Volume One: The Emperor’s Sword Chapter 40: The Poor Can Hardly Become Immortal

Upon hearing Mu Qingyao's words, the assembled disciples could not help but cry out in astonishment.

“Ten levels of Qi Refining! It’s been years since the Sword Palace has seen a sword disciple at the tenth level of Qi Refining!”

“Qi Refining Perfection—so someone really can reach such a realm.”

“I’m so envious! I’d be satisfied if I could just reach the ninth level.”

“The aura between the ninth and tenth levels isn’t that different—how did Junior Sister Mu tell the difference?”

Zhou Yuanliang posed the last question.

“The number of swords controlled,” Mu Qingyao replied succinctly.

“But he only activated three flying swords just now,” Zhou Yuanliang said, puzzled.

“He was standing on one as well,” Yun Que answered on her behalf.

Only then did Zhou Yuanliang and the others realize. The opponent manipulated three flying swords and stood atop one, making four in total!

The greatest difference between the ninth and tenth levels of Qi Refining is the number of swords one can control. The former can manage at most three, while the latter can handle four!

Zhou Yuanliang curled his lips bitterly. “Yun Hou, watch your back. Yan Xu may seem rough and unrestrained, but he’s actually narrow-minded and holds grudges—be careful of his revenge.”

Yun Que smiled calmly and said nothing.

Zhou Yuanliang nodded, fully understanding Yun Que’s indifference. After all, someone who could use an imperial edict as toilet paper, openly defy the elders of the Southern Court, and face a seventh-level demon head-on would hardly fear the so-called foremost sword disciple.

On the way back, Zhou Yuanliang carried the cold, lifeless body in his arms. Yun Que walked beside him, at the rear of the group.

“Yun Hou, do you believe the events at Misty Mountain were a coincidence or orchestrated? Where did all those bones in the mountain belly come from?” Zhou Yuanliang stared ahead, his tone low and heavy.

“There was coincidence, and there was intent,” Yun Que slowed his pace and explained:

“The tree demon was drawn by the aura of the bones and settled in Misty Mountain, scattering spiritual materials as bait to lure and kill those climbing the mountain for blood food. By chance, we became targets of the tree demon’s hunt and nearly lost our lives.”

“And the intent?” Zhou Yuanliang asked.

“The bones in the mountain belly may be tied to human deeds. That mountain of bones could not have accumulated in the short term—it must have been built up over years. My guess is that someone has been murdering and dumping bodies in Misty Mountain.”

From the clues gathered on this journey, Yun Que deduced his suspicion. Though he couldn’t be certain, he could infer that there was a deeper plot behind the Misty Mountain incident.

Yet he couldn’t decipher who was killing, nor the motive.

“I thought I’d just climb the mountain to find a few herbs for amusement, but so many lives were lost. Humans are truly fragile,” Zhou Yuanliang tightened his hold on the corpse in his arms and murmured, “Rest assured, Junior Sister. Whether by chance or by design, this grudge—I, your senior brother, will remember, until death.”

At this moment, Yun Que saw not the usual carefree demeanor upon Zhou Yuanliang, but something else.

He saw a heart of true sincerity.

In contrast to Xuan Wenyan and Yan Xu, who feign propriety in public only to be despicable in private, Zhou Yuanliang, though often unruly and indulgent, was a genuine friend.

One with whom you could share both your heart and your life.

Of course, sincerity is one thing; Yun Que had no intention of returning the black stones in his pocket.

He’d saved the person, so the stones brought out by Zhou Yuanliang were naturally his as well. That was Yun Que’s logic.

After returning to the Northern Court, Yun Que toyed with the black stone in his hand, clicking his tongue in admiration.

Cool to the touch, the stone gave a sense of calm to the soul—perfect for steadying the mind in moments of turmoil.

He wondered what material it was.

He pulled out the string of black stones he’d collected from the tree demon, and compared them—they were basically the same, made of the same material.

No matter what else, any stone worn by a seventh-level demon must be precious.

He counted them.

Twenty-six stones in total.

Since they took up no space, Yun Que put them away in his storage pouch, intending to ask someone about their value when he had time. At the very least, he needed to know the market price.

This trip to Misty Mountain, that was all Yun Que gained.

The losses, however, were considerable.

They could only be described as disastrous!

His protective inner armor had taken Xuan Wenyan’s sneak attack head-on and was so damaged it was basically unusable.

The Thunder-Sealing Sword had exploded while working with Mu Qingyao to escape—utterly lost.

Nine premium magical weapons had been used as traps, all stuck in the tree demon and carried away, with no chance of recovery.

Even the demon blind snake had nearly been lost.

He rummaged through Xuan Wenyan’s storage pouch.

Aside from the two premium flying swords the opponent had used, there were over thirty spirit stones and two bottles of pills.

It was a pity about the poisoned dagger and fire talisman—otherwise, the loot from slaying Xuan Wenyan alone would have been considerable.

He took out the pills to examine them.

One bottle was Spirit Essence Pills, the other Blood-Coagulating Pills; ten of each.

Yun Que checked the books and learned that Spirit Essence Pills were for boosting cultivation in the Qi Refining stage—one of the strongest pills for that realm.

A single Spirit Essence Pill was worth over ten spirit stones!

Apparently, Xuan Wenyan had prepared this bottle to break through to the ninth level, but fate had other plans, and Yun Que benefited instead.

The Blood-Coagulating Pills were for stopping bleeding and replenishing energy, specifically for external injuries; one pill cost a spirit stone.

“Even at the eighth level of Qi Refining, there are so many pills to consume. The Eastern Court is really generous with its sword disciples.”

Yun Que was quite envious.

He thought for a moment, then poured half the Blood-Coagulating Pills into the black porcelain bottle containing the blind snake.

The snake’s injuries were severe; perhaps the pills would help.

After all, it had lent a hand today, and Yun Que wasn’t stingy.

After sorting his spoils, Yun Que sat cross-legged on his couch and placed a Spirit Essence Pill in his mouth.

He wanted to see if the pill would work on his sword meridian body.

The pill transformed into a cold stream, surging through his limbs and bones like a tide, rushing into every acupoint and finally being absorbed slowly by the dantian.

He sat from afternoon until nightfall before opening his eyes.

It worked!

In just half a day, his cultivation had improved noticeably, almost reaching the third level of Qi Refining.

Such potent medicine!

It was his first time taking an elixir, and Yun Que was amazed by its efficacy.

No wonder everyone says that cultivating with the aid of pills and spirit stones yields the best results.

The difference between taking pills and not is worlds apart!

Though the pills were wonderful, they were regrettably expensive. Yun Que felt a stab of pain when he thought of the Spirit Essence Pill’s value.

A single pill worth ten spirit stones—equal to a hundred thousand taels of silver.

It’s hard for the poor to cultivate immortality; a single dose could bankrupt a marquis’s estate.

Remembering he hadn’t yet reported the events at Misty Mountain to his senior sister, Yun Que got up and went to Xue Ziyi’s courtyard.

He knocked, but got no answer.

In truth, Yun Que wanted not only to report, but also to learn from his senior sister what the Sword Chief had gained today—whether the tree demon had been found, or if the origin of the bone mountain had been uncovered.

Since there was no response, he left.

On his way back, he passed the Northern Court’s main hall, which was pitch black and tightly shut.

The main hall was remote, rarely visited by disciples, especially since the senior sister often secluded herself there, forbidding others to disturb her. Over time, even passing disciples would take a detour.

Seeing the hall, Yun Que recalled the ghost face that had appeared on the floor last time.

At that moment, his senior sister’s demeanor had clearly concealed some secret. Xue Ziyi was not someone who could hide her feelings—whatever she felt, it always showed on her face.

“Could the main hall of the Northern Court be haunted?”

Just as Yun Que pondered the possibility, he suddenly saw a ghastly face protruding from a window of the hall!

It was as if an evil spirit was trying to break free!