Return of the Demonic Thoughts

Chang'an felt that this martial art was too easy to learn, unbelievably so. The Movement Cultivation Method, without inner energy or true qi, instead unleashed pure strength that flowed through his body. The words "Demonic Art" couldn't help but surface in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

Yu Fu stayed by Chang'an's side, never leaving him.

Grandma served chicken soup, chuckling, "Chang'an, come have some soup. You just recovered, you need to take good care of yourself. Come here, Grandma has some words of advice for you!"

Chang'an and Han Yu sat down at the table. The chicken soup was fragrant, infused with several nourishing medicinal herbs, carrying a slight bitterness. Chang'an didn't hold back, his taste buds tingling, and he wolfed down eight bowls before feeling refreshed and no longer hungry. He had stood still for three consecutive days, engrossed in his practice and oblivious to everything else. The moment he woke up, he felt an emptiness in his stomach, ravenously hungry.

Grandma smiled knowingly, her eyes kind and benevolent, "When you were still in swaddling clothes, Grandma fed you milk, and you were just like this, very greedy!"

Chang'an squinted and smiled, Yu Fu looked on with curiosity, appearing quite approving.

Then, Grandma's expression turned serious, "Chang'an, the martial art the Old Man passed down to you, you must cultivate it with caution. This particular cultivation method is rumored to have descended from the heavens, and it's incredibly bizarre. One thought can elevate you to sainthood, another can plunge you into demonic ways. Even your father never dared to attempt cultivating it. Ascension to heaven or descent into hell all depends on your own state of mind. Only by holding a ruler within your heart, unwavering and steady, can you comprehend the Lotus Wonderful Method. The Old Man, for so many years, has been trapped in darkness, confined to a small room, because he took a wrong turn while cultivating this art, falling into the demonic path, which is why now, upon seeing daylight, he goes mad... The abbot of Tianchan Temple recites scriptures daily, but cannot dispel the Old Man's demonic thoughts; its harm is profound..."

Chang'an was startled by her words, then gave a faint smile, "I've experienced great ups and downs, several twists and turns, and I roughly understand what the realm of constancy and tranquility is like. I can grasp that ruler. Besides, I have Yu Fu by my side. Fu'er can remind me at any moment, so Grandma, please don't worry about me! Isn't this also a path for me?"

Grandma's expression suddenly turned cold, and she shot to her feet, holding a knife in her hand, the one used for slicing beef.

Chang'an and Yu Fu were both startled, sensing a chilling killing intent.

Grandma's expression was stern and filled with regret, "I've caused trouble!" Her voice was already distorted.

It was high noon, the sun blazing fiercely in the sky. The Old Man's perpetually dark room suddenly split open in the middle. The Old Man was still sitting quietly on the high-backed chair. Suddenly exposed to the bright sunlight, he abruptly opened his eyes, which were a shocking blood-red, utterly horrifying.

It was as if a layer of flames was burning on the Old Man's body, crimson flames flickering all over him. They danced, cluster after cluster, everywhere. As soon as his eyes opened, he tightly shut them again, motionless. His face had already become contorted, turning incredibly ferocious.

Chang'an felt as if the figure sitting there was a monstrous beast, a demon.

Suddenly, a person with a purplish-red face appeared about ten feet in front of the Old Man, holding a short black knife as dark as ink.

This person's face was covered in patches of red scars and indentations; his skin had been peeled off, yet he was still alive, becoming a terrifying purplish-red face.

No one could discern any expression on the red-faced man's face. His teeth were always exposed, lacking lips, nose, ears, and eyebrows. Fortunately, his eyelids were still there.

His eyelids twitched, and his cold eyes held a knife-like glint. They were the eyes of a venomous snake, filled with malice and cruelty.

The red-faced man's voice was very cold, each word distorted, spoken deliberately, "You can't escape, Su--Wan--Tu."

The Old Man's name was Su Wantu.

Chang'an and Yu Fu both broke out in a cold sweat.

Su Wantu was a notorious and fearsome devil in the martial world, his reputation shaking the land. He had killed countless people, far more than just ten thousand. Ten Thousand Slayer was his moniker, not his real name, and it was known everywhere.

Chang'an inadvertently glanced at Grandma and couldn't help but recall another ferocious name: Thousand Blade Scraper.

Chang'an's heart churned, a mess of chaos. The reputation he had forged for himself, in the face of these two names, was like a speck of dust against a mountain; there was no comparison. Ten Thousand Slayer, Thousand Blade Scraper, even the three great dynasties—Great Gan, Great Zhou, and Peacock—could not control them. They were top-tier devils of the martial world, outlaws, legends among legends, myths.

Thousand Blade Scraper hissed, "Ink Splatter Blade, why do you still pursue us so relentlessly... We have already retired and left the martial world..."

The red-faced Ink Splatter Blade sneered, "Left the martial world? Where there are people, there is a martial world. Where can you retreat to? Unless you go to your death. Why? For revenge! Those who cultivate Demonic Arts deserve to die. I suffered a crushing defeat in a battle back then, my face was peeled off alive, and I watched him wreak havoc, slaughtering cities and killing people. None of my kin survived. I swore an oath long ago: Su Wantu will not die, I will never give up. He has been confined to this house for eighteen years; I have waited eighteen years. Today, here, I will fight him again, to exact my revenge. Su Wantu's Demonic Art will not be allowed to spread."

Suddenly, Ink Splatter Blade looked at Chang'an and swung his blade as if splashing ink. Where the short blade passed, a black shadow lingered in the void, like ink stains.

The blade moved as if guided by a god.

Thousand Blade Scraper sighed, "You have no chance. This Heart Sutra is not a Demonic Art."

Su Wantu suddenly stood up, his eyes opening. A demon had awakened. He leaped fiercely, a bloody shadow flashing as he descended from the sky, landing in front of Ink Splatter Blade.

Ink Splatter Blade's blade light flashed. Su Wantu shifted a step, evading with profound skill, and threw a punch.

Bang!

Ink Splatter Blade seemed to slam into the punch, flying backward instantly, his chest caved in and cracked open.

He stared intently at Su Wantu's eyes, which were incredibly deep, with not a trace of bloodlust left, clear black and white, shining brightly.

He spat out a mouthful of blood. He tried to speak, but swallowed blood instead, his eyes rolling back. He died with his eyes wide open.

Su Wantu suddenly turned around. Chang'an felt a blur before his eyes as Su Wantu lifted him into his arms. A chaotic, hoarse voice echoed in his ear: "Movement Heart Sutra!"

Chang'an felt a force penetrate his body. He couldn't help but follow the cultivation method and circulate it. Su Wantu had already brought him to the corpse of Ink Splatter Blade. Chang'an instinctively looked and saw streams of air flowing from Ink Splatter Blade's corpse, like a deflating ball. The airflow returned to the heavens and earth. In a daze, Chang'an instinctively reached out his hand and felt an inexplicable suction force on his palm, drawing the dissipating airflow towards himself. The moment the airflow entered his body, Chang'an felt a surge of heat sweep through him. His entire body felt as if it were burning, his own strength increasing ferociously with the burning. He could even feel it himself.

This is too evil.

Seeing this, Su Wantu released Chang'an, darted back into the ruins of the house, lifted a large stone slab, revealing a tunnel entrance, and immediately crawled in. He quickly pulled the slab back into place, sealing himself in darkness.

Chang'an suddenly came back to his senses, staring blankly at his hands. Faint grey lotus patterns appeared on his palms.

That feeling of increased strength was intoxicating; no martial artist could resist it.

Chang'an couldn't either, feeling as if he were dreaming.

Yu Fu looked at Chang'an, her eyes strange.

Grandma slowly appeared behind Chang'an and sighed softly, "Child, don't get lost in it. I once heard the Old Man say that the first level of this Heart Sutra is extremely easy to learn, but it's a test, like a Demonic Art, capable of absorbing others' cultivation. But do not become addicted to this path, lest you stray. The Old Man fell into the demonic path because of this back then, reaching a lower level, and could never advance further. However, you can absorb the cultivation of the dead, but you must never kill to cultivate. This is Grandma's lifelong understanding, her experience, you must remember it well. Alright, the storm has passed. Help Grandma bury the Ink Splatter Blade under the soapberry tree. Then, help the Old Man finish repairing the house. Grandma won't keep you any longer; you both go about your business."

"Grandma..."

Chang'an wanted to speak but stopped.

Thousand Blade Scraper, being so astute and perceptive, had already sensed the rift and wariness between the two young people. He felt that keeping the two children here would be awkward and inappropriate. Grandma smiled, "Grandma understands. It's our bad reputation; everyone is wary! This cultivation method is yours by right. Your father's will, the Old Man dares not disobey. Ning Shengdao's life was worthy of respect. In the future, you must make the name Ning Chang'an shine..."

Chang'an nodded seriously, unable to voice the words he wanted to say.

Three days later, Chang'an and Yu Fu departed.

Grandma saw them off for a long distance, then reluctantly returned to the Old Man's house. Su Wantu had returned to the repaired dark room, sitting as before. He opened his mouth and said, "The child is good, a fine seedling. He entered the Heart Sutra within three days, his palms showing grey lotus patterns, a full sixty times faster than I was back then..."

Thousand Blade Scraper said, "A tiger father has no dog son. This child is exceptionally talented and destined for this Heart Sutra! The Ink Splatter Blade master is also dead. All our great enemies should be wiped out now. No one is watching us constantly anymore. This time, the two children unknowingly helped us immensely by drawing out that venomous snake, the Ink Splatter Blade master. Your demonic thoughts have also been mostly eliminated. We should enjoy our twilight years and pursue higher realms of martial arts!"

Su Wantu said, "The rest depends on this child's fortune. We've done all we can; we owe Ning Shengdao nothing. Why don't we also go to Dragon Green Mountain? Old Man Yang always said it's a good place to spend our final years..."

The old couple stayed behind to help Chang'an rebuild the destroyed house. They meticulously inspected the area for three days, their intentions clear.

That evening, as dusk fell, a carriage slowly exited the gates of Danyang City. It headed straight for Dragon Green Mountain outside Qingshan Prefecture, in Taichang Prefecture, Changshan Province. An old woman was driving the carriage, and the curtains were drawn so low they completely blocked out any light.

Chang'an went to the Moon Concealing Pavilion and discovered Su Yueru was no longer there. Things had changed.

Then, the two of them returned to the Rugui Inn to retrieve the Green Ox.