Chapter 370: Understanding the Bitter Water
Ning Zhuo shook his head. “That’s not too appropriate. Many people already know I have this kind of need. If these cultivated treasures are stolen, I’ll be the first suspect.”
Sun Lingtong shrugged. “Then I’ll just clean out their entire storage. Problem solved, no?”
Ning Zhuo let out a deep sigh. “To steal right under the noses of Nascent Soul stage cultivators—honestly, that’s incredibly risky.”
“But if there’s truly no other choice, I guess we’ll have to do it.”
“Forget it, let’s not talk about this right now. Boss, please stand guard for me.”
Sun Lingtong nodded repeatedly. “Xiao Zhuo, go and comprehend. I’ll be watching over you.”
Ning Zhuo took a few steps forward and came beneath the Spirit-Concealing Willow.
The willow seemed to sense Ning Zhuo’s presence, and once again, its branches gently brushed his face.
Ning Zhuo smiled faintly, feeling the tree’s welcome. “Willow, oh willow, it’s only been a few days, and you missed me already?”
“This time, I need your strength once more, to help me taste the bitter water.”
“If I become stronger, I can create a better environment for you too.”
Sun Lingtong giggled. “Little bro, you’re pretty amusing. Talking to a tree? Hurry up and drink the water.”
Ning Zhuo looked back at Sun Lingtong. “Boss, the first time I saw this tree, I felt a strange closeness. I can’t help but speak to it.”
“Maybe because I’ve cultivated the *Fire Burial Prajna Spirit-Resolving Sutra*, I’ve come to feel more strongly that all things have spirit. Trees like this Spirit-Concealing Willow can inspire wisdom—their spirituality must be even greater.”
“It’s just that it has no mouth or nose, can’t speak, can’t gesture.”
“Honestly, every time I speak to it like this, I naturally feel a sense of calm.”
Sun Lingtong shrugged. “Well, that’s not bad either. Consider it your own method to get into the right state of mind for comprehension.”
Ning Zhuo said no more. He took out a meditation mat and sat cross-legged.
He then retrieved a small jade bottle—inside it was a bit of bitter water.
Ning Zhuo adjusted his breath, fully settling his state. His mind lake calmed, as still as an ancient well, his thoughts clear as glass.
Uncorking the bottle, he slowly poured the bitter water into his mouth.
The moment it touched his tongue, Ning Zhuo felt an indescribable bitterness!
This bitterness wasn’t just on the palate—it pierced straight into the depths of the soul. His throat burned, and even his spirit let out a wailing cry of agony.
As the bitter water slid down, it seemed to transform into a stream of cold that rapidly spread through his body. From his stomach, a chill swept into his limbs, bringing with it an unprecedented sense of cold and shivering.
His heartbeat accelerated rapidly. Cold sweat oozed from his forehead, and his body trembled involuntarily.
Images of his sins began to surface in his mind. The faces of those he had hurt, those he owed, those he had wronged—they all emerged vividly, in excruciating detail that left no room to look away.
The Three Ghosts of the Huang Family, Ning Zhanji, Ning Ji, Ning Ze, Ning Xiaohui, Zhu Xuanji, Meng Chong, Black Wind Tiger Demon, Deputy Mountain Fox God, Lin Shanshan...
The memories were so clear, every detail vivid, making them inescapable.
Whispers and cries began to echo in his ears—voices he had once ignored, now revealing the depths of his guilt and remorse.
An invisible pressure enveloped him. It felt like countless hands were pulling at his soul, trying to drag him into an abyss of endless sin.
Sun Lingtong watched as Ning Zhuo drank the bitter water. His face twisted in agony, tears quickly streaming from his tightly shut eyes.
Sun Lingtong clenched his teeth, silently calling out in his heart, “Xiao Zhuo!”
He was incredibly anxious, fists clenched, yet utterly powerless to help.
But in the next moment, he heard Ning Zhuo let out a cold snort.
Beneath the Spirit-Concealing Willow, the white-robed youth wore an expression as cold as ice. The prior pain and distortion seemed frozen and silenced.
Ning Zhuo slowly opened his eyes, a steely resolve blazing in them.
He sneered inwardly. “All things under heaven strive to thrive. It’s all a struggle. The path of cultivation appears vast, the arts many—but in truth, there’s only one road.”
“The path of striving to win!”
“No matter righteous, demonic, or evil paths, strength always comes first. Only with enough power will people treat me with courtesy, speak to me of rules and reason.”
“If I had enough power, I could’ve saved my mother back on Fire Persimmon Mountain. Why would I need to run around like this now?”
“Only by becoming stronger—this is the premise, the foundation. Mere bitter water cannot shake my resolve!”
“Only by moving forward, not fussing over details, and constantly striving to overcome—this is the way for me, Ning Zhuo, to succeed!”
People are different.
When facing hardship and poverty, everyone experiences, chooses, and responds in their own way.
Some draw strength from their struggles, growing ever stronger. They never waver in their will, believing all difficulties are temporary. As long as they set their minds, no challenge is insurmountable—it is but a test in the course of life.
Though only sixteen, Ning Zhuo’s life had been one of intense suppression. He was criticized, treated coldly, forced to disguise himself at all times, separated from his mother, tested under Sun Lingtong’s guidance, and racked his brains trying to figure out how to deal with Golden Core and Nascent Soul level foes.
And he himself—was still only at the Qi Refining Stage!
The *Bitter Cold Sutra*...
Hanzhou had made it clear—this scripture was about drawing power from suffering and cold, to ultimately transcend it by one’s own strength.
Had Ning Zhuo’s sixteen years not all been about self-redemption?
In this, Hanzhou was absolutely right—Ning Zhuo truly embodied the essence of the *Bitter Cold Sutra*.
The Buddha Heart Demon Seal’s protection was just superficial. Ning Zhuo’s true nature was just like this!
Even if I am poor and lowly, even if the enemy is as vast as mountains and sky—my will shall not bend, my heart shall not break.
Let all of it be whetstones, the mire before the dragon’s ascent.
A sword’s sharpness comes from honing, and plum blossoms bloom from bitter cold!
So-called hardship—it is merely life’s gift.
And this bitter water, upon careful taste, even had a hint of sweetness.
Ning Zhuo didn’t just stabilize his emotions; he used the experience to temper his resolve further.
The true essence contained within the bitter water flowed through his heart like a mighty river.
*Frost Fist*, *Old Cold Legs*, *Suffering Body*, *Labor of Pain*, *Pouring Out Misery*… one after another, these martial techniques were understood and mastered by Ning Zhuo, their essences swiftly absorbed.
Once the essence was grasped, applying it to himself became second nature, with no barriers at all!
When Ning Zhuo finally finished his comprehension and rose, Sun Lingtong immediately approached to check on him.
Ning Zhuo’s eyes sparkled. His temperament had undergone a layer of transformation—his entire being renewed, full of vitality. “Boss, I feel excellent now.”
He turned to look at the Spirit-Concealing Willow.
On the willow, only half a branch showed signs of withering.