revealed that it was quietly improving all the time. After his divine sense advanced, so too did his understanding of alchemy. Though the deserted island had no herbs to test his skills, his control over the pill furnace and mastery over flame had become extraordinarily precise.
With Earth Escape and Fire Escape, ever since he was able to alternate between the two, Zhang Xiaohua gained deeper insight. Through tireless effort, he’d begun to fuse the incantations of both techniques, forming a black-and-red true qi barrier—one might call it a Fire-Earth Escape technique. It could be used in both fire and earth, and its speed had significantly increased. However, the cost in true qi was considerable.
As for his flying sword technique, there was no need to elaborate. With the increase of both divine sense and true qi, the sword’s speed and range had greatly improved. But the technique was still the same incomplete sword art—it hadn’t changed.
What Zhang Xiaohua felt most proud of was the Dao of restrictions and formations. These arts usually require the guidance of a master, years of effort, and tremendous dedication before seeing results. Yet Zhang Xiaohua, within just two years, had achieved tangible progress. He could now lay down simple restrictions, and though he lacked media like formation flags, he could roughly construct some small-scale formations—though more for show than practical use.
Moreover, Zhang Xiaohua was now able to form seals for minor restrictions and inscribe them into jade slips. To practice this, he deliberately retrieved some old jade slips from his money pouch, whose spiritual energy had long since dissipated. Once the restriction was inscribed, those jade slips would emit a wave of energy once more. But this wave was no longer the jade slip’s original aura—it was the energy fluctuation of a formation.
Of course, during these four years, Zhang Xiaohua had almost finished studying the first jade slip left behind by the True Person Fire Dragon. Among the recorded techniques, there were several he could now perform. For instance, there was a fireball technique—within the cave or the sea of fire, he could easily conjure fireballs the size of eggs. But on the mountaintop, he could only produce a faint spark, which would extinguish almost immediately.
In short, during these four years on the deserted island, Zhang Xiaohua had achieved results that ordinary people might not obtain even in over a decade. This was not only because he was alone on the island with no distractions and could dedicate himself entirely to cultivation, but also because he had cultivated an inconceivably rare Pill Heart, which greatly enhanced his divine sense. He trained day and night without pause, and a single night—especially a stormy night filled with thunder—was worth several days of cultivation. Just based on this, four years of his effort could rival eight years of another’s.
Moreover, most crucial of all—he missed his parents, missed his eldest brother and sister-in-law, missed his second brother, missed the people of the Piaomiao Sect and Huanxi Villa. Even Brother Ma’s smelly feet—he found himself thinking of them. And that faintly smiling face of Meng Dandan, which would often appear in his thoughts without warning, left a mark deep in his heart.
It was precisely to escape these thoughts that he threw himself into cultivation with all his heart. But it was also this same immersion that made the longing in his heart feel all the more bone-deep and soul-piercing.
Every time the morning sun rose, before he began practicing his Big Dipper Divine Fist, he would gaze far into the distance, at the horizon where sea met sky. He would silently think of his family, not even sure in which direction they lay, and curse the True Person Fire Dragon a little in his heart: Why didn’t you leave behind some flying escape technique in the jade slip? Even if you didn’t plan to leave this deserted island, shouldn’t you have at least considered those who might come after you?
Then he would dive even more fervently into his training of restrictions and escape techniques, hoping that one day he might unlock a jade slip that recorded a technique for flight.
After watching the sunrise and thinking of his loved ones, Zhang Xiaohua was just about to begin practicing the Big Dipper Divine Fist when suddenly he caught sight of something red drifting toward the island across the distant sea.
The island faced a hidden current, and every moment of the day, various things would drift past that side of the island—mostly seaweed, fish, or floating planks of wood. But something as conspicuous as this red object was a first. Zhang Xiaohua frowned slightly and immediately extended his divine sense. What he sensed was a person clinging to a piece of wood.
Zhang Xiaohua was overjoyed. He formed a hand seal, and his figure instantly vanished. In the next moment, he reappeared on the beach, standing with hands clasped behind his back, calmly waiting for the person to drift closer.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to rescue the person sooner—it was just that he practiced Earth Escape and Fire Escape, not Water Escape. His levitation technique couldn’t keep him suspended for long either, so how could he go into the water? Besides, he already knew the hidden current would bring the person right to him. There was no need to make unnecessary moves.
Sure enough, after a while, the undercurrent pushed the man to the shore. Just as it was about to carry him away again, Zhang Xiaohua reached out and fished him out of the water.
It was a man of about thirty years of age, tall and sturdy, with dark skin. His features were hard to make out clearly, as they had become distorted from being soaked in water. Needless to say, this person had long since lost all signs of life.
Zhang Xiaohua didn’t bother checking his breath with his fingers—his divine sense had already confirmed that the man had neither heartbeat nor breath. Still, he carefully turned the man over, lifted the bright red cloak draped over him, and pulled back the clothing on his back. There, clearly imprinted into the flesh, was a large blackened handprint, deeply embedded into the skin.
Zhang Xiaohua rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, then turned the man over again. He saw that the man’s right hand was tightly clutching the front of his robes, as though afraid something inside might fall out.
After some thought, Zhang Xiaohua reached into the man’s chest area and fished out a money pouch and a small iron box. He opened the money pouch, glanced inside, then stuffed it back. He then turned his attention to the iron box in his hand, inspecting it closely.
It was an iron box of ancient and simple make, with some carvings on the surface. Rust had formed along the edges and corners, clearly a sign of age. A small, intricate iron lock sealed the box shut.
There had been no key in the money pouch, so Zhang Xiaohua had no choice but to lean over and search the man’s chest again. Still, he found nothing.
“He didn’t even carry the key with him… This must be something valuable, maybe meant to be delivered to someone else? Should I open it? Or leave it be?”
“Of course I should open it. If I don’t, how would I know who it’s meant for? How else can I help deliver it?”
In an instant, Zhang Xiaohua gave himself an extremely reasonable explanation. So, he swept the iron box with his divine sense and, finding no mechanism or traps, reached into his robes and took out his small sword. With a flash of sword light, the lock fell cleanly away—it was swift and tidy.
When he opened the box, it turned out to be nearly empty. Only a rag-like piece of cloth lay at the bottom. Zhang Xiaohua was greatly surprised. “I thought it might be some kind of treasure, but it’s just a piece of ragged cloth.”
Thinking this, he reached in to take it out!