Body Martial Soul Grafting Technique

"Grafting Technique?" Long Zhanye murmured, repeating the term. It sounded full of implications of defying the laws of nature.

"That's right!" Zhua Yun's tone became excited.

"According to Master's theory, through special methods and mediums, the organs of a Spirit Master's Body Martial Soul..."

"Must be organs that have been specially treated after being removed from the body, retaining some Martial Soul activity, and then 'grafted' onto another Spirit Master whose physique is compatible but whose own Martial Soul is damaged or congenitally deficient!"

"If the operation succeeds, and the recipient survives the most dangerous rejection and fusion period, then not only can their physical injuries be repaired..."

"They may even... gain some or all of the abilities of the grafted Body Martial Soul!"

"In other words—they may gain a second Body Martial Soul because of it!"

"How... how is that possible?!" Long Zhanye cried out, feeling his entire understanding of the world overturned.

Forcibly transplanting a Martial Soul? And allowing the recipient to gain a new Martial Soul?

This was practically divine craftsmanship—no, it was utterly unimaginable!

Such a bold, heaven-defying theory was no wonder two generations of sect masters had firmly rejected it as heresy.

If this spread and fell into the hands of those with evil intentions, it would likely become an unimaginable disaster sweeping across all Spirit Masters with Body Martial Souls!

They would go from proud cultivators to prey, hunted down and stripped of their "parts"!

"Of course, the more important part is this!" Zhua Yun did not give Long Zhanye much time to process his shock.

He stepped forward, his gaze burning as he stared at Long Zhanye. "According to Master's theory of the Grafting Technique, combined with your current condition..."

"Your 'heart' has shattered, causing the life force in your heart meridians to nearly be cut off. The only possible way to save you now is Heart Grafting!"

"To replace your heart with a healthy, powerful one—preferably one that originally possessed a heart-type Body Martial Soul!"

"As long as the graft succeeds, your damaged foundation can be mended and repaired, and the life force in your heart meridians can continue."

"Then, there is a high chance you will be able to return to a normal life, perhaps even... regain the possibility of cultivation!"

Long Zhanye's breathing suddenly quickened. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, as if it wanted to break free from its shattered restraints.

A new, healthy heart? A second chance at life, perhaps even a blessing in disguise?

For a dying youth, the temptation was simply too great—so great that he nearly nodded and agreed at once.

But Zhua Yun's next words were like a basin of cold water, instantly cooling his fevered mind.

"However," Zhua Yun said, his expression turning incomparably grave again.

"I must tell you honestly. Although my master proposed a complete theoretical framework for this Body Martial Soul Grafting Technique, and spent countless years preparing for it..."

"He has never conducted a complete procedure on an actual living person!"

"All the steps, risks, and success rates remain at the level of theoretical deductions and limited in vitro experiments."

Seeing Long Zhanye's face suddenly turn pale, he continued, "And now, my master is advanced in years. His mind is lucid at times and muddled at others; he is no longer in his peak condition."

"Although he has passed most of the other theories of the Nine Body Secrets on to me, when it comes to the most crucial and dangerous Seventh Secret: Grafting Technique..."

"He never fully told me exactly how to perform it."

Zhua Yun's tone became earnest, carrying even a trace of pleading. "So, Long Zhanye, by coming to you, I am not only helping you seek a sliver of survival."

"I am also helping my master fulfill the greatest wish of his life and prove that his theory is feasible!"

"If you agree, we will embark on this unprecedented path together. If you succeed, you will be reborn and begin a new life!"

"And my master's theory will receive its strongest proof. He will no longer have to hide underground year-round, burdened by the stigma of being a 'madman.'"

"His contributions deserve to be recognized by the sect again! This is an adventure that risks everything, but it is worth trying, isn't it?"

A choice between life and death, hope, fear, temptation, doubt... all kinds of emotions tangled together wildly.

Long Zhanye could almost see a future where he regained his health and perhaps even possessed twin Body Martial Souls.

Yet he could also clearly sense the deadly thorns covering that path, enough to doom him beyond redemption.

His lips moved, but his throat was dry.

In the end, he did not immediately make a heated promise. Instead, he shook his head.

"Senior Brother Zhua Yun... thank you for telling me all this. This... this is too important."

"I need time... I need to think it over carefully."

The fact that he did not refuse immediately gave Zhua Yun a glimmer of hope.

Zhua Yun nodded in understanding. "Of course. This concerns your life and future, so you should consider it carefully. I'll wait for you."

He paused, then added, "But please keep this secret."

"Before Master's theory is proven, the fewer people who know about this... the better."

Long Zhanye nodded, then turned and left this secluded corner almost as if fleeing, his heart surging with emotion yet chilled to the bone.

His steps were unsteady, and the words "Body Martial Soul Grafting Technique," "replace the heart," "second Body Martial Soul," and "never tested on humans" echoed endlessly through his mind...

From that day onward.

Long Zhanye's thoughts ran out of control, day and night, without rest.

The two human figures split from the depths of his consciousness began taking turns occupying his mind, arguing and tearing at each other without cease.

One of them always whispered seductively in his ear:

"Long Zhanye, what are you still hesitating for? Wake up!"

"Look at yourself now. Walk for longer than the time it takes an incense stick to burn, and you are gasping for breath. Circulate your Soul Power a little too quickly, and your chest feels as if it is being cut by knives..."

"You know better than anyone that Elder Xu's talk of 'finding a way' is nothing more than medicine to comfort your heart."

"The path ahead is clearly limited to two choices: either cling to this ruined body, count your few remaining days, and silently turn to dust."

"Your vengeance, your hatred, and the vows you once made will all become empty illusions!"

"Accept it! Gamble on that sliver of survival! As long as you succeed, you can reclaim everything you lost and perhaps gain even more!"

Yet another figure emerged as well.

"Calm down, Long Zhanye. You need absolute calm."

"What is the heart? It is not an arm or a leg. It is the sacred altar where Soul Power and vital blood converge!"

"For an ordinary Spirit Master, damage to the heart meridians is already a grave injury. What about you, whose shattered Martial Soul is the heart itself? That is practically a cursed wound."

"No matter how shocking Mad Old Man's theory is, he has never put it into practice on a living person!"

"That so-called Grafting Technique sounds more like a fantasy. You may be suffering now, but at least you still have three years."

"Three years can accomplish many things. But once you accept the Grafting Technique, if it fails, you will not even have those three years."

For more than half a month, Long Zhanye was like a walking corpse.

Food had no taste to him, and he could not sleep peacefully. His already thin body grew even more gaunt.

During the day, he often stared blankly at the sky alone, his eyes hollow.

At night, he tossed and turned in bed as the two consciousnesses argued fiercely in his mind, tormenting his already fragile spirit until it neared collapse.

He recalled his former glory—becoming a Soul Ancestor at twelve, admired by countless people and regarded as a future pillar of the sect.

Even more clearly, he remembered the tragedy of the day his family was destroyed, the savage and powerful face of his enemy, and the pain and despair he had felt when his Martial Soul was crippled.

"My great vengeance remains unavenged..."

"With this body that can barely even walk and may stop breathing at any time?"

"Forget revenge—I probably cannot even reach the place where my enemy is!"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Three years... Heh. Living like a cripple is even harder to bear than dying immediately!"

"Even if there is only the slightest possibility, even if that possibility comes from hell and demands everything from me, I will still gamble on it!"

One day, Long Zhanye no longer hesitated.

He walked straight toward the area where the outer disciples gathered.

When he saw Zhua Yun in the corridor outside the deacons' office, the other man seemed to sense something and happened to look up.

Their eyes met, and Zhua Yun instantly read the answer in Long Zhanye's calm gaze.

Long Zhanye walked up to Zhua Yun and stopped. Without exchanging pleasantries, he said, "Senior Brother, I want to try."

A brief look of surprise crossed Zhua Yun's face. Then he looked around and quickly composed himself.

He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Good! Junior Brother Long, since you have such resolve, I will accompany you down this path!"

"Tonight, at the third quarter of the hour of the Rat, at the usual place. Don't be late."