Chapter 162: Combustion
The Linsword was a sword technique, and also a sword—the Dao sword of the Heavenly Academy, or more precisely, it had always been Vice Dean Zhuang’s personal blade. This sword was not ranked on the Hundred Weapons List, but its power was not far from those weapons at the lower end of the list. If an ordinary person were struck three times in succession by the Linsword, no matter how perfect their marrow cleansing, they would be cut apart, or at least severely wounded and unable to rise. Yet Chen Changsheng, supporting himself against the stone wall with his hand, stood up.
But he was still quite seriously injured. Blood oozed from the three sword wounds on his chest, looking somewhat terrifying.
“Is this all you’ve got?”
Zhuang Huanyu looked at him expressionlessly, paused for a moment, then emphasized, “With this level of skill, how are you qualified to be Her Highness’s teacher?”
The “Her Highness” in his words naturally referred not to the Princess of Ping, nor to Prince Chenliu, but to Luoluo.
“If you had truly mastered the Yashiki Step, you might have made me cautious. But your Yashiki Step is ultimately fake—merely an imitation, plausible yet false. How can you use it in battle? It’s nothing but an illusion. As long as I close my eyes, your footwork cannot deceive this world.”
Zhuang Huanyu continued, looking at him, “Just like the true essence circulation methods you taught Her Highness—seemingly exquisite, but in reality, they are crooked paths that cannot enter the hall of true learning, mere clever tricks. If you truly wish Her Highness to have a brighter future, you should let her remain at the Heavenly Academy and solve that problem by studying the orthodox techniques of the Mystic Sect.”
Yes, this was the source of his resentment toward Chen Changsheng, the reason he was dissatisfied with him. He hoped Chen Changsheng would be stronger, to prove to himself and the world that he was worthy of being Her Highness’s teacher, not like now, easily defeated by him, revealed as nothing but a fraud.
“That is a matter for the National Academy. Thank you for your advice, but I may not accept it.”
Chen Changsheng raised his right arm, wiped the blood beads from his chin with his sleeve, and looked at Zhuang Huanyu as he spoke.
Zhuang Huanyu’s sword-like brows lifted slightly, and he glared at him in displeasure, shouting, “Are you still determined to be stubborn? The facts have already proven that no matter how perfect your marrow cleansing or how strong your defensive abilities, you can never be a match for a true strongman, because your true essence is too thin and your realm too poor.”
Chen Changsheng remained silent, lowering his head to gaze at the sword hilt he gripped tightly.
Seeing no reaction from him, Zhuang Huanyu, for some reason, grew even angrier and said coldly, “Cultivation is a great learning; combat ultimately relies on true essence to strike. Since ancient times, cultivation has prioritized marrow cleansing, followed by Zhaozhao and Tongyou. Each barrier has its own logic. Marrow cleansing is the prerequisite for Zhaozhao, but not a means of combat. Your true essence is so thin, Zhaozhao only at the initial stage, yet you want to defeat opponents by relying on your marrow-cleansing abilities—how arrogant and ignorant! Was I wrong to say you’ve taken a crooked path? If you walk it yourself, that’s one thing, but do you want to lead Her Highness down this road of no return?”
The Dust-Washing Tower fell silent, with only the cold, powerful voice of this young Heavenly Academy strongman echoing and landing on the yellow sand-covered floor.
“Too low a realm, nothing to be done. Indeed, Chen Changsheng can only go this far.”
From the dim room on the second floor came the voice of the Dean of the Star-Plucking Academy, tinged with emotion, regret, and also relief.
This room was very large. People sat silently in their seats, listening to Zhuang Huanyu’s voice from outside the window, making the same judgment about this match.
In the previous round, Chen Changsheng had been able to defeat that young strongman from Frost City, ranked in the twenties on the Azure Cloud List, because he had maximized his speed and footwork, and the sudden use of the Yashiki Step had caught the Frost City expert off guard, ultimately leading to his defeat at close range where Chen Changsheng could fully leverage his strength.
But in this round, his opponent was Zhuang Huanyu.
Zhuang Huanyu was the most outstanding student of the Heavenly Academy, cultivating the orthodox techniques of the Mystic Sect. Every step of his cultivation was solid and stable, never reckless. With the guidance of the academy’s teachers and elders, he was extremely experienced. From the start, he used his absolute advantage in true essence and techniques to directly crush Chen Changsheng, never giving his opponent any chance to close in, naturally eliminating any possibility of surprises.
“Dean Mao Qiuyu’s esteemed disciple is indeed extraordinary,” sighed the Archbishop of the Ancestral Temple.
The big shots in the room had been watching the battle for a long time. They had seen Zhexiu and Gou Hanshi in action and knew that Zhuang Huanyu was not the strongest in realm or cultivation, but he was the most stable. In other words, it would be difficult for him to leap across realms to defeat a strongman like Gou Hanshi, but any opponent weaker than him would absolutely have no way to defeat him.
Especially after watching this match, people even vaguely felt that Zhuang Huanyu’s level was higher than rumored. Even against Her Highness Luoluo or Zhexiu, he might have a fighting chance, with the outcome hard to predict in advance. How could his opponent in this match, Chen Changsheng, possibly be his match?
Yes, the big shots watching, including the priests of the Li Palace in other rooms, had already pronounced Chen Changsheng’s defeat.
After several rounds of matches, people had confirmed that this student of the National Academy, who couldn’t cultivate a few months ago, had indeed succeeded in marrow cleansing. But he was only at the initial stage of Zhaozhao. Whether in terms of true essence quantity, purity, or other aspects, there was still a significant gap between him and the true strongmen participating in the Grand Examination.
That Chen Changsheng had made it this far, entering the top eight of the Grand Examination matches, was due not only to luck but entirely to his unimaginable speed and strength. But now, his luck had lost its meaning because all his opponents were true strongmen. No matter how incredible his speed and strength, they were meaningless because those strongmen could directly crush him with their realm and true essence quantity. As long as they didn’t make major tactical mistakes like that Frost City young expert in the previous round, he had no chance of victory—the gap in realm could not be bridged by effort or courage alone.
“So true essence quantity is really the most important thing?” Chen Changsheng muttered to himself, looking at the short sword he gripped tightly.
Zhuang Huanyu frowned slightly at him, wondering what he meant by saying this now.
Chen Changsheng’s face showed no expression, appearing somewhat dull. No one could tell that inside, he was struggling, hesitating, uncertain whether to take the risk.
A cultivator’s true essence comes from the stars in the night sky. While drawing starlight to cleanse the marrow, the star radiance containing strange energy also enters the cultivator’s body. Only when Zhaozhao is achieved does the cultivator’s divine sense touch or ignite it, turning it into true essence that the cultivator can control freely.
Chen Changsheng’s true essence quantity was indeed very small and impure. His meridians were all severed, so how could he circulate true essence smoothly? But his body still harbored a great deal of star radiance. In other words, if he was willing, he could make himself have more true essence—but that would be a huge risk.
In the underground space beneath the abandoned well at North New Bridge, before that black dragon, he had somehow skipped the barrier of marrow cleansing and directly succeeded in Zhaozhao. His body was now much stronger than it was then, but he still found it hard to decide to undergo Zhaozhao again, because failure would likely mean death.
The medical case in the appendix of the Zhaozhao Sutra and his own experience both proved this.
Facing the shadow of death for the first risk required only courage; the second risk required even more courage.
Fortunately, on the night of the Green Vine Banquet, the day he forcibly achieved Zhaozhao, he had experienced life and death twice in that underground space before the black dragon. He had thought deeply about death, which he had pondered for many years, and had come to understand many things—facing death, he still wouldn’t surrender, but he was no longer as afraid as before.
Just like now, facing a strong enemy like Zhuang Huanyu, he wouldn’t surrender, nor would he be afraid.
He raised his head, looked at Zhuang Huanyu, and said, “In that case, let me try.”
Try what? Apart from him, no one in the Dust-Washing Tower knew, and no one could even guess.
Chen Changsheng closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then exhaled it all.
It was as if bubbles were gurgling up from the bottom of a spring.
Between breaths, his lungs were almost empty of air, suddenly hollow—empty even of air.
His sea of consciousness awakened, with gentle ripples on its surface.
A highly condensed divine sense was generated from his sea of consciousness, drifting upward, heading somewhere in the blue sky, as if about to leave this world.
In an instant, that divine sense returned from the blue sky to the ground, contracted inward, from outside to inside, entering his body, arriving at that small world.
His divine sense turned into a gentle breeze, freely moving back and forth in that world.
The breeze was him, and he was the breeze.
He saw those nine mountain ranges cutting across, saw the boundless wilderness, saw that lake suspended in the air.
Finally, he saw that snowfield.
The snowfield was cut into dozens of pieces by extremely deep cracks.
Compared to when he had internally observed during Zhaozhao a few days ago, this snowfield was much thicker. Even now, some snowflakes were still falling.
These days, he had never stopped drawing starlight into his body.
Those snowflakes were all extremely pure star radiance. Once touched and ignited by divine sense, they would turn into clear water nourishing this world—that clear water was true essence.
In Zhuang Huanyu’s words, in many people’s words, in countless sentences from the Dao Canon, for a cultivator, the most important thing was true essence.
Chen Changsheng hesitated for a very brief moment.
He really wasn’t that afraid of death now, but he didn’t want to endure that pain again, because it could easily cause him to faint on the spot. If that happened, this match would naturally be lost.
But it was something that had to be done.
Hesitation aside, the gentle breeze did not stop. It drifted lightly toward a piece of snowfield in the southeast corner.
Like a wildfire falling on a mountain covered with dead leaves.
With a roar, that snowfield burned fiercely.
The room on the second floor was very quiet. The big shots sat silently in their seats, waiting for Chen Changsheng to admit defeat, waiting for this match to end, waiting for this year’s Grand Examination to finally write its conclusion, for the attempts or experiments of the old faction of the National Church to suffer the heaviest blow.
But at that moment, a surge of energy suddenly erupted within the Dust-Washing Tower.
That energy was somewhat violent, very intense, as if someone had lit a bonfire downstairs, and the fire was huge.
Mo Yu’s expression tightened. She rose to her feet, her palace dress trailing a blur in the dim room as she instantly flashed to the window.
Her gaze passed through the paper flowers on the window, looking downstairs. Her face showed no expression, but a strange light appeared in her eyes.
The big shots present were all strongmen with deep realms. How could they not sense what that energy represented? Without bothering to pay attention to the level of strength Mo Yu had just displayed, they all came to the windows and looked downstairs. As their gazes landed, their expressions changed drastically, and for a moment, they were speechless.
Downstairs, in front of the stone wall, Chen Changsheng stood with his eyes closed on the yellow sand. Beside his bare feet were sand grains wet with blood flowing from his body.
That violent, intense energy came from his body.
People clearly felt that his realm was rising, the true essence in his body was increasing, and his aura was growing stronger.
In their divine sense perception, he was becoming brighter and brighter.
Like a real bonfire.
“How is this possible?”
“How is this possible?”
People stood by the windows, watching this scene, their expressions becoming extremely strange and profoundly shocked.
Chen Changsheng was now actually beginning to internally observe during Zhaozhao, converting star radiance into true essence!
The problem was, except for the very beginning, when a cultivator transitions from the marrow-cleansing realm to the Zhaozhao realm and burns all previously accumulated star radiance into true essence, causing such a strong overflow of energy, subsequent cultivation of star radiance to nourish true essence was a trickling process. How could it cause such a commotion?
Was this Chen Changsheng’s first time internally observing during Zhaozhao?
Impossible. Through the previous rounds of matches, people were very clear that he had already completed the cultivation from marrow cleansing to Zhaozhao; otherwise, there couldn’t be true essence flowing in his body.
So what was this scene about?
Could it be that someone in this world could undergo the first Zhaozhao twice?
The Dust-Washing Tower fell into a dead silence.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
Whether it was the knowledgeable big shots by the windows or the Li Palace priests.
Zhuang Huanyu was even more shocked, unable to speak.
The temperature in the tower instantly rose.
Chen Changsheng had his eyes closed, but the yellow sand at his feet began to float. Those sand grains clumped together by blood, under the invisible high-temperature baking, dried and cracked apart.
All that blood turned into green smoke.
In the swirling yellow sand, Chen Changsheng’s face grew redder and redder, and one could feel his body becoming hotter and hotter.
Watching this scene, an Archbishop of the Holy Hall slightly furrowed his brows, calming down.
He didn’t know why Chen Changsheng could undergo the first Zhaozhao twice, but he could see that this youth couldn’t control the burning of the star radiance in his body.
“If this continues, even if he isn’t burned to death, his mind will be damaged by the heat,” Prince Chenliu said worriedly.
As long as marrow cleansing succeeded, a cultivator’s body could withstand the high temperature and power generated when star radiance converted into true essence during the first Zhaozhao. But Chen Changsheng’s current Zhaozhao was clearly strange. The amount of star radiance burning in his body seemed too great, and his body temperature kept rising uncontrollably.
The Dust-Washing Tower grew hotter and hotter. Suddenly, the sound of cicadas came from outside the tower, as if summer had arrived early.
Deep within the Li Palace stood a hall.
In a corner of the hall was a gray clay pot.
In the pot was a plant with several green stems, but only one green leaf.
The edge of the green leaf was slightly wilted and curled.
“Getting old really makes my memory worse. I forgot to water it again.”
The Pope walked to the clay pot, sighed as he looked at the green leaf.
Then he picked up a wooden ladle and reached toward the pool beside the pot.
(I just remembered it’s Monday. Please cast your recommendation votes. Thank you. I’ll try to have the next chapter out by half past twelve.)