When Shen Hui returned to the Temple, dusk was drawing near.
He parted ways with Jingming in front of the Dining Hall and headed straight for his little room.
He pushed open the door, lit the lamp, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Only then did he have time to look at the interface.
[Dao Xing]: 327
He remembered clearly that before going down the mountain that morning, the number had been thirty-three. After killing the Wolf Demon, it had shot up by two hundred and ninety-four.
Two hundred and ninety-four.
It was almost as much as he could gain from a month of hard cultivation.
Shen Hui stared at the number for a long while, then slowly leaned back against the headboard.
The suspended flame above him flickered, making the light and shadows in the room waver.
So that was how it worked.
He closed his eyes and ran through the day's events in his mind.
Before, he had known of only two ways to accumulate Dao Xing: one was to meditate and cultivate painstakingly. It was slow, but had the advantage of being steady; the other was to consume spiritual treasures, such as the spirit fruit he had eaten before.
The latter, however, was a matter of luck, and ordinary things were of little use.
Now there was another path.
Slaying demons and vanquishing evil.
This path was the fastest. Killing a Wolf Demon had earned him nearly three hundred points of cultivation, the equivalent of a month of hard work.
What if he killed a more powerful demon? What if he killed a whole pack?
He opened his eyes and gazed at the pitch-black ceiling beams. A glimmer flashed in his eyes, then faded.
There probably weren't many demons nearby.
The Wolf Demon on Cat Ridge had grown into quite a menace, but there had only been the one.
If he wanted another job like that, he'd probably have to go farther afield.
As he sat lost in thought, he suddenly remembered Second Senior Sister's Aura Observation Art.
If he had that ability, he could track demons by following their demonic aura. Wouldn't that make it much easier to hunt them after going down the mountain?
He sat up and looked at the number, three hundred and twenty-seven, then at the ten thousand points needed for Fire Art Mastery and Foundation Establishment. He pondered for a moment, but in the end, didn't rush to spend them.
"I need to learn a way to find demons first."
Having made up his mind, he glanced once more at the number on the interface, then resumed his meditation.
He had reached today's limit, but the night was long. Wouldn't it be a waste to spend it sleeping?
He sat in meditation all night and, sure enough, squeezed out another sliver.
After the next morning's lesson, Shen Hui went to his master's quiet room.
The Old Taoist was meditating by the window. After hearing why he had come, he didn't ask many questions, merely pointing to an old wooden chest in the corner. "There's a Silk Scroll inside. Find it yourself."
Shen Hui rummaged around for a while and found a yellowed scroll, its surface covered in dust.
He blew the dust off and was just about to take his leave when the Old Taoist suddenly opened his eyes.
"That Wolf Demon—you killed it?"
Shen Hui stopped. "I did."
The Old Taoist nodded and asked nothing more, closing his eyes again.
With the Silk Scroll tucked under his arm, Shen Hui returned to his room.
He spread the scroll on the bed and leaned close to examine it.
The scroll was covered in tiny regular-script characters. At the top were several large characters: **Aura Observation Art.
**They hadn't been censored. Someone had blacked them out with thick ink, leaving only the last three characters, "Aura Observation Art," barely legible.
Shen Hui studied them for a moment. He didn't bother wondering what the original title had been. As long as the contents were there, that was all that mattered.
He read on.
Only after reading carefully did he learn that this art had three uses.
The first was observing a person's qi.
That meant observing the aura around living beings.
The healthy had bright, full auras that flowed smoothly; the frail had dim, stagnant auras mottled with different colors; cultivators had powerful, concentrated auras far surpassing those of ordinary people; and the bloodthirsty had auras red tinged with black, surging with Killing Intent.
Though it was called observing a person's qi, it wasn't limited to people. It could be used to observe any living thing, demons included.
The second was observing the qi of the land.
That meant observing the flow of qi through mountains and rivers.
In places with good feng shui, qi gathered clear and flowed gently; in ominous places, it dispersed and turned turbid, stagnant and chaotic.
Geomancy, searching for dragon veins, avoiding ill fortune and seeking good luck—all relied on this art.
The third was observing the qi of objects.
That meant seeing whether an object contained special energy, such as a magical artifact or antique, or whether it had been tainted by evil or Baleful Intent.
Shen Hui read it through twice, carefully rolled up the Silk Scroll, and placed it beside his pillow. Then he sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and regulated his breathing.
The scroll made it clear: to practice this art, he first had to enter a state of stillness, with his mind clear. Then, using a particular breathing technique, he had to gather his mind at the Celestial Eye Acupoint between his eyes.
Only through long, persistent practice could he see what ordinary people could not.
He tried to follow the instructions.
At first, all he could see was pitch-blackness.
He didn't rush. He adjusted his breathing and continued to focus.
Another quarter of an hour passed. Suddenly, he felt a faint twitch between his brows, as if something were knocking there.
A moment later, the knocking grew clearer, turning into a tingling itch that spread outward from the Celestial Eye Acupoint.
He opened his eyes.
The room had completely changed.
A faint, faint glow edged everything.
There was light around the bed, light around the corner of the table, and light around the suspended flame above him. The halos wavered gently, like ripples on the surface of water.
He looked down at himself.
The light around him was the brightest, white with a faint tinge of red. The red was so pale that it was almost impossible to notice unless he looked closely.
He remembered what the Silk Scroll had said: cultivators had strong, concentrated qi, while the qi of the bloodthirsty was red tinged with black.
He had just killed the Wolf Demon and acquired some Blood Sha Qi. That was probably where the faint red came from.
At the same time, he couldn't help feeling a surge of delight. He'd actually mastered it just like that?
He stood up, pushed open the window, and looked out into the courtyard.
The old locust tree stood there, its branches burdened with snow.
He focused his gaze and, sure enough, saw a halo around it too. It was much fainter than those around living things, almost imperceptible, like a candle about to go out.
He looked farther into the distance, wanting to see if he could make out anything else.
But the moment he did, things went wrong.
His head buzzed, as if someone had stirred it violently with a stick.
Everything before him began to sway. The world spun around him, and he hurriedly grabbed the windowsill, shut his eyes, and gasped for breath.
Cold sweat streamed down his forehead. His back was soaked through, and both legs trembled uncontrollably, as limp as overcooked noodles.
Damn, this felt exactly like motion sickness...
Holding on to the windowsill, he slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He kept his eyes shut and rested for a long while before the dizzying sensation gradually faded.
He opened his eyes and stared at the pitch-black ceiling beams. Shen Hui couldn't help giving a bitter laugh.
The book hadn't said this thing would take so much out of him.
After resting for a good while, he finally had enough strength to stand. Holding on to the wall, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it.
Forget it. He'd just sleep today.
After the next morning's lesson, Shen Hui tucked the Silk Scroll under his arm and went to his master's quiet room.
The Old Taoist was sitting by the window, drinking tea. When he saw Shen Hui come in, his gaze rested on the Silk Scroll. He asked gently, "What is it? Have you run into some difficulty?"
Shen Hui paused. "Difficulty?"
The Old Taoist waved a hand. "The Aura Observation Art looks easy, but practicing it takes a certain talent. Which of your senior brothers and sisters hasn't tried it? Qingyi spent seven or eight nights poring over this scroll, and still couldn't get a foot in the door. You've only had it for one night. It's perfectly normal if you haven't succeeded. Don't take it to heart."
As he spoke, he lifted his teacup and blew the floating leaves aside, his tone calm. "This sort of thing depends on fate. You can't force it."
"Master."
Shen Hui interrupted him and set the Silk Scroll on the table, his expression calm. "This disciple has already mastered the Aura Observation Art."
The Old Taoist nodded. "I know. Go back for now. After a while, I'll find you another art to practice. Though it won't be as good as... Hmm?"
The hand holding his teacup froze in midair. He stopped halfway through his sentence, looking rather comical.
"What did you say?"
Shen Hui looked at the Old Taoist's incredulous face and could only repeat, "This disciple said that he has mastered the Aura Observation Art."
The Old Taoist stared blankly at him, speechless for a long while.
Outside the window, snow rustled down from the eaves. Wind slipped through the crack beneath the door, making the steam above the cup in front of him bend to one side.
"You..."
The Old Taoist set down his teacup and straightened up. "You mean, you only took it back yesterday, and you mastered it first thing this morning?"
"Yes."
"One night?"
"One night."
The Old Taoist opened his mouth, then shut it again. His gaze swept over Shen Hui's face, as if he were seeing him for the first time.
After a long while, he suddenly asked, "Have you tried it?"
"I have," Shen Hui replied. "But if I looked for too long, I got dizzy. I had to hold on to the windowsill and rest for a good while before I recovered."
The Old Taoist fell silent for a moment, then suddenly stood up and walked to the window, turning his back to him.
Shen Hui couldn't see his master's expression. He only heard him mutter something under his breath, sounding like "Incredible," or perhaps a curse along the lines of "Holy shit."
After a good while, the Old Taoist finally turned around, sat back down, and picked up the now-cold tea. He took a sip.
"All right, I understand."
He waved his hand and shooed Shen Hui out. "Go on. I still have to cultivate."