The next morning, the rising sun had just begun its ascent.
Mu Yun sat cross-legged, his eyes slightly closed, his entire body as still as a sculpture. Within him, his blood and qi surged like a mighty river, coursing through his limbs and bones. Beneath his skin, a faint golden luster emerged, as if flowing glass were moving within him. The hallmark of the mid-stage of Body Refining—skin of bronze, bones of iron—had already manifested upon him.
Among mortals, the mid-stage of Body Refining was already considered a master, enough to hold sway over an entire region.
After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes. A glint of light flashed briefly within them, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
…
"Since you've finished your training, come to the main hall," came Old Man Zhu's calm voice from outside the window.
Mu Yun rose and walked inside, his gaze falling upon the wooden table.
On it lay a broken ancient longsword, its blade mottled with age. Beside it sat a small cyan pouch, faintly shimmering with a subtle glow.
These were the belongings of the blue-robed cultivator surnamed Leng from the day before.
Old Man Zhu's expression was deep and thoughtful, his eyes fixed intently on the two items on the table. After a long silence, he slowly spoke: "Yun'er, tell me in detail what you saw in the forest yesterday."
Mu Yun nodded and calmly recounted the events of the previous night.
A quarter of an hour later, Old Man Zhu gave a slight nod and said in a grave tone: "You handled this well. But you must also understand that the world is treacherous, and the human heart is hard to fathom. On the path of cultivation, compassion is not to be discarded, but you must have a sharp edge to protect yourself—only then can you stand firm."
Having said this, his gaze sharpened, and his voice grew low: "Since you have already reached the mid-stage of Body Refining, starting tomorrow, you need not continue cutting down Purple Bamboo. I have other plans."
With that, he waved his hand.
Mu Yun gave Old Man Zhu a quiet look, knowing that the old man had already made up his mind. He said nothing more, bowed respectfully, and turned to leave.
He walked alone toward his room. His steps appeared calm, but within his heart, waves of doubt and unease churned like a raging sea.
He had not told Old Man Zhu the truth—that the cultivator surnamed Leng had died by his own hand. Yet even he himself did not fully understand what had happened.
Not long after waking up, a series of memories—both foreign and familiar—had suddenly appeared in his mind.
In the moment the cultivator surnamed Leng had struck, it was as if a strange "other self" had suddenly awakened, taken control of his body, and directed his every move. Even though his consciousness remained, he could clearly feel what he was doing.
"Why is this happening? What am I doing?" Mu Yun murmured to himself, his gaze slightly unfocused.
In his mind, fragmented scenes surfaced one after another.
"Nuclear arc reactor system… plasma light wave…"
"Antimatter is spiritual energy; the special factor in genes is the spiritual root."
"The antimatter world."
"Earth…"
Unfamiliar words slipped quietly from his lips, chaotic fragments tumbling through his mind like surging tides, yet indistinct as mist.
"Could it be… that I have been possessed?" he asked himself in a low voice, his expression growing increasingly solemn.
But then, his heart jolted, and an even more unsettling thought surfaced.
"No… or perhaps… this was always mine?"
Mu Yun paused in his steps and slowly extended his hand. Silently, he commanded: Plasma light wave… fire!
Yet nothing happened.
In the empty room, only the sound of his own breathing echoed back.
Mu Yun smiled bitterly… and shook his head.
…
After Mu Yun left, silence filled the room.
Old Man Zhu remained still for a moment, then slowly reached out and gently grasped the broken ancient sword. His fingers traced slowly along the blade, the motion tender, as if he were caressing an old friend he had not seen for many years.
"Blazing Sun Sword… Huayang Sect…"
He murmured softly, his gaze deep as an abyss.
This sword belonged to the Huayang Sect. Only a Foundation Establishment cultivator could wield it. Yet now, its bearer had died at Yun'er's hands!
What strange mystery lay hidden within this?
Old Man Zhu's gaze turned somber. After a long moment of contemplation, he sighed softly, slowly set down the broken sword, and clasped his hands behind his back. He raised his head toward the void, as if he could see through the dust of time into a distant, ancient past.
"Enough… if this is Heaven's will, then this old man will follow Heaven's will and indulge in one final act of madness!"
His voice was low, carrying a long-lost sharpness and resolve.
…
The next day, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
Mu Yun was still in a light sleep when he heard a steady call: "Yun'er, rise."
He quickly washed up and entered Old Man Zhu's room.
Old Man Zhu stood with his hands behind his back, pointing toward the paper and a small pouch of silver pieces on the table. His tone was calm: "Go to Qingchuan City. Find the Jubao Pavilion. Bring back everything listed on this paper."
Mu Yun picked up the paper and scanned it—
Black Obsidian Iron, ten jin; Solid Copper, three jin; Qu Stone, two liang.
A slight frown creased his brow as he looked up at Old Man Zhu: "Old Master, I've never heard of these things before… what are they for?"
Old Man Zhu's expression did not change, and his tone remained flat: "Their purpose will be revealed when the time comes."
"Have you memorized what is written?"
Mu Yun nodded.
Old Man Zhu then took from his robes a small black stone, about the size of a button, carved with two vigorous characters—Zhu on one side, Mu on the other.
He handed the stone to Mu Yun, his tone solemn: "This is a token. When you reach the Jubao Pavilion, find an old man surnamed Huang. Give this to him, and he will arrange the rest."
Mu Yun took the stone. The moment his fingers touched it, he felt a faint, strange fluctuation flow from within, as if some power were sealed inside. He stored it away without comment, took a deep breath, and bowed. "Understood, Old Master."
Old Man Zhu was silent for a moment, then slowly added: "On your way to Qingchuan City, be careful. Trust no one lightly, and do not reveal your cultivation level."
Mu Yun's heart gave a faint leap.
He was still an ordinary person, without cultivation to speak of—yet Old Man Zhu was telling him to hide it…
This old master has probably already noticed something…
His thoughts churned, but he kept his expression calm and gave a slight bow. "I understand."
Old Man Zhu gave him a long, searching look, then waved his hand. "Go."
…
To reach Qingchuan City from his dwelling, Mu Yun had to pass through a dense forest before reaching the official road. Now, he had already stepped onto it.
The road was wide, wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side. Though the occasional protruding tree root broke the surface, it did not hinder travel, and the path was still relatively smooth.
It was noon. The sun hung high, its blazing rays falling through the branches and leaves of the towering ancient trees, casting dappled shadows.
Mu Yun leaned against a sturdy tree root, breathing lightly. He wore a simple gray short robe, old but clean. His black hair was casually tied behind his head, giving him a relaxed, untrammeled air. Had it not been for his handsome features, this outfit would have made him easily lost in a crowd.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, but his gaze drifted into the distance, his thoughts wandering with it.
The events of the past day churned in his mind like a brand seared into his memory. The death of the cultivator surnamed Leng, the strange sensation within his body, the peculiar materials Old Man Zhu had listed… all of it felt like a scroll slowly being unrolled, yet he could not see what lay at its end.
A breeze swept by, carrying a hint of coolness.
Mu Yun took a deep breath, pulled the blade of grass from his lips, and suddenly stamped his foot against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. His figure shot forward like a hunting leopard—his steps light, his speed like thunder. In moments, he had covered several li.
…
Long after Mu Yun had left, Old Man Zhu still sat in his room.
His expression was calm, his fingers absently playing with the storage pouch Mu Yun had brought back. His gaze was focused, lost in thought.
"According to the family's artifact refining method, with my current cultivation, if I use this Blazing Sun Sword as a foundation, and supplement it with Extreme Cold Ice, Black Obsidian Iron, Solid Copper, Qu Stone, Weak Water, Blue Floatstone, and Mysterious Wood, I might be able to forge a mid-grade magical treasure," he murmured to himself, his tone carrying a measure of deliberation and consideration.
"A mid-grade magical treasure… enough to protect oneself below the Golden Core stage. For now, I will prepare this as a safeguard for Yun'er."
His eyes glinted as he reached out and stroked the broken Blazing Sun Sword. Though the blade was damaged, its edge had not been extinguished. Faintly, a trace of scorching fluctuation still emanated from it.
"The storage pouch of this fallen cultivator contains the last three materials. As for Black Obsidian Iron, Solid Copper, and Qu Stone, though they are rare in the mortal world, they should still be obtainable from Old Huang Zhuo."
"Only the Extreme Cold Ice is exceptionally rare. It can only be found in the cold, shadowed places deep within the Great Qingchuan Mountain Range." Old Man Zhu's gaze drifted into the distance as he spoke softly.
"It seems I must venture into the cultivation world once more—after all these years."
"…"