Ancestral Mountain Mother Qi

Though he was joking, Wang Kong moved again!

He drove forward with a clenched fist, striking straight for Chen Lingxi's face!

The form of this punch was crude, but its force was vicious. As the fist wind swept past, it actually let out a piercing crack through the air. Chen Lingxi could even clearly sense that the wind of the punch carried blood and qi like fire, scorching hot.

Chen Lingxi's breath caught. The blood and qi within him surged of their own accord as he retreated three steps in quick succession, raising his left arm across himself like a river-blocking embankment!

Bang!

Fist and arm collided, producing a dull, drumlike boom.

Chen Lingxi felt as though the bones in his forearm were splitting apart. Wang Kong's blood and qi rolled into his body, and a sweet, fishy taste immediately rose in his throat!

Wang Kong, too, was rocked slightly by the rebound, a trace of surprise flashing through his eyes.

"You dared dodge?" After his surprise, Wang Kong's smile turned cold. His narrow eyes squinted into slits sharp as blades. "A mere official slave—Steward Zhao bestowed medicine trials upon you as a favor! Now that you've climbed the high branch of the West Courtyard, you've forgotten what you are?"

Rubbing his wrist, he pressed closer step by step. The muscles beneath his robe drew taut like bowstrings, making him seem like a leopard waiting to pounce on its prey!

The servants sweeping snow nearby had long since shrunk away. How could they dare wade into such muddy waters?

"Has Wang Kong gone mad? He dares lay hands on someone in the Marquis Residence!"

Enduring the searing pain in his forearm, Chen Lingxi could not help frowning.

Just then, a soft cough came from around the covered corridor's corner, followed by a quiet voice.

"Manager Wang, what a fiery temper."

The voice was not loud, yet it was like a gale that instantly tightened the air in the garden.

Someone approached slowly from nearby.

He appeared to be around forty, with a fair, beardless face and gentle brows and eyes like those of a scholar. His indigo straight robe of tussah silk was immaculate, and he held a copper-bodied cloisonné hand-warmer. Its lid was carved in the shape of a Suanni's head, wisps of sandalwood smoke drifting from its nostrils and mouth.

At the sight of the newcomer, Wang Kong's punching stance halted, and his expression shifted slightly. In the end, he gathered his sleeves and bowed. "Manager Liu."

His etiquette was impeccable, but savagery still lingered in his eyes.

Chen Lingxi naturally recognized the man. He was Liu Que, the West Courtyard's manager. He, too, cupped his fist in salute.

Liu Que walked slowly between them. His gaze did not so much as touch Chen Lingxi, falling only upon Wang Kong's clenched fist. With a faint smile, he said, "Manager Wang, Steward Zhao only took you as his adopted son a few days ago, and today you've come to the West Courtyard to teach its servants the rules?"

Still stroking the hand-warmer as he spoke, his tone was mild, as if they were merely making casual conversation. "But this official slave is now specifically tasked with arranging flowers in vases for Miss. If that punch had landed and injured the hand he uses to wield pruning shears and hold flower stems... when Miss asks, how should I answer?"

Veins bulged faintly at Wang Kong's temples. After several breaths of silence, he gritted out, "Wang Kong was rash."

He bowed three degrees deeper. "Chief Manager Liu's reprimand is correct."

"I wouldn't dare." Liu Que chuckled and handed over a plain handkerchief from his sleeve. "Wipe your sweat. In this freezing weather, be careful not to catch a chill! As Steward Zhao's adopted son, you are a man of considerable status even in Yuan River Prefecture."

Wang Kong reached out and accepted the handkerchief, but his fingertips suddenly trembled—the cloth was piercingly cold, evidently soaked through with snow water.

When he raised his head, the fury in his eyes was like charcoal doused in oil, crackling on the verge of explosion. Yet he forcefully suppressed it, squeezing just two words through his teeth: "...Many thanks, Chief Manager Liu."

Liu Que no longer looked at him and turned to Chen Lingxi. "The unglazed purple clay vase you asked for has already been delivered to your courtyard. Why aren't you hurrying off to arrange the flowers?"

With that, he turned and left without lingering.

Chen Lingxi tucked the rattan away into his sleeve, lowered his head, and followed.

As he passed Wang Kong's side, Chen Lingxi suddenly heard an exceedingly soft, almost whispered cold laugh.

Their figures gradually receded, vanishing through the moon gate deep within the corridor.

Wang Kong remained where he was, his five fingers slowly tightening until he kneaded the wet handkerchief into a lump of ice.

After a long while, he suddenly released it, letting the handkerchief fall into the snow.

The anger on his face ebbed away like the tide, replaced by a strange smile that was almost delighted.

"It worked..."

He murmured to himself, then began humming again.

The tune was the most vulgar of street ballads, "Ballad of Treading Snow," its melody so jaunty it bordered on slick.

Keeping time with the tune, he strode through the snow, rounded the frozen winding pond, passed beneath trellises draped in icicles, and headed straight toward Silver Peace Court.

The servants along the way saw his radiant expression and all stepped aside with lowered heads.

Within the eastern warm pavilion of Silver Peace Court, the underfloor heating burned fiercely.

A middle-aged man sat upon a rosewood couch carved with scrolling grass patterns.

He wore no brocade robe, and his features were ordinary: light brows, narrow eyes, a low nose bridge. Only his thin lips, pressed together as though cut by a knife, gave him an innate air of authority even in silence.

At that moment, he was looking down at the account book before him. Smoke from the incense burner bestowed by Lin Suri rose in a straight line from the table, casting shifting shadows across his profile.

Wang Kong entered and dropped to his knees before saying a word.

"Adoptive Father."

He prostrated himself and kowtowed, his posture incomparably respectful.

The middle-aged man was Zhao Yong, chief steward of the Baosu Marquis Residence.

Without raising his eyes, he merely turned a page in the account book. "You tested him?"

"Yes." Wang Kong raised his head, with none of his former frivolity remaining in his eyes. "That official slave truly has been remade from head to toe. Your son used thirty percent of his strength in that punch. Anyone below the Iron Body Realm could never have dodged it, yet he evaded twice in succession. When he blocked it, the rebounding force in his arm bones... was no less than three hundred jin. It was like someone who had just glimpsed the Iron Body Realm."

Zhao Yong finally set down the account book, a faint glimmer passing through his narrow eyes. "In a little over ten days, from a dying medicine slave to someone who has just glimpsed the Iron Body Realm... that dose of Dragon-Drawing Powder truly worked on him."

"Adoptive Father is wise." Wang Kong lowered his head again. "What should we do next? Should your son secretly capture him and bring him back..."

"No need." Zhao Yong leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes as if asleep. "Since he is such fine medicine bait, he must be raised properly. In fact, he must be... tempered all the more."

"In another month, the medicinal effects of that dose of Dragon-Drawing Powder should have dissipated. At that time, secretly find a few men to sever and smash his sinews and bones, then give him another dose of Dragon-Drawing Powder. That way, he can grow into qualified medicine bait."

Wang Kong first answered in assent, then suddenly hesitated. "What about the Eldest Miss..."

The smoke in the incense burner suddenly dispersed, obscuring Zhao Yong's expression, but his gaze remained as calm as ever.

"In this residence, if you defy the Eldest Miss's wishes, there is no need for me to say anything. Someone will naturally protect you."

A figure surfaced in Wang Kong's mind, and all his doubts immediately vanished. He bowed and withdrew.

Zhao Yong rose to his feet, and at last a trace of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Two portions of medicine bait, refined into two Dragon Pills—enough to poison you to death."

When Chen Lingxi returned to the small courtyard, his forearm hurt as though it were about to break off.

He shut the door and lay on the couch, his body bent like a bow as he resumed breathing exercises and circulated his qi.

As that thread of qi flowed into his forearm, Chen Lingxi clearly sensed that the bones there were covered in countless cracks.

"Wang Kong's blood and qi were like fire. He must have entered the Copper-Red Realm, having cultivated a fiery nature into his blood and qi. His blood and qi were like the flames of a furnace, circulating throughout his entire body.

"No wonder Wang Kong held such extraordinary status among the servants and had earned Zhao Yong's favor!"

"He attacked me because I originally belonged to Zhao Yong, because I was his medicine slave, yet I joined the West Courtyard?"

The pain in Chen Lingxi's forearm gradually eased, but his thoughts kept turning. "What exactly was the medicine Chief Steward Zhao made us test?"

He suddenly recalled that he had not heard any news of Zhao Changle for a long time, and concern rose in his heart.

"Still, Wang Kong said today that I was one of the two who survived the medicine trial. Then Zhao Changle should still be alive."

Thinking this through, he felt somewhat reassured and focused on using that thread of qi to heal his injuries.

Two hours slipped silently away. Dusk had arrived, and there was a moon in the sky that day.

Thin moonlight spilled into the courtyard. Chen Lingxi finally awoke from his breathing exercises.

He raised his hand and examined his forearm. The cracks remained, but the pain had eased considerably.

"Wang Kong, Zhao Yong..."

Chen Lingxi silently recited their names, but his gaze remained quite calm.

Breathing in the smoke from the incense burner, he closed his eyes once more.

As Chen Lingxi practiced breathing exercises every day, his spirit had grown much stronger.

With a stronger spirit, he could maintain Sight-Roaming for longer as well.

The first time Chen Lingxi used the divine ability Sight-Roaming, he had fallen out of the Divine Chamber after only a quarter of an hour. His head had then felt as though it might split apart, and he had been unable to continue, requiring more than a full day to recover.

But now, fourteen days later, Chen Lingxi could already sustain it for half an hour.

Just like breathing exercises and practicing the Seven Forms of Ceasing War, Sight-Roaming every day had become Chen Lingxi's habit.

Lin Suri's life in the Marquis Residence was exceedingly monotonous, consisting only of breathing exercises and cultivation. Chen Lingxi had also seen Lin Suri practice martial arts. He held a bow without nocking an arrow; when he drew the bow, his golden blood and qi transformed into a sharp arrow, which he easily shot forth, plunging into the clouds and vanishing without a trace.

Though Chen Lingxi did not know what it had struck, to him, this was already a godlike feat.

"When I first came to the Baosu Marquis Residence, and even during the first few months, I often heard that Lin Suri was exceptionally cruel, frequently whipping and tormenting servants. Even Wang Chu, the South Courtyard's manager, had once been tormented by Lin Suri.

"But recently, such rumors seem to have become very rare.

"While Sight-Roaming, I have not seen Lin Suri commit any acts of cruelty either."

Chen Lingxi's consciousness slipped into the Divine Chamber, yet his thoughts continued to flow. "Come to think of it, the servants also said that ever since Lin Suri held his birthday banquet, his temperament had been getting better and better."

As he pondered silently, tadpole-like characters revolved through the air in the Divine Chamber.

Chen Lingxi suddenly raised his brows.

[Divine Chamber]

[Divine Ability: Sight-Roaming (Ready)]

[Divine Ability: Total Perception (Unavailable)]

"The tadpole-like characters for the [Total Perception] divine ability have changed from gray to pale gold..."

Chen Lingxi's heart jolted. He had a premonition that this mysterious Total Perception divine ability would soon be usable.

"The greatest change in me compared to before is that thread of qi... or perhaps the blood and qi cultivated through martial arts.

"Could the divine abilities within this Divine Chamber be related to my cultivation?"

Chen Lingxi secretly guessed, "As long as I cultivate diligently, perhaps before long, I will be able to use this Total Perception divine ability."

Delight filled his heart, and his consciousness descended into the South Courtyard of the Baosu Marquis Residence within the Divine Chamber.

As his perspective shifted, Chen Lingxi immediately heard someone speaking to Lin Suri.

"Ancestral Mountain Mother Qi—take it, and one may gain the aptitude of spiritual apertures; drink it, and the marrow sea will churn with silver, tides will rise within bone apertures, and all the bones in one's body will be like an old cauldron exchanged for a new womb.

"Even in a place where spiritual qi is so thin, with the aptitude of spiritual apertures, if one cultivates steadily over time, there is hope of reaching the Three Towers Facing Heaven, escaping the cage, and journeying to the greater world!"

"Brother Lin, neither of us knows the other's origins, yet we both know that we are not the only two coveting the Mother Qi. People from the capital will even be coming!"

"Why don't you and I... join hands to obtain it, and feast upon its precious qi?"