Chapter 31: Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, Fourth Layer
The winter was harsh, the Clear Sky Sect courtyard blanketed in snow and ice.
The cold that day seemed to pierce straight into one’s heart.
After hearing the news from Qin Jue, both Li Qingqiu and Zhang Yuchun’s expressions changed.
They had never expected Wu Baoyu to die just like that.
Although Wu Baoyu hadn’t been in the Clear Sky Sect for long, they had lived and trained together every day.
His death brought an undeniable shock to their hearts.
Zhang Yuchun was hit the hardest—after all, it was he who had invited Wu Baoyu up the mountain, and he had been the one who interacted with him the most.
Now, upon hearing of Wu Baoyu’s tragic death, his entire body trembled slightly.
The first to react was Yang Jueding.
He deliberately raised his brows and asked in surprise, “A Demonic Cult Protector? That’s a top master! How could he be so foolish as to storm the imperial palace alone?”
His words drew Qin Jue’s attention.
Qin Jue withdrew his gaze from Qin Ye and looked at Yang Jueding as he replied, “Indeed. I was puzzled when I first heard it too. They say he may have gone mad from inner deviation. After all, since the current emperor ascended the throne, he has ordered a purge of the Demonic Cult. To those remnants, they must harbor deep hatred toward him.”
“One must admit, those old-generation martial masters renowned across the world are truly formidable. The imperial palace is guarded tightly, yet he managed to break through the main gates and fight his way to the emperor’s bedchamber—unbelievable. It’s said even the Imperial Guards were alarmed that night, and the Heaven-Protecting Guards struggled greatly before finally subduing him. He truly had the courage and might to fight a thousand men alone. If such a man had fought on the battlefield, it would’ve been a blessing for the Great Li Dynasty. Unfortunately, he fell into the demonic path.”
“Wu Baoyu committed countless evils—he deserved death. But I fear the emperor, being frightened, may once again launch a great cleansing of the martial world.”
As he finished speaking, a worried look appeared on Qin Jue’s face.
Seeing Zhang Yuchun’s strange expression, Li Qingqiu asked, “Aside from this, is there any other major event in the martial world?”
Qin Jue turned to him with a smile.
“Of course. The martial world never lacks for fresh stories. I’ve heard the Azure Sect and the Seven Peaks Alliance are about to clash. That Azure Sect is ambitious—they might become the next Demonic Cult.”
Qin Ye, noticing Yang Jueding winking at him, quickly picked up a broom and turned his back to them to resume sweeping snow.
Yet tears streamed silently down his cheeks.
His tears fell upon the snow, leaving no trace—just like Wu Baoyu’s death.
After chatting for a while, Li Qingqiu took the opportunity to leave with Zhang Yuchun, leaving Yang Jueding to accompany the guests.
Back in his quarters, Li Qingqiu had barely closed the door when Zhang Yuchun suddenly slapped himself across the face.
Li Qingqiu turned and frowned.
“What are you doing?”
Gritting his teeth, Zhang Yuchun said, “If I hadn’t brought him to the Clear Sky Sect, the county magistrate wouldn’t have discovered him, and he wouldn’t have stormed the palace. Senior Brother… he did it to clear us of suspicion. By dying, no one would question who he was in contact with before.”
Li Qingqiu shook his head.
“You couldn’t have foreseen that. And even if he hadn’t come to the Clear Sky Sect, I believe he still would’ve gone to the palace sooner or later. Did you forget why he accepted others’ challenges? He wasn’t seeking defeat—he only wanted to pass down his martial legacy. During his stay on the mountain, didn’t you notice? He seemed lifeless, his will dimmed, as if nothing in the world could surprise or delight him.”
Hearing this, Zhang Yuchun’s expression softened, though his heart remained heavy.
It was his first time losing someone he knew—and in such a tragic way.
A smoldering fire burned in his chest, with no outlet for release.
Li Qingqiu said earnestly, “Second Brother, the Clear Sky Sect is still far too weak. Many things are beyond our control. All we can do is become stronger—to prevent the tragedies of others from repeating.”
Zhang Yuchun took a deep breath and nodded slightly.
After a few more words, Zhang Yuchun left.
Li Qingqiu remained alone in the room, sitting cross-legged on his bed, his expression dark and solemn.
Wu Baoyu’s death had truly shaken him.
Jiang Zhaoxia had only managed to defeat Wu Baoyu after breaking through to the Third Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm—and that was only a sparring match.
If Wu Baoyu had fought with a death wish, he would have been even stronger.
Someone in the imperial palace had slain a martial master comparable to the Third Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm!
But on second thought, Li Qingqiu found it reasonable.
As the man with the greatest authority under heaven, the emperor naturally commanded the strongest warriors of the Great Li Dynasty.
Not all experts chose to live in seclusion among mountains.
Didn’t martial artists pursue strength for the sake of fame and fortune?
Li Qingqiu’s desire for strength grew stronger than ever.
The world was in chaos—who knew when the imperial court’s blade would fall upon the Clear Sky Sect?
After meditating alone for the time it took a stick of incense to burn, he left his room and joined his disciples in preparing for the New Year.
This was the second New Year the Clear Sky Sect celebrated under his leadership, and he would not let his own sorrow dampen his disciples’ spirits.
During the festival, Qin Jue took the chance to ask if Li Qingqiu wanted more disciples—the Qin Family could send another group.
Li Qingqiu declined politely.
Once the celebrations ended, Qin Jue departed down the mountain with his servants, and life in the Clear Sky Sect returned to its usual rhythm.
That night, Li Qingqiu took Qin Ye into the forest and transmitted to him the first-layer mental method of the Primordial Unity Scripture.
During this time, he never once mentioned Wu Baoyu.
Since learning of Wu Baoyu’s death, Qin Ye had become quiet and withdrawn, no longer his cheerful self.
Worried that the boy might fall into despair, Li Qingqiu passed on the scripture to guide and console him.
Half a month later—
Li Qingqiu finally broke through to the Fourth Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm.
Possessing the Heavenly Thunder Spiritual Root, his cultivation speed within the sect was now the fastest, as he also spent the most time absorbing energy from the Subterranean Spiritual Lake.
The leap from the Third to the Fourth Layer brought immense improvement—far greater than the gaps between the earlier layers.
This newfound strength eased the anxiety in his heart.
Although Jiang Zhaoxia had yet to reach the Fourth Layer, he had created a sword technique of his own—
The Sword Controlling Technique!
That day, in the forest, Li Qingqiu watched Jiang Zhaoxia standing upon his sword, suspended in the air.
He was so astonished that he stood frozen for a long time.
The Nine Heavens Divine Palm might have been impressive, but it didn’t suit his path, so he hadn’t studied it.
Yet Jiang Zhaoxia’s Sword Controlling Technique—he truly desired to learn it.
Faced with his senior brother’s interest, Jiang Zhaoxia didn’t refuse.
On the contrary, he was delighted, taking it as proof that his creation had been acknowledged—that he had surpassed Yang Jueding’s innovation.
As the winter snow completely melted, the Taikun Mountain Range welcomed the spring, vibrant life spreading across its peaks and valleys.
That day, a gentle breeze swept through the mountains.
On a barren patch of land, Cheng Canghai stood with a hoe in his hands, gazing toward a figure on the summit of a nearby peak—Li Qingqiu, with an eagle circling above his head.
Having joined the Clear Sky Sect for some time, Cheng Canghai found himself increasingly bewildered.
Why did their lightness skill seem like actual flight?
Why did that eagle have inner energy?
Why were the children here so unbelievably strong?
Especially the Sect Master—he was the hardest to understand.
Cheng Canghai had never seen him train his body externally.
Either he vanished for days or sat meditating like an immortal.
“Thief King, stop slacking!”
Yu Lin’s voice came from not far away.
The nickname “Thief King” made the veins bulge on Cheng Canghai’s forehead—those brats just loved teasing him with that title.
For the once-feared Thief King to now dig soil and chop firewood—if word spread, it would be a laughingstock.
“Got it,” he replied irritably.
Instinctively, he glanced again toward the mountain peak—but Li Qingqiu and the eagle were already gone.
He wasn’t surprised.
He merely shook his head and resumed working.
Meanwhile, Li Qingqiu and the young eagle he had been nurturing with his Vital Energy darted swiftly through the forest, chasing one another.
He had once taken the eagle to the Subterranean Spiritual Lake, and ever since, it had grown astonishingly fast—twice as large as its siblings.
Even flying through the dense forest, it maneuvered with agility, weaving through tangled branches at a speed like a streak of lightning.
Li Qingqiu activated the Wind Sprint Technique, yet could only keep pace with it side by side.
After traversing five miles of mountain trail, he stopped and whistled.
The eagle banked sharply, circled around a large tree, and swooped down to perch on his shoulder.
Its body was now almost as large as Li Qingqiu’s upper torso, forcing him to tilt his head just to look at it.
“Little Eight, can you eat a bit less? You’re getting too heavy—I can barely hold you.”
Li Qingqiu smiled as he stroked its head.
The eagle’s name was Little Eight.
He hoped it would grow up as the younger brother to his fellow disciples—and one day protect them.
Little Eight tilted its head back and forth, comically animated.
They continued walking for about half an hour before reaching a mountain stream, where Jiang Zhaoxia and Li Sijin were already present.
Jiang Zhaoxia sat cross-legged on a rock beside the creek, meditating, while Li Sijin sat on the open ground nearby, yellow talisman papers spread before her, with brush and ink at hand—the ink blood-red in color.
At the moment, Li Sijin’s lips were pursed, her face full of frustration.
“What’s wrong? Encountered a problem?” came Li Qingqiu’s voice.
Li Sijin turned to see her senior brother emerging from the forest—not smiling, but glaring.
“Senior Brother, this Earth Talisman Codex is too difficult! I can’t even make the most basic spirit talisman work!”
Li Sijin complained, both hands clutching her hair, ruffling it into a tangled mess.
The Earth Talisman Codex she mentioned was a heritage reward Li Qingqiu had obtained earlier, unlocked through Yang Jueding’s creation of new spells.
Human energy and focus were limited—one couldn’t study too many arts at once.
Each disciple already had their chosen path.
After some thought, Li Qingqiu decided that the youngest, Li Sijin, should study the Earth Talisman Codex.
After all, no one else in the sect understood talismans—she could research it slowly.
Li Qingqiu smiled.
“Think about it—compared to fighting and killing, isn’t studying talismans much easier?”
Li Sijin pouted.
“I’m just venting, not giving up.”
Li Sifeng’s injury back then had deeply affected her.
Over the past year, her temperament had changed greatly—she trained hard and no longer fooled around.
Li Qingqiu crouched beside her, discussing the Earth Talisman Codex.
After a few questions, she began to find her rhythm again.
She soon realized she wasn’t without progress—if anything, her senior brother’s questions seemed awfully silly.
Hearing Li Sijin teasing Li Qingqiu, Jiang Zhaoxia, still facing away, couldn’t help but smile faintly.
Li Qingqiu stayed with them for about half an hour before continuing up the mountain.
That day, Li Dongyue and Li Sifeng were scheduled to cultivate at the Subterranean Spiritual Lake, leaving him a rare moment of leisure without training.
As he reached the mountainside of the Clear Sky Sect, he saw a group of people—it was Feng Dai and his nine constables.
They appeared to be in the middle of a heated argument, not ascending the mountain.
When they noticed Li Qingqiu approaching, Feng Dai suddenly stepped forward and knelt before him, the nine constables half-kneeling as well.
“It was I who caused Senior Xiao’s death! Please, Sect Master, punish me!” Feng Dai said through gritted teeth, grief written all over his face.