The Youth, the Daoist, and the Dog

On the field ridge, the early winter wind whistled, damp and bone-piercing.

Yang Huai had achieved success in cultivating the Lesser Circulatory Cycle Method, so this trifling chill did not frighten him.

Instead, he found it rather interesting. Amid the bleak cold wind, he gazed at the neat furrows touched with green, and an indescribable joy rose within him.

Without realizing it, he could already see the distant, faintly blurred Yang Family Hunting Grounds.

Just then, his heart stirred. He suddenly turned his eyes behind him, only to see a streak of cold light drifting over without his notice. He shifted slightly aside, and a furtive paper man wielding a blade swept past his kidney. The chill cut to the bone. Yang Huai looked down and saw that the clothes at his waist had already been sliced open.

"You dare ruin my new clothes?"

Yang Huai flew into a rage. He had not owned many new outfits in all his life. This one had been chosen for his wedding, yet now it had been damaged.

From deep within the cold wind came sheets of paper, fluttering like fallen autumn leaves, each carrying a paper blade. There were countless of them.

"Get lost!"

With an angry roar, Yang Huai's blood and vitality burst forth, a rich crimson radiance erupting around him. The flying paper men were like saplings caught in a tempest, torn out by their roots one after another and reduced to ash amid the storm of blood and fire.

Faint, obscure wails could still be heard from within the flying ash. Wisps of ghostly shadows vanished beneath the shockwave of his pure yang blood and vitality.

Then a voice sighed from the distant wind.

"With blood and vitality like that, no wonder you could kill Old Fifth?!"

"Who's Old Fifth?"

Yang Huai frowned at the wretched old Daoist who had leaped out from the withered grass beside him.

He did not know this Daoist.

But the old Daoist was vicious enough to ambush him. Fortunately, Yang Huai's innate spiritual senses were sharp, or his kidney really would have been stabbed!

Glancing again at the gaping hole in his clothes, cold stars glimmered in the depths of his eyes.

Wild Dog Daoist looked Yang Huai up and down. The more he looked, the more satisfied he became, though his words sounded as if he were kindly clearing up the youth's confusion.

"The peddler you killed!"

Yang Huai's brows creased slightly. It seemed that peddler truly had been some bandit's spy.

Wild Dog Daoist cast Yang Huai a sidelong glance, then said,

"Actually, this poor Daoist ought to say you killed him well...!!"

With a faint smile, he abruptly lost interest in talking and said,

"Forget it. His death is a good thing in any case. To thank you, this poor Daoist has decided that I'll take you back shortly and scrape your flesh off inch by inch to feed my Dog King. That will count as repaying your kindness!"

He spoke in the most casual tone, yet murderous intent blazed in the depths of his eyes. From the waist-high autumn grass nearby came low whimpering sounds. Yang Huai glanced into the grass, then sneered.

"You mangy-haired old Daoist sure talks big, but today, it'll probably be your old bones going into the ground!"

A cold star flickered in Yang Huai's eyes. Instinctively, he was about to circulate the mana within him and condense a Geng Metal spear to pierce the old Daoist through the heart, but then he remembered that his mana had not come with him. In this body, he had only barely reached major accomplishment in the Circulatory Cycle Method.

As his thoughts shifted, Wild Dog Daoist saw through the situation as well. With a wave of his hand, he drew a venomous vine whip covered in black hairs from his pouch. It transformed into a long serpent and lashed toward Yang Huai like lightning.

It was already too late to turn and flee. Yang Huai's expression did not change, but a dense layer of golden light rapidly took shape around him, forming a round golden shield before him.

Little Vajra Incantation!

The Little Vajra Incantation was formed by storing an image within the soul and meditating upon it. It used soul power as well, which meant it could still be used.

His other soul techniques could likewise be used.

When the venomous vine whip struck the golden barrier, it gave off a series of sounds like huge rocks colliding. Traces of black smoke rose from it, but all were blocked by the golden light. Only the golden shield sizzled incessantly.

It clearly possessed tremendous corrosive toxicity.

"This is..."

At the sight of the rising golden light, Wild Dog Daoist froze, then his pupils contracted sharply.

This man was not the brute he had imagined. He actually knew Daoist arts as well?

Just as he was about to unleash another strange technique, all the hairs on his body suddenly stood on end. His soul sensed an extreme danger, and he was about to cast a spell and flee.

"Die!"

In the distance, Yang Huai's eyes snapped open. Two beams of white light shot into the air, locking onto Wild Dog Daoist's eyes. With only the slightest turn, the old Daoist's eyes bulged wide, horror filling them. The next moment, his body, which had been about to leap backward, crashed to the ground. His soul had already been nailed fast by the Soul-Calming Spirit-Cleaving Technique.

"Roar!"

From deep within the grass, a fierce gust of foul wind swept forth and reached Yang Huai's back in an instant.

Yang Huai's brows moved.

Bang!

With a tremendous crash, his body swayed slightly. Several ear-piercing screeches of metal scraping against metal rang by his ears. A blood-filled maw had savagely bitten down on the golden barrier rising behind him.

"Courting death!"

Coldness flashed through Yang Huai's eyes. His blood and vitality surged, gathering into force, and he drove a fist into the Dog King's waist, sending it flying several meters away.

The vicious dog hit the ground. A thick cloud of black qi rose from its body, and within it, the phantom of a tiger appeared faintly. The black qi around the vicious dog swelled dramatically as it prepared to pounce again.

"A loyal beast, at least! I'll grant you your wish!"

White light surfaced once more in Yang Huai's eyes, instantly locking onto the Dog King. In the next instant, the Dog King let out a mournful howl. The black qi around its body dissipated at once, and it collapsed to the ground.

After confirming that both man and dog were thoroughly dead, Yang Huai swept his gaze around. He carried the Dog King in one hand and the fallen old Daoist in the other, then leaped into the depths of the reed grass.

Not long afterward, deep in the mountains.

After searching around and confirming that Wild Dog Daoist had nothing valuable on him, Yang Huai could only bury him together with the Dog King in a deep mountain pit.

"This makes no sense at all. He didn't even have a single secret manual!"

Standing above the mountain pit, Yang Huai looked at the deep hole filled with fresh earth, annoyance in his eyes.

There were some things in Wild Dog Daoist's pouch—paper men, inked cords, venomous vines, poisoned darts—but in Yang Huai's eyes, not one of them was useful. They were not even worth as much as the Dog King. Still, when he considered that the Dog King might have eaten people, he gave it a physical send-off without hesitation.

But on second thought, even if he had found some vicious technique on Wild Dog Daoist, could it possibly compare to the Soul-Calming Spirit-Severing Technique and the Suiren Spirit Form Visualization Method he currently cultivated? Even if he mastered such wicked arts, they would only make his life force impure and mixed.

Yang Huai immediately cast aside these stray thoughts, though excitement also stirred in his heart.

The two strange techniques he had traded from Feng Ying were truly satisfying to use.

According to the records of the Soul-Calming Spirit-Cleaving Technique, once it reached major accomplishment, it could even harm True Adepts.

Using it to kill some wandering heterodox Daoist was like using an ox-cleaver to kill a chicken.

At the same time, after this battle, Yang Huai vaguely discovered the traits of these heterodox cultivators. They seemed to lean toward cultivation of the soul. Their physical strength might not match the cultivators of the Nine Heavens Orthodox Path Yuan Xiuxiu had spoken of.

Comparing the two, a preliminary impression formed in Yang Huai's mind.

Nine Heavens Orthodox Path: abundant essence and vitality, complete foundations of the soul; in battle, they could charge into the fray and bear mountains upon their shoulders, while in civil arts, they possessed all manner of unfathomable divine abilities and transformations.

Heterodox practitioners: weak-bodied and short of breath, relying entirely on their souls and all sorts of bizarre, vicious arts of great power to wreak havoc?

Yang Huai did not know whether this notion was biased, but if it truly was as he imagined, the inheritance of the Nine Heavens Orthodox Path had to be even more profound than he thought.

Perhaps it was far more complete and powerful than the Daoist inheritances of the Xi Huang Kingdom?

"At least, that's how it seems for now. Most of the Xi Huang Kingdom's inheritances focus on the foundation of the soul, whereas here, they seem to cultivate both, much like the path of the ancient gods?"

Yang Huai's Daoist attainment was still too shallow to confirm his own conjecture. Perhaps he would only understand their respective strengths and weaknesses after officially cultivating the Lesser Circulatory Cycle Method to great perfection.

After hastily burying the old Daoist, Yang Huai disappeared into the deep mountains, moving swiftly toward the forest.

Wild Dog Daoist's appearance had left Yang Huai uneasy after all. He feared that the others in the forest might have suffered greatly.

They were his fellow villagers, after all. Among them were relatives within five degrees of kinship, or childhood companions who had grown up alongside him.

Moreover, Yang Huai wanted to capture one or two survivors and ask about Hengling Stockade.