Demon Cultivation and Schemes

Returning to the ice cave where he usually ate, Xiang Yang set down the food box, took out the dishes within, and gave them a light sniff. Their fragrance filled his nostrils.

The two meat dishes were salt-baked chicken legs and honey-glazed roasted ribs. The two vegetable dishes were tender green bamboo shoots and curled blue-thread greens. There was also a large bowl of white rice and a fist-sized flask of wine.

For seven days, Xiang Yang had neglected food and sleep, only taking a few hasty bites to get by. At the sight of this rustic fare, his appetite was stirred. He set aside every thought and focused on savoring the meal.

Once he had eaten, Xiang Yang felt the weariness in his body vanish completely. He packed the plates and bowls back into the food box, returned to the ice cave where he practiced, and sat cross-legged. His right index finger pressed against his brow as layer upon layer of black halos rippled outward. Gradually, he experienced sorrow and desire...

Fang Jing had been born into poverty, the son of a coachman in a wealthy household. From childhood, he had endured humiliation and hardship, and his life would originally have passed in such muddled obscurity.

Unexpectedly, one day, his master's prized thousand-mile steed dropped dead. According to the household rules, Fang Jing was to be punished for negligent care by having one leg broken.

A perfectly healthy man was about to have his leg broken and become crippled for the rest of his life. Only then did Fang Jing develop other thoughts. That very night, he mounted a fine horse and fled the estate, traveling west all the way. There, he encountered an extraordinary man, became his disciple, and learned martial arts. He gained formidable skills and was