Half asleep yet half awake, in the morning hours, clear mountain mist drifted past beyond the railing, draping every scene in a hazy veil. The colors of all things blurred and blended, creating a unique charm.
Especially the patches of tender green in the distance, the finest adornment of life and vitality.
Yu Ci sat alone by the railing, feeling somewhat bewildered. Where was this again?
Though Qu Wujie had emphasized it long ago, the injuries Yu Ci had suffered in the Sword Garden had still exceeded all imagination. It had been more than three months, it seemed. He had drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness, muddle-headed through more than a hundred days. He retained the memories from his lucid moments, but there had been far more times when he was dazed. From what he had heard while awake, it seemed that blood-slaughter qi had slipped in through the cracks and tangled through his limbs and bones, impossible to fully clear away. There was also damage to his soul. In any case, it was extremely troublesome.
Yu Ci took it in stride. Besides, he knew of another reason: within the Inner Void, the Grand Profound Seal had been drawing a certain amount of vital essence every day to complete its final adjustments and establish an unshakable absolute advantage. That process had just been completed. The dark sea around the isolated island was even more bitingly cold. Range upon range of icebergs stood at the farthest limit of his perception, forever proclaiming their existence, yet forever beyond reach.
In Qu Wujie's words, Yu Ci's yin spirit rank was still insufficient, and he had not absorbed enough pure yang qi. As his cultivation advanced, he could gradually make contact with it, perceive its mysteries, use it as a whetstone, and seek further progress.