Li Yan's Accelerated Nurturing and the Day's Journey
Li Yan quickly re-planted the clusters of Mo Wang bamboo back in their original positions. Yet even at first glance, it was clear that this particular patch shone with a brightness exceeding that of the similar-aged bamboo nearby. Li Yan deduced that this extraordinary luster reflected the much more adequate absorption of nutrients by these plants—a sign that his new method was already working.
In the days that followed, Li Yan expanded his experimental technique throughout dozens of acres of bamboo forest. He applied the "fragment toxin" method all over the land, deliberately accelerating the ripeness of each bamboo stalk by stimulating their growth and coloration. Later that day, he inspected other groves—ones watered and tended by others where bamboo had either already matured or was on the verge of turning its color. Comparing them with his own work, Li Yan's heart filled with satisfaction. His technique had effectively shortened the time required for accelerated ripening from roughly 81 days to about 63 days, saving him some 18 days. This saving was not trivial; with those extra days he could either earn more spiritual stones or devote additional time to refining his cultivation techniques.
At the same time, Li Yan had begun experimenting with more than just speedier growth. While channeling his spiritual energy (ling power) through the "Snow Evening Crystal" and blending in the fragment toxin, he noticed a transformation. Every time his spirit force passed through the toxin-infused material, he perceived even a slight heaviness clinging to the energy. Upon its release, he could sense ethereal wisps of energy moving in the air—like tiny threads sliding silently toward their target. Once the energy broke free of its container, these delicate strands would converge, forming a unified, encompassing aura. For a moment, Li Yan felt as if he were a celestial overseer, looking down upon an empire of lesser beings. Soon he discovered that he no longer needed to actively control his mind during these exchanges; by simply altering the density of his spiritual energy, he could cause the fragment toxin to either cluster tightly or disperse widely, controlling its range and potency in a manner that allowed it to launch an automatic assault.
Gazing out over his acres of Mo Wang bamboo, Li Yan was imbued with the joy of abundant harvest. Convinced of the method's success, he resolved that once he delivered the fifty acres of bamboo he had just finished tending, he would immediately set off to accept his next assignment at the Ling Zhi Garden. For him, these tasks were double-edged—they not only earned him spiritual stones but also lent themselves to another kind of cultivation training. Unlike his previous solitary, rigorous practice (which drove rapid ling power growth but left his celestial techniques less practical), the garden missions allowed for a slower increase in ling power while simultaneously refining the practical application of those skills. With each use, his ling power grew more even, pure, and subtle.
Without delay, Li Yan summoned his spiritual instrument and soared toward the Ling Zhi Garden—a land enveloped by a thin, yellowish mist. Yet, as he neared his destination, he found himself momentarily bewildered. Where he expected the customary shroud of mist to obscure everything beyond, he instead saw that the yellow fog had vanished altogether. Instead, an entire courtyard along with a solitary house stood bare and exposed. A ripple of uncertainty stirred within him: Why would Senior Sister Six, known for her enigmatic ways, choose to reveal herself so openly today?
Li Yan landed gracefully and began walking toward the courtyard. Inside, the arrangement of rocks and trees remained as it always was, yet the heavy wooden door was tightly closed. Not far from the entrance, he noticed a lone figure sitting cross-legged on the ground. The sudden appearance of this person left Li Yan momentarily stunned.
The individual, as if having been awakened by Li Yan's approach, slowly opened his eyes. Meeting Li Yan's gaze, his expression flickered with a hint of surprise before being replaced by a cool indifference. Li Yan recognized the young man immediately—it was Third Senior Brother Yun Chunqu. Smiling slightly, Li Yan greeted him warmly: "Greetings, Third Senior Brother Yun. I wonder if Senior Sister Six is present today?"
Yun Chunqu, who was well aware that Li Yan, though having entered the sect relatively late, was steadily advancing, did not offer much in the way of words. He knew that, while Li Yan's progress was swift, his true prospects for reaching the Great Dao were limited, given his introverted nature. Their conversations were few, and even today, when Li Yan made his inquiry, Yun Chunqu's blank expression was enough to imply that Li Yan should already understand the unspoken truth: Senior Sister Six was not present.
"Should you have a task to deliver, simply hand it over to me," the third senior brother replied coolly, his tone devoid of any pretense. Li Yan hesitated a moment longer, then asked, "Senior Sister Six is not here?" Yun Chunqu's impassive look made it clear that Li Yan's words were unnecessary; the silence said it all. With resigned amusement, Li Yan extracted his mission token and continued on his way into the compound.
Reflections and Rest After the Task
After leaving the Task Hall, Li Yan took a moment to reflect on the day's events. Recognizing that he had gone for days without proper sleep—spent instead in an unending cycle of watering, meditating to restore his strength, and then watering again—he decided that a full day of rest was now essential before his next venture in the Ling Zhi Garden. Though meditation could help recover strength, he knew it would never fully substitute for the rejuvenation of deep, uninterrupted sleep.
Descending the mountain avenues lined with bamboo, Li Yan noticed that the usually busy path was much quieter than usual. The once-frequently trodden bamboo trail now lay almost deserted, and the normally bustling Task Hall seemed to have fewer people milling about. Approaching his private bamboo courtyard near the mountain's base, he hesitated for a beat, then continued on toward the main hall, allowing the mild sense of isolation to remind him of the transient nature of life here in the sect.
In that same moment of departure, Li Wu Yi—the senior master whose soft smile was known to all—bid him farewell with a warm expression. On this small bamboo peak, only three figures remained: the eldest senior brother, Third Senior Brother Yun Chunqu, and Li Yan himself. Li Yan was acutely aware that if he lingered too long, the eldest would soon depart for the Ling Wu Garden, and the three Nascent Qi disciples would then be shifted to replace Second Senior Brother in the Ling Food Garden. Meanwhile, all the other disciples had already set out in teams on various journeys of cultivation in preparation for the upcoming sect selection tournament.
Originally, Third Senior Brother had intended to join Senior Sister Six and others on the mission. However, in the end, Senior Sister Six had coldly stated that since no one was available to take over the duties at the Ling Zhi Garden, she would remain behind. Thus, she had accepted her responsibility, even if it meant forfeiting the dynamic camaraderie of the away teams.
Many tens of thousands of li away from the sect's central stronghold lay a vast, impenetrable forest—a maze of layered canopies and intersecting groves that teemed with mid- to low-level demon beasts. In these wild regions, first- and second-tier monsters roamed freely, their numbers reaching into the tens of thousands, each a wild creature of nature's raw essence.
At that very moment, at a junction where a dense wood merged with the base of the mountain, a ferocious skirmish unfolded. Here, four figures—three young men and a young woman—were locked in deadly combat with three formidable, second-tier earth-armored tigers. The young woman, with her short hair and lean, determined frame, was dressed in a sleek black battle outfit. Clutching a nearly nine-foot-long azure halberd, she faced a single tiger in a duel as the other three youths flanked the remaining two beasts, their battle cries and incantations rippling through the air.
The short-haired woman moved with an elegance that was almost balletic. Every swing of her halberd was fluid and expressive, drawing arcs of delicate blue light as if painting ethereal patterns into the fray. The bright, swirling aura forced the tiger to bellow in fury. It tried to break free from the luminous circle with the force of its natural defenses—defenses as formidable as a mid-level spiritual artifact. Yet, after repeatedly crashing into the blue barrier, deep, bloodied scars began to mar its hide. Wounded and cautious, the tiger abandoned any reckless charges, relying instead on its innate skills to challenge the relentless precision of the young warrior.
Elsewhere in the clearing, the atmosphere crackled with elemental magic. Fireball spells, wind-blade techniques, and ice darts were unleashed in rapid succession, their sounds overlapping in a chaotic symphony. These incantations caused the two remaining tigers to surge forward with renewed ferocity. With wild determination, each beast hurled bright yellow beams from its maw, a barrage aimed at the cluster of intricate and overlapping celestial techniques employed by the trio of young men. Although these beams momentarily gained an advantage over the defensive spells, they also exposed the attackers to counterforce, scattering their formation and pressing them into a defensive corner.
Earth-armored tigers were creatures synonymous with relentless brutality. As mature demons, these creatures could reach the second tier of demonic power. With their bodies stretching between two to three zhang in length—roughly on par with a human Nascent Qi cultivator—they were not only powerful in offense but also tough defenders. Their natural armor allowed them to withstand the full brunt of high-grade spiritual weapons, and each possessed innate abilities: the shattering "Earth-Splitting Wind," the crushing momentum of "Heavy Peak Pounce," and the enigmatic "Golden Armor Ring," which served either as a shield or an offensive weapon depending on the circumstance.
Observing the mounting peril on one side of the battle, the short-haired warrior narrowed her eyes. Recognizing that the situation with one of the tigers was growing distinctly critical, she swiftly freed one hand and patted the small pouch at her waist. In that split second, a burst of red light flashed, heralding the deployment of her next countermeasure. In the space of a heartbeat, a small but brilliantly radiant golden axe sprang forth. Simultaneously, her azure halberd flared with an intense blue radiance. In an almost unnoticeable moment, the golden light and the kaleidoscopic blue merged—a silent duet of offense and defense. The tiger, spurred on by its own might, launched a crushing charge. Its mouth opened wide, and from it burst a colossal yellow beam, far thicker than those seen from its comrades—a beam that could easily have overwhelmed any ordinary barrier. But as the intense beam began its journey toward the cluster of blue, the golden axe—imbued with astonishing speed—collided directly with the energy blast. A resounding explosion of sound and brightness burst forth; it was as if a small sun had ignited, its glaring light momentarily blinding everything nearby. The mighty tiger staggered as its legendary "Earth-Splitting Wind" fell apart, scattered like a broken promise. Yet the momentum of the golden axe continued unyielding, driving itself deep into the vulnerable flank of the beast's neck. A mighty roar, filled with equal parts agony and defiance, tore from the tiger's throat as its stored spiritual force erupted in one last, desperate attempt to fight back. In that split second, the young warrior's innate "Golden Armor Ring" glowed fiercely—a force that, if colliding with a mountain peak, could shatter stone to dust.
The short-haired fighter then allowed herself a cool, dismissive snort. In one graceful movement, she swept aside the advancing tiger. Her halberd continued to radiate its soft blue glow as she deftly sidestepped the beast's charge. In one swift and powerful motion, her leg arced out—like a whip coiling with lethal intent—and struck the tiger's vulnerable neck. The impact echoed across the battlefield as the tiger's massive body slammed against the earth, leaving a deep crater in its wake.
As dust and debris swirled, the wounded tiger struggled feebly. Its limbs twitched in a final, futile effort to right itself, but within a few heartbeats, it collapsed back into the hollow it had created—its life extinguished in a final, pitiful shudder.
The decisive blow had been delivered—by both leg and weapon. The golden axe, as if animated by some mysterious force, had embedded itself thoroughly into the creature's throat. Its initial tentative rotation, somehow triggered by the mingling of blood and energy, soon accelerated into a wild, whirling motion. The small axe's rapid spin churned through the tiger's head as if it were mixing the very blood that lent the beast its life force.
With the tide of battle now turned unmistakably, the other two earth-armored tigers began to show signs of fear. Their once-intimidating postures faltered as they realized that the momentum of the fight was slipping away. In a matter of moments, one of the tigers was unexpectedly caught in a well-timed "Wind Binding" maneuver executed by one of the other cultivators. In an equally swift follow-up, a piercing ice spear found its target—impaling the immobilized beast through the eye. Blood erupted in thick, violent arcs as the spear lodged deep into its skull, signaling the final end of that creature.
Having secured victory on her side, the short-haired young woman withdrew her golden axe and, without further joining the fray, remained on the sidelines. Her expression was calm, her gaze reflective. In the silent aftermath, the lesson was clear: true mastery in cultivation was only achieved after enduring the bloodshed and chaos of battle.
Soon enough, a group of three young men—clothes tattered and bodies bearing the marks of combat—approached from the direction of the conflict. One of them, a lean, tall figure with bright white teeth shining as he smiled, remarked warmly, "Senior Sister Six, we are indeed fortunate. Had you not slain that mighty male tiger, the remaining two would have been emboldened further, and our situation would have been far worse."
Another, dressed in a dark-green robe with intricate embroideries—a fierce beast emblazoned on one cuff—added with a slightly bashful tone, "Yes, yes, Master Gong's skill never fails us. We can only feel somewhat inadequate in comparison." His companion, whose dark-green attire was accented by a golden compass embroidered on his sleeve, nodded in agreement, his eyes revealing the heavy truth of their struggle.
Then, with a calm yet critical tone, the short-haired warrior addressed one of the young men directly. "Da Qiao, in the fray you lost your composure on several occasions. You deployed your celestial techniques haphazardly, squandering valuable spiritual energy and, in doing so, causing us to lose the initiative."
Da Qiao's face reddened with both embarrassment and resolve. "Yes, Senior Sister Six. I've only just stepped out of the Nascent Qi stage, and confronting a demon beast of this magnitude for the first time did unsettle me. I understand now that in moments like these every drop of controlled energy counts." His words were soft, yet they carried a determined promise to improve—recognition that such perilous opportunities were rare and that only the most experienced disciples were ever invited to these dangerous fronts.
"Enough talk," intoned an older cultivator with firm authority. "Let us collect the remains—the inner core, blood, and flesh—of these three earth-armored tigers and leave this place immediately. The residual disturbances in our spiritual energies will surely call forth other demon beasts soon. Although we are far from the central territory of the core region, third-tier beasts might soon wander here. Moreover, it is time for us to employ our specialized poison cultivation techniques. After all, every trial should lead to the mastery of our own strengths." With that, Gong Chen Ying, smoothing back his ebony hair, strode purposefully toward one of the fallen tigers, his long, composed steps attesting to the discipline he had long honed.
Da Qiao and his companions, two cultivators from Lao Jun Peak and Si Xiang Peak respectively, exchanged knowing glances as they followed. They all understood that in the coming days the need to restrain their poison techniques would be over. In the world of the Wang Liang Sect, poison was not a mere tool—it was the very essence that underpinned their art of cultivation.
Epilogue: The Ongoing Journey of Cultivation
Thus ended a day marked by accelerated growth experiments, a cascade of innovative spiritual manipulations, and a fierce, raw battle against formidable demon beasts. Li Yan's groundbreaking method had not only shortened the ripening period of the Mo Wang bamboo by nearly eighteen days but had also broadened his understanding of how to merge spiritual energy with elemental toxin manipulations. His encounter with Third Senior Brother Yun Chunqu subtly reaffirmed the realities of sect life—where destiny was shaped by both silent judgments and the unspoken lessons of discipline. The deliberate absence of Senior Sister Six, who chose to stay back at the Ling Zhi Garden to attend to her duties, once again underscored the crucial balance between personal ambition and communal responsibility.
After completing his task and finally finding a moment's respite on the quiet mountain pathways, Li Yan's journey reminded him that cultivation was as much about inner growth as it was about facing external perils. The silence on the bamboo path, unusual for a normally bustling day, resonated with the promise of change and preparation for the forthcoming sect selection tournaments—a time when every drop of blood and every swirl of spiritual energy would determine future destinies.
And far away, amid wild, untamed forests where tens of thousands of demon beasts roamed freely, a different sort of battle had unfolded—a vivid interplay of youthful determination, swift martial skills, and the unyielding forces of nature. In that brutal yet exquisitely choreographed encounter, every swing of a halberd, every spinning golden axe, and every disciplined step taken on the battlefield mediated a lesson in survival and mastery. For these young cultivators, the line between life and death, between failure and triumph, was drawn not in words but in the explosive, brilliant moments of combat.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the echoes of clashing energies faded into the deepening twilight, each warrior—whether Li Yan, the silent guardian of the Ling Zhi Garden, or the intrepid team battling in the wilderness—carried with them the indelible lessons of that day. They had learned that in the realm of cultivation, every moment was both an opportunity and a test: an opportunity to harness the essence of life and a test of one's resolve to meet destiny with unwavering courage.
Their journey was far from over. With every step along the mountain trails and every new challenge faced in unknown wilds, they moved ever closer to the profound understanding of their art—a synthesis of inner strength, elemental might, and the quiet beauty of nature's forces.