Initial Realm, Twelve Apertures

Compared to the vastness of heaven and earth, the mortal body is insignificantly small.

Even if one were to draw upon but a fraction of that power, it would be enough to look down upon the mundane world with disdain.

The Wind and Thunder Precious Scroll describes a process of using weak medicinal essences to refine the body, allowing the mortal frame to gradually acclimate to the energy of heaven and earth until it is qualified to contain it.

Shen Yi had long since passed this stage.

What remained was the work of grinding a pestle into a needle; relying on the accumulation of time to fill the twelve major apertures.

Without the aid of precious medicines, this process could be agonizingly slow.

But the one thing Shen Yi did not lack was time.

[Remaining Demon Longevity: 76 years]

[Initial Realm Wind and Thunder Demon-Subduing True Interpretation (Not yet initiated)]

[Five years pass. You use the essence of heaven and earth to mend your internal injuries and purge the hidden ailments accumulated over many years.]

[The fifteenth year. Thanks to your calm state of mind, no complications arise during your cultivation, and you successfully fill the first aperture.]

[The thirty-fifth year. Three apertures are perfected. Wind and Thunder Demon-Subduing True Interpretation initiated.]

[The thirty-eighth year. Your progress slows. After careful exploration, you discover that the energy stored within your apertures has become tainted with your own essence, causing it to conflict with the pure energy of heaven and earth.]

[There is no solution to this matter; one can only maintain a calm heart and proceed slowly.]

[The sixty-fifth year. You fill five major apertures, leaving you only one step away from the minor completion of the Wind and Thunder Demon-Subduing True Interpretation.]

[Remaining Demon Longevity: 1 year]

[Personal Remaining Longevity: 46 years]

This was the first time his own longevity had exceeded that of the demons.

Shen Yi sat on the stone steps, closing his eyes to sense the brand-new world.

Compared to the twenty-five years of added life, his joy stemmed more from within his body.

The abundant energy in his five apertures flowed slowly through his limbs and bones, like nectar in a lotus pond—fragrant, mellow, and intoxicating.

He raised his palm and curled his fingers slightly.

A layer of ethereal white mist surged to his fingertips, laced with threads of crimson.

This was the nature of the Wind and Thunder Demon-Subduing True Interpretation. Because it was a technique derived from draining the body, constantly converting blood and qi through the Zhengyang Saber Technique, the pure energy of heaven and earth had become stained with a hint of blood.

The current Shen Yi, with a single casual swing of his blade, would far surpass the Subduing Demon Yang-Blade of yesterday.

He no longer consumed his own vitality, but drew power from his apertures.

He was now in the Initial Realm; naturally, he had no further use for that crude, shortcut-taking saber technique that could only achieve a temporary transcendence.

Shen Yi stood up and walked out of the alley, feeling his body so light he could almost ascend to the heavens in a single step.

"I'm getting a bit carried away..."

He calmed his mind. Having suddenly acquired such formidable strength, it was inevitable to feel a bit dazed.

He was currently entangled with three different demon factions; one could say he was surrounded by crises.

He had been lucky enough to gain over forty years of longevity, so he shouldn't throw it away for nothing.

Of course, if they truly dared to appear before him, Shen Yi wouldn't mind testing the sharpness of the energy coursing through his body.

With only one year of demon longevity left, it really made one feel quite insecure...

The yamen guardroom.

The sun was already high in the sky.

Six bailiffs stood straight in the courtyard, their eyes fixed intently on the shattered door.

Head Song had been sitting inside since early morning, a bandage wrapped around his forehead. His expression was gloomy, and he hadn't moved an inch all morning.

Chen Ji glanced at the ground from the corner of his eye.

The two corpses covered by white cloth were the very men who had come looking for Shen Yi last night. A foul stench was already beginning to emanate from them; they were clearly dead beyond any hope of revival.

In ordinary times, the group of bailiffs under Shen Yi would not fear Head Song, merely performing the necessary formalities.

But now, people were dead.

On the other side, a group of bailiffs from other guardrooms stood with arms crossed, looking arrogant and conceited.

These people had come with Head Song; they were clearly not to be trifled with.

Usually, there was no reason for outsiders to reach a crime scene before the locals, but that was exactly what had happened today.

What made Chen Ji most uneasy was that Shen Yi had yet to appear.

"..."

Just then, a tall figure slowly stepped into the courtyard.

Everyone's gaze converged at once.

Upon seeing the newcomer, the bailiffs from the other guardrooms instantly wiped the expressions from their faces, their hands moving in unison to the sabers at their waists.

Head Song had broken his usual routine, summoning this group of elites from various guardrooms early in the morning.

This could only mean that the attitude of the yamen superiors had shifted; the man surnamed Shen likely had no more opportunities to act so arrogantly.

Seeing their movements, Shen Yi's own men turned pale, save for Chen Ji, who frowned and gripped his saber hilt without a word.

As the tension reached a breaking point, Song Changfeng suddenly dragged his injured body up from the chair, limping toward the doorway.

He leaned against the wall, squeezing out a strained smile. "You're here?"

Shen Yi nodded slightly. "Yes."

Though he didn't know why this pitiful old man wasn't resting at home, at least the man knew to have the aftermath dealt with, which saved Shen Yi the trouble of speaking.

"I thought you wouldn't arrive until the afternoon." Song Changfeng reached out to welcome him.

"Had rats in the house, couldn't sleep well, so I figured I'd get up early." Shen Yi walked into the room, sat in his usual seat, and looked up. "Something the matter?"

Hearing this, the people outside the room subconsciously looked up at the sky.

Looking back into the room, Magistrate Shen sat in the main seat, while Song Changfeng stood to the side, clutching his waist, his hand on his saber hilt loosening involuntarily.

That Song Changfeng feared Shen Yi was no secret.

But for him to actively cozy up to him, and even bring a group of elites to make a fool of themselves—it was truly hellish.

"Damn it..."

The other bailiffs felt their faces burn with shame, their minds filled with the desire to leave this wretched place as quickly as possible.

To their surprise, Song Changfeng actually gestured toward them.

"Do you want to pick two to fill out your ranks? They are all carefully selected."

As soon as these words were spoken, the expressions of the group changed.

Baiyun County was not large, and news traveled fast.

Following Shen Yi meant eating and drinking well, but his methods were too filthy; within half a day, their reputations would become as foul as his.

The truly shameless didn't care, but anyone who still valued their face would not want to be the watchdog for a man who bullied decent women.

"Are they any good?"

Shen Yi raised an eyebrow.

Truth be told, he was actually interested.

Since his predecessor was dead and he intended to join the Demon Suppression Division, it was no longer appropriate to use the previous group of men.

But he did have requirements.

At the very least, when encountering something like the incident at Liuli Temple Village, they needed to be able to survive long enough to report back.

This remark clearly offended the people outside.

A man wallowing in wine and lust dared to question their skills.

They were still better than his Bone-Piercing Grappling Hand, which hadn't been practiced in years.

Yet, under the watchful eyes of everyone, Song Changfeng actually gave a bitter laugh. "That depends on who you're comparing them to. Surely not to you, right?"

The words seemed fine, but why did they sound so strange?

The crowd was still chewing on the hidden meaning.

Only Chen Ji rolled his eyes, looking as if he felt the same way.

With that outrageous talent of his, and having taken the seventy-eight-character mantra for himself, in a few years, he would probably be able to break through both the tendon and bone barriers and pursue the realm of a perfected mortal body.