A drunken dream visitation

The first volume of the Sword Scripture was both a set of sword techniques and a cultivation manual.

Its thirty-six sword forms, combined with footwork and bodily movements, trained everything from skin and membranes to sinews and bones as one practiced.

After reading it through, Zhou Yi closed his eyes in contemplation. The thirty-six sword forms cycled through his mind, while faint tremors within his body simulated the training of his skin and membranes.

In an instant, he completed Skin Refinement and reached the ninth grade of the Martial Dao.

Thinking Zhou Yi was racking his brains, Zhang Cheng offered encouragement as he drank.

"Although the first volume of the Sword Scripture is widely circulated and isn't some profound secret art, it's a classic tempered through a thousand hammerings. Even getting started with it isn't easy..."

By the time Zhang Cheng finished speaking, Zhou Yi had already completed Flesh Refinement and Bone Refinement, bringing the first volume of the Sword Scripture to perfection.

"Brother Zhang, is there any way to obtain the second and third volumes?"

"You brat, you're reaching for the clouds before you can walk! If you can perfect the first volume within ten years and reach the seventh grade of the Martial Dao, I'll swallow my pride and pass the second volume on to you!"

"It's a deal!"

Zhou Yi decided to wait five or six years, then reveal a little of his cultivation and get the second volume for free.

The moon hung high in the sky.

Breeze Cottage.

Zhou Yi practiced his swordsmanship in the courtyard, Purple Ying Sword in hand.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The thirty-six sword forms flowed without pause, smooth as drifting clouds and running water, each movement effortless and familiar.

He leaped and dipped, sword light circling him. Beneath the moonlight, it resembled a silver dragon dancing through the courtyard.

On the tenth repetition, only eighteen forms remained.

On the twentieth, only nine remained.

On the hundredth, only three remained.

Zhou Yi practiced those three sword forms over and over: a lift, a flick, and an intercept.

Finally, he sprang into the air and thrust at a stone block. While the blade was still a foot away, invisible force shot from its tip.

Rip!

A sword mark three inches deep appeared in the stone block.

The lower three grades of the Martial Dao focused purely on tempering the body and allowed only close-quarters combat. Zhou Yi had used no magical power; through swordsmanship alone, he had concentrated his force so it remained intact a foot beyond his blade.

His swordsmanship Divine Ability could turn the decayed into the wondrous, transforming ordinary sword moves.

"With thirty-six forms fused into one, and that one a thrust, I'll call it Immortal Points the Way!"

In less than a day of practicing the Sword Scripture, Zhou Yi had thoroughly mastered it and reached the pinnacle of bodily tempering in the Martial Dao.

Ordinary people also called this the pinnacle of Houtian. Taking the next step and condensing true qi would make him a Xiantian martial grandmaster, a renowned figure in the mortal martial world.

Putting away the Purple Ying Sword, Zhou Yi dug up the wine jar buried beneath the jujube tree.

He broke its clay seal, releasing a cool, refreshing fragrance that seeped into his heart. Beast Drunk, famed for its fiery intensity, had reversed its nature and become exquisitely mellow.

"The little fox was right. The Lunar Essence condensed by the Bright Moon Jade is a superior spiritual ingredient for brewing wine."

Holding the wine jar, Zhou Yi flickered onto the roof ridge and looked up at the bright moon.

Drawn down by the mysterious power of the Bright Moon Jade, an almost invisible thread of silver light condensed into a silver droplet the size of a grain of rice.

The droplet settled precisely in the eye of the Jade Rabbit engraved on the notched jade ring. It seemed to come alive, like a painted dragon given its eyes.

The Bright Moon Jade condensed Lunar Essence only once each night. More than half a year's accumulation had barely been enough for a single jar of wine.

Beast Drunk had originally been ordinary wine, but after being infused with Lunar Essence and stored for half a year, it had transformed into spiritual wine.

"The Cassia Tree, the Jade Rabbit... This world has immortals, buddhas, gods, and devils. I wonder whether there's a Lunar Palace on that moon."

Zhou Yi tipped back his head and took a swig. As the wine entered his body, he felt as though he might float away and become an immortal.

Beast Drunk nourished his flesh, Lunar Essence nurtured his soul, and the Yellow Court Dao Scripture circulated to refine the spiritual energy in the wine. A single jar strengthened his essence, qi, and spirit alike, making it superior even among spiritual wines.

After finishing the jar, Zhou Yi did not circulate his magical power to dispel its effects. He simply fell drunk upon the roof.

Lying on the ridge, he sank into a deep, contented sleep.

In his dream, an elderly man and woman stood beside him, whispering over his reclining body.

He strained to hear them, but it was as though a veil of mist lay between them.

Sunlight fell across Zhou Yi, and he slowly opened his eyes. The sun was already well into the sky.

"I dreamed!"

Zhou Yi frowned and carefully recalled the elderly couple from the night before.

Cultivators rarely dreamed. Like a sudden stirring of the heart or a warning from the soul, such dreams were omens.

"It was them. Could something have happened in Hengyang?"

"Old Zhang cultivates both martial and Daoist arts. He must know how to interpret dreams. I'll ask him what this portends..."

The Ministry of Works.

For the first time, Zhang Cheng had arrived before Zhou Yi. He was drinking Beast Drunk, its rich alcoholic scent drifting all the way outside.

In the entire Ministry of Works-even counting every department of the Demon-Slaying Bureau-few lived as freely and leisurely as Zhang Cheng.

"Brother Zhang, I dreamed of my parents last night."

Zhou Yi described the dream.

"Your parents stood by your bed, but you couldn't hear what they were saying..."

Zhang Cheng set down his wine jar, pity and sympathy in his eyes. "Dreams like that usually mean your parents died with regrets, and no one has tended their graves since. So they visit their descendants in dreams."

"There should be someone tending them. When I left home, I still had an older and a younger brother..."

Zhou Yi's voice grew softer and softer. In this world, life and death were all too commonplace.

Back then, honest commoners had become refugees because Hengyang had suffered years of drought. Heretics of the White Lotus Path had seized the chance to preach, inciting tens of thousands of civilians to rebel and pillage and slaughter across the land.

Government troops had spent months suppressing the uprising before it gradually subsided.

Bandits combed the land with wide teeth; soldiers scraped it with fine ones.

The little grain the Zhou family had left could not feed them all, so one night Zhou Yi had quietly risen and slipped away from home.

He had intended to find a wealthy household and sell himself into servitude on the strength of his youth and vigor. That way, he could eat his fill and still help his family.

Who could have imagined that even wealthy households could no longer afford servants? He had wandered all the way to Luo Capital, where the Demon-Slaying Bureau happened to be recruiting executioners. To fill his stomach, he had entered the Punishment Office Prison.

"My condolences."

Zhang Cheng patted Zhou Yi's shoulder. "Back then, I went into seclusion in the mountains to cultivate, but something went wrong along the way. By the time I emerged, my parents had already been dead for years."

After a moment's silence, Zhou Yi said, "Brother Zhang, I intend to go back and see them, clear the weeds from their graves, and offer incense."

"Hengyang... That's over ten thousand li away. Outside, things aren't nearly as peaceful as in the Capital. It was sheer luck you made it here alive back then. Are you sure you want to return?"

Zhang Cheng advised him, "Dream visitations can't continue forever. Find time to pray for blessings at the White Cloud Temple. After a while, everything will be fine."

How could Zhou Yi not know how chaotic the world outside was?

Great Qian's territory was vast. A single prefecture rivaled a dozen provinces in his previous life. Even with immortal arts and Divine Abilities to transmit government orders, and martial armies guarding every region, demonic calamities remained difficult to prevent.

Luo Prefecture was the foremost prefecture under heaven, and Luo Capital its most favored city. Yet even there, deaths from starvation were commonplace, let alone in the outlying commanderies and counties.

As long as no great demon or devil such as those of the White Lotus Path or the Yaksha Demon Venerable arose, the prefectural authorities suppressed a commandery's famines and rebellions themselves. Their memorials merely noted, "The rebellion/famine has been resolved. Civilian casualties were severe, with countless refugees."

Ordinary people did not even have the right to be counted as a number. Zhou Yi had been one of those "countless."

And this was with Great Qian firmly established on the Cloud Continent, suppressing demons in every quarter. It was said that fifteen hundred years ago, humans and demons had lived intermingled on the Cloud Continent, with the forces of the Demon Race confronting the human kingdoms.

Those had been truly dark times. Immortals and buddhas secluded themselves in mountain forests, tending only their own little patch of land around their sects.

Great devils sacrificed entire cities in blood rituals, extracting and refining souls at will. Great demons roared their dominion over whole regions, swallowing a few villages whenever they grew hungry. Some small kingdoms were even controlled by demons and devils, becoming demonic realms where ordinary people were no better than livestock.

The root cause was the Cloud Continent's immense size. Great Qian had nominally unified it, but in reality, humans occupied only the plains. The mountains and deep forests, which covered a greater share of the land, belonged to the Demon Race.

Zhou Yi's survival on the journey from Hengyang to Luo Capital had truly been luck. Fewer than one in a hundred refugees survived the road.

"As their son, how could I shrink back in fear of hardship and danger?"

Zhou Yi said confidently, "I'm hard to kill. I survived ten years in the Punishment Office Prison. What's this compared to that?"

Having taken over his predecessor's body, he had inherited its karmic ties as well. Whether he felt any affection or not, he ought to make the journey.

"You brat, you really do have some luck."

Zhang Cheng brushed his wrist, and a stack of spiritual talismans appeared in his hand. "These Thunder Talismans require no magical power. Just smear them with your blood qi to activate them."

"The dead are gone, but the living must carry on. Mourn them, and make peace with what has happened."

"Thank you."

Zhou Yi accepted the talismans without saying more, remembering it all in his heart.

Zhang Cheng usually seemed unreliable, a dissolute old man who drank in brothels every day, but he had actually helped Zhou Yi a great deal.

A Thunder Talisman activated by blood qi was a lifesaving treasure to an ordinary household. At a critical moment, it might save an entire family. It was worth a thousand pieces of gold.

Zhou Yi went to Clerk Chen to request at least three months' leave.

Upon hearing what had happened, Clerk Chen took out a hundred taels of silver and offered his condolences.

"This is a Demon-Slaying Bureau token. You can use it to borrow horses and rest at the relay stations along the way. An official horse will deter plenty of petty villains on the road."

Clerk Chen reminded him, "Remember to obtain a travel permit. The north is unsettled, and the inspections are strict."

"Thank you, sir!"

Zhou Yi left the Demon-Slaying Bureau, obtained a travel permit from the Capital's prefectural office, then borrowed a horse from a relay station.

Leaving through Luo Capital's north gate, he spurred his horse onward toward Hengyang in Jing Prefecture.