Spirit-Shocking Finger

The two followed Cheng Zi Ya out of the alley and onto Dingding Avenue. Not far away, a black carriage slowly approached to the clip-clop of hooves.

Cheng Zi Ya had been making his regular visit to the prime minister's residence that night to treat Prime Minister Ding Fengyuan. On his way back, he had sensed an unusual presence nearby.

Someone had deliberately suppressed the fluctuations of heaven and earth primordial energy, and the occasional flashes of fierce killing intent had caught his attention. That was how he had come to save He An and Han Chanjuan in their moment of peril.

Cheng Zi Ya walked over to the carriage and gave the driver a few instructions, then turned to He An. "Boy, don't lose heart. There were a hundred and eight thousand miles between your cultivation and that fellow's. Holding out until I arrived was already quite an achievement. All right, take this girl home first..."

With a hearty laugh, he reached out his large hand to clap He An on the shoulder. When he noticed the bloodstained wound there, his hand paused. Instead, he patted the horse's head beside him, then turned and strode away.

He An helped Han Chanjuan into the carriage and told the driver where to go. The driver turned the horse around, sat on the shaft, and flicked his whip as they set off.

The carriage was small but well enclosed, shutting out the howling wind and biting cold.

They sat shoulder to shoulder. Looking weary, Han Chanjuan lowered her eyelids and leaned against the carriage, resting her smooth forehead against its wall. As the carriage jolted along, she tucked a strand of hair back at her temple and said softly, "Actually... back there, you could have escaped on your own."

"I couldn't just leave you behind!" He An replied as though it were only natural, gazing out the window at the darkness, broken here and there by points of lamplight.

After that nightmare of an ambush, neither had yet recovered from the terror. Silence settled over the carriage.

Wheels rumbled and the horse whinnied as they traveled on, the carriage jolting now and then. Amid the horse's neighs, they crossed Dingding Avenue and turned into Yongning Ward, where lights wove a brilliant tapestry around them, illuminating the carriage's interior.

"Let me see your wounds?" Han Chanjuan straightened and took He An's arm with concern.

"Oh... they're nothing serious. The Academy Head already checked them. They're only flesh wounds." Feeling her soft, warm body nestling against him, He An grew flustered.

"Your shoulder's bleeding, and... your chin looks swollen too?" Han Chanjuan leaned closer and examined He An carefully. Slowly, mist gathered in her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to hold back her tears, and her voice caught. "It's all my fault... I dragged you down!"

He An caught the fragrance of her hair and looked at her face so close to his, her brows gracefully curved and her breath fragrant as orchids. An inexplicable panic stirred in him. He quickly straightened his back and tried to sound casual. "They were after me. You suffered an undeserved calamity because you were with me. I already feel guilty for not protecting you properly."

"Close your eyes!" Han Chanjuan sat upright, the lights outside casting a crimson glow over her cheeks, making her as lovely as a flowering crabapple.

"What... for?" He An felt his heart suddenly quicken, his mouth turning dry.

"No talking. Close your eyes!" Han Chanjuan's voice was indescribably gentle, and the atmosphere inside the carriage instantly turned intimate and strange.

He An obediently closed his eyes. His heart seemed to plunge with them into some mysterious, unknown realm, pounding wildly.

"Open your mouth!" Amid a soft rustling, Han Chanjuan drew a tiny, exquisite bundle from inside her clothes. Unfolded, it proved to be a handkerchief wrapped around a scarlet pill. She raised her hand and pushed it into He An's mouth.

"Mm...?" He An opened his eyes wide in confusion and looked at Han Chanjuan.

"This is a supreme healing medicine. Swallow it. No spitting it out!" Han Chanjuan covered He An's mouth with her delicate, fair hand, her smiling eyes curving into crescents.

A strange, rank and astringent taste mingled with bitterness and spice flooded his nose and mouth. The pill slid down his throat, and He An frowned in distress. "This medicine... tastes awful!"

"Good medicine tastes bitter but cures the illness. Don't worry. Once you've taken my medicine, no matter how badly you're hurt, you'll recover until you're bouncing around again." Seeing He An swallow the pill, Han Chanjuan smiled like a blooming flower, her slender hands playing with the hair at her temple.

Despite the grueling fight in the alley, she had suffered no injuries. Once she recovered from her fright, her usual spirited manner returned.

Han Chanjuan lived in Yongning Ward. Pedestrians were sparse along its spacious streets, and a few vendors rubbed their hands in the cold wind as they called for customers. A lantern hung beside a steaming pot, and the aroma of food drifted through the air.

This was the wealthiest part of western Luoyang City. Those who lived here were either rich or noble. The ward blazed with lights, and many grand households hung lanterns outside their imposing gates, with two enormous stone lions crouching at their entrances.

He An helped Han Chanjuan down from the carriage and watched her walk straight into the ward and knock with the ring on a large gate. A moment later, the gate opened, and a man who looked like a steward poked his head out before hurriedly opening it wider. Han Chanjuan turned and waved to He An, then slipped inside.

He An climbed into the carriage and returned alone to his lodgings at the Knowledge and Practice Institute. It was late into the night. Opening the door, he found the table in disarray and Fan Dazhi lying on the bed with his head pillowed on his arms, one leg crossed over the other and swinging leisurely.

At the sight of He An, he sprang upright and let out a satisfied belch. Looking a little sheepish, he said awkwardly, "Xiao An, you're back? I saved you... a fish... and half a chicken. Hey! What happened to you?"

He An recounted what had happened. Beyond his astonishment, Fan Dazhi was filled with lingering dread. Sitting on the bed, he patted his chest. "Thank goodness the Academy Head arrived in time. Otherwise... I can't imagine what would've happened. That wicked loach was too powerful. Well, now he'll never hurt anyone again. That's what they call evil getting its just deserts... Hmm... Xiao An, it looks like the Cui Family must have something to do with this... Wait here. I'll find you some Wound-Healing Powder." With that, he hopped off the bed and shuffled around in his shoes, rummaging through chests and cupboards until he found a small porcelain bottle.

"Dazhi, you've become much more sensible, and steadier too." He An removed his bloodstained clothes and poured the white powder from the bottle onto his shoulder wound. The slight sting made him frown. Fortunately, the other wounds had only broken the skin. The kick Huang Daogong had landed on his lower abdomen was the worst injury, and it still ached dully.

He drew in a sharp breath. The rank bitterness had yet to fade from his mouth. He had no idea what medicine that girl had given him. Whatever it was, she wouldn't hurt me. He An shook his head with a wry smile.

"Xiao An, if it hurts too much, have a chicken leg. When I was little, I climbed a tree to steal birds' eggs and fell and broke my arm. Whenever it hurt, my dad gave me a chicken leg... and then it didn't hurt anymore." Fan Dazhi watched He An with concern.

"I'm fine. It's late. Get some rest." He An smiled. Once Fan Dazhi had crawled under the covers, he sat cross-legged on the bed and began regulating his breathing and circulating his cultivation technique.

Fan Dazhi poked his head out from under the covers and grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "Xiao An, that... Chanjuan treats you pretty well, doesn't she? She even had someone bring over a whole heap of good food. Heh, heh, heh."

The fellow's laugh was so peculiar that He An could not be bothered to answer him. He silently circulated his technique. Before long, the dan foundation in his lower abdomen grew fiercely hot, and the true qi stored within it poured out uncontrollably, rampaging through his body. At the same time, the dull pain in his injured abdomen intensified.

Alarmed, He An hurriedly stopped circulating his technique, only to discover with astonishment that the heaven and earth primordial energy above his head had become extraordinarily dense. It surged madly into his body at several times its usual speed, drawing in wisps of cool air from outside the window. More and more heaven and earth primordial energy gathered, gradually forming a huge vortex that hung like a funnel over his head...

"Whoa! Xiao An, what technique are you practicing? How did you do that?" Fan Dazhi clearly sensed the unusual fluctuations of primordial energy in the room and exclaimed in dumbfounded amazement.

"I... I..." His face crimson, He An clenched his teeth. His wounds felt as though countless ants were crawling over them, itching unbearably. His stomach churned, and a strong rush of rank bitterness rose into his mouth, nearly making him vomit.

He An instantly realized that the pill he had swallowed was taking effect. But its effects... were far too overbearing.

Fan Dazhi gazed enviously at the sweat-drenched He An and thought, This is what Teacher meant by extraordinary natural gifts. Extraordinary natural gifts! His martial cultivation advances a thousand miles a day. I could never compare...

Little did he know that He An was enduring a life-and-death ordeal. The pill Han Chanjuan had fed him was the exceedingly rare Golden Summit Spirit-Storehouse Pill. Its ingredients were precious and scarce, making it extremely difficult to refine. Legend held that it could bring the dead back to life and grow flesh on bare bones. For cultivators, it could even rebuild the body, open their acupoints, and advance their cultivation. When the Great Liang Kingdom fell, Han Zongwang, one of the world's four great grandmasters, had found five in its treasury. Because he doted on his granddaughter Chanjuan, he had given her two.

Vast quantities of heaven and earth primordial energy were now pouring into He An's body, while the true qi in his dan foundation was in utter chaos. At any moment, his cultivation could run wild and destroy all his meridians.

A flicker of panic crossed his mind. He tried using different techniques to draw the true qi back into his dan foundation, but the results left him bitterly disappointed. The Golden Summit Spirit-Storehouse Pill was far too potent. At his current level of cultivation, it was no different from pulling up seedlings to help them grow. His body's meridians simply could not withstand it.

The true qi in his body rampaged uncontrollably, tearing at his meridians like millions of little knives gouging and slicing...

In agony, He An raised his hand into a strange position and tried circulating a technique to gather the true qi into his right arm. Only after roughly half an incense stick's time did he manage to collect a little.

He An was utterly exhausted and about to give up when the true qi he had channeled into his right arm reached the Pool at the Bend Acupoint and suddenly accelerated. In the next instant, a miracle occurred. The countless chaotic streams of true qi within his dan foundation seemed to answer a summons, surging madly toward the Pool at the Bend Acupoint in his right arm.

The Pool at the Bend Acupoint, also known as yang marsh and ghost minister, belonged to the hand yangming large intestine meridian. It was a he-sea point, associated with earth among the five elements. Countless streams of true qi poured into it, one after another, as though guided there: dust returned to dust, earth to earth.

The pain in He An's body immediately diminished, and his spirits lifted. His technique circulated faster. His right hand trembled slightly, three fingers curled together while his index and middle fingers pointed toward the window. Hiss, hiss! An exceedingly fierce burst of force shot from his fingertips, piercing a large hole through the window paper.

Spirit-Shocking Finger-through sheer chance, He An had actually unleashed its first form.

He yearned desperately to improve his martial cultivation, especially after nearly being killed in that night's battle against Huang Daogong. That desire had become more urgent than ever, and this sudden turn of events filled him with wild joy.

Whenever He An had practiced the Spirit-Shocking Finger before, his true qi had stalled upon reaching the Pool at the Bend Acupoint. The technique's demand for abundant true qi was simply outrageous. The amount an ordinary person's dan foundation could hold was nowhere near enough to activate its first form.

The moment the Spirit-Shocking Finger was unleashed, the true qi within him was like countless galloping wild horses suddenly tamed, slowly flowing back into his dan foundation.

"Xiao An, you actually mastered it?" Curled beneath his quilt with half his head exposed, Fan Dazhi stared unblinkingly at what had just happened.

Didn't Teacher say nobody had mastered the Spirit-Shocking Finger in hundreds of years? Why did it look so easy? Perhaps there's only one explanation: Xiao An's natural gifts are simply extraordinary... When He An did not reply, Fan Dazhi lay beneath his quilt, rubbing his chin and thinking to himself.

Atop a mysterious mountain peak, clouds and mist swirled. That white mist was actually heaven and earth primordial energy so dense it seemed solid. A figure sat beside a board, playing a game against himself.

At the very moment He An unleashed the Spirit-Shocking Finger, the figure gave a soft "Oh?" His hand paused with a black stone pinched between his fingers. He gazed into the far distance, seemingly seeing He An's face clearly, and smiled. "Interesting!" With that, the black stone fell onto the board, completing the formation of a great dragon...