Rong Jin's expression changed even more drastically, and even the table before him shook.
He felt the strand of Embryonic Breathing he had pressed beneath the wine cup vanish like a clay ox sinking into the sea. With a single draw from Chen Heng, it disappeared without a trace, leaving him no way to track it.
Could he really be a disciple of some great sect?! But just what grade of Qi Cultivation Art is this...
There was no more time to think.
In the flash of a spark.
Rong Jin saw the wine cup hurtling straight toward his face. He hurriedly roused his Embryonic Breathing and reached out to seize it, but at his first touch, the cup burst apart before his utterly horrified eyes!
"This is bad!"
Rong Jin hastily shielded his face with his sleeve to keep the wine from splashing onto it. Yet the liquid merely trembled before whirling through the air like a silver serpent frolicking in water, darting here and there until its rich fragrance filled the hall.
"Stride swiftly toward the azure clouds, how mighty your ambition; transcend the mortal world and pluck the highest branch."
Chen Heng laughed heartily and kicked over the table before him, sending cups, plates, and bowls clattering.
The long, silver-serpent stream suddenly divided into three strands, condensing into slender swords of water. They flickered with fine rays of light and descended upon the three men.
Rong Jin and the others paled in alarm and struck out with their Embryonic Breathing. Before their attacks could reach them, however, the slender swords had already interwoven and flown away, tracing more than half a circle through the air.
"Fashion a ladder into the moon..."
Chen Heng gently brushed his hand through the air. The slender swords shrank further, yet their sharp, threatening presence only grew stronger, like blades breathing murderous intent.
"Dip the brush in mountains and rivers, lay a hand upon the stars; laugh proudly at wind and cloud, and set them in a mighty verse."
He advanced another three steps. With each step, the slender swords circled faster. After sixteen interweaving passes, his Embryonic Breathing flashed, and they suddenly slashed down!
"Disperse!"
Rong Jin could no longer spare a thought for disciples of great sects or generals who upheld the state. That chilling murderous intent weighed on his heart like a great stone. His hands fluttered swiftly like spinning wheels, and with a movement of his throat, he suddenly blew forth a vast gale.
But an instant later, he heard a succession of tearing sounds like silk being ripped apart. A bone-chilling sharpness sliced the gale to shreds in one stroke! Three bleak gleams of water stabbed straight toward his pupils!
"..."
Rong Jin's mind collapsed in terror, his liver and gall seeming ready to burst.
When had he ever experienced such a life-and-death struggle between cultivators of the same realm? For a moment, even his soul seemed to have drifted away, as though he had fallen into clouds and mist.
He stood dazed for an unknown length of time, until a low sigh from Rong Tuo beside him finally pulled him back to his senses.
Looking closely, he saw three slender swords condensed from wine hanging motionless three inches from his face. Their enticing fragrance filled his nose, rich beyond description.
Behind those slender swords, Chen Heng also stood motionless, his eyes half closed, as though entranced.
Chen Heng did not move, and Rong Jin dared move even less. They remained silent for a long while, until Rong Jin's face flushed red. Believing Chen Heng was deliberately humiliating him, he was just about to throw caution aside and evaporate the wine.
Then came a soft sigh.
Chen Heng raised his head and pointed.
"Brush the azure wall, sweep dragons and serpents in drunken ink, soaring and dancing, lingering and circling..."
As those words fell, the three slender swords condensed from wine immediately dropped limply to the floor, splashing wine over Rong Jin's lower legs.
Yet his expression was now wholly respectful, and he paid no heed to the stains on his clothes.
Rong Tuo and Rong Xuantao were likewise silent. They exchanged looks, filled with nothing but horror.
With nothing but a single breath of Embryonic Breathing, he had manipulated a cup of wine in such marvelous ways, and even cut through Rong Jin's Wind-Summoning Dao Art in one stroke?
Such powerful, vast Embryonic Breathing!
Such peerless sharpness!
Just what grade of Qi Cultivation Art did he practice?!
If this man was not a disciple of a great sect, who else could deserve that title?
While everyone's thoughts churned, Chen Heng silently shook his head, unable to suppress his regret.
In that instant just now, he had seemed to be only a thin sheet of paper away from "Ten Steps, One Kill." One poke would have pierced it, bringing his cultivation of the sword into an entirely new world.
Yet that distance of a single thin sheet of paper.
Once the sudden flash of inspiration faded, it seemed to become a heavenly abyss, and his reaching hand found only shadowy depths.
"Well?"
Chen Heng gathered his thoughts and merely looked over, his expression showing neither smugness nor arrogance.
"Was my cup of wine worthy of your regard?"
The hall fell deathly silent. No one spoke. Only after a long while did Rong Jin clap his hands with a sigh of admiration and prostrate himself upon the floor.
"Sir, you could bring a kingdom to its knees!"
After this, there were no further objections.
The two sides soon settled the terms: one thousand Talisman Coins, five days of cultivation in the Jade Womb Mother Pool, and the cultivation resources Tong Gaolu carried. They signed a Spirit Contract and swore their oaths.
"With the business concluded, we ought to drain a great cup. Alas, my taste for wine has already run its course today. What shall we do instead?"
After putting the gleaming golden Spirit Contract into his Heaven and Earth Bag, Chen Heng put an arm around Rong Tuo and smiled.
"I wonder what works on geography and local customs your library holds, fellow Daoist. Might you allow me a look?"
Rong Tuo's aged face tightened.
He wants to see our Rong Clan's Dao Arts?!
He glared fiercely at that bamboo-and-wood mask, longing to demand sharply whether they had not agreed on only three conditions.
But cowed by the might Chen Heng had just displayed, he could not get the words out and merely stammered.
"You truly are a gentleman of lofty virtue, fellow Daoist. To show me such generosity-I scarcely deserve it."
Chen Heng let out a long sigh.
"You know I am thin-skinned, so you refrain from speaking for fear of wounding my pride? There is no need. I already understand your wish to bestow Dao Arts upon me. Do not worry about me. Please, act freely, and do not let your kindness go to waste."
A cold laugh rose in Rong Tuo's throat. Before he could finish it, however, Chen Heng had swept him up and transformed into a streak of escaping light, shooting into the sky toward the clouds.
After several consecutive inquiries, Rong Tuo finally gave in helplessly and pointed in a direction.
Chen Heng smiled faintly and roused his Embryonic Breathing, making the escaping light faster still.
Within the time it took to drink a cup of tea, they reached a pavilion that was black from top to bottom. Just as Chen Heng was about to descend, Rong Tuo seized his sleeve.
"Only one hour!"
His voice and expression were stern as he clung to Chen Heng. "No matter what, you may browse for only one hour!"
Chen Heng's expression remained placid as he agreed. "Thank you."
Watching him enter the pavilion without the slightest change of expression, Rong Tuo instead found himself bewildered and stood rooted to the spot.
One hour...
What could anyone read in just one hour?
As for Chen Heng.
After pushing open the doors, he saw two full rows of bookshelves, their jade slips, bamboo books, and silk manuscripts neatly arranged. Bright candles shone in a corner, where a boy with a weathered face stood watch.
Chen Heng gave the boy a slight nod, then paid him no further attention. He casually picked up a bamboo book and began leafing through it.
"This is... the 'Long Spear, Great Phoenix, Unflagging Art of Sexual Harvesting'?"
Chen Heng glanced at it once and frowned inwardly. What a load of nonsense.
He connected his mind to the Golden Cicada and entered the One True Dharma Realm. Once he had committed every word to memory, he withdrew and moved on to the next book.
In the boy's eyes, however, Chen Heng merely stared blankly at the bamboo book for a few breaths before setting it down and picking up another volume.
This continued until an hour had passed.
Just as Rong Tuo grew so anxious that he could barely resist bursting through the doors, Chen Heng walked slowly out of the pavilion, his expression as calm as ever.
"How many arts did you memorize, fellow Daoist?" Rong Tuo asked, studying his expression.
"There may not be many Dao Arts among them, but there are plenty of mortal martial techniques, military treatises, and pharmacopoeias. I hope you did not become dazzled by the choices and pick the wrong ones..."
"I memorized them all. Every word is firmly lodged in my mind."
Rong Tuo could no longer restrain himself and burst into laughter, clutching his belly. He took no offense, believing Chen Heng was merely joking.
Afterward, he led Chen Heng to a clean little three-story building, gave the palace maids some instructions, then cheerfully rode away on a cloud, bidding him a happy farewell.
"I was not making an idle boast... I really did memorize everything."
Watching Rong Tuo's boundless amusement, Chen Heng shook his head.
He had no need for the palace maids' service. He simply went to the top floor, locked the door, found himself a large ebony chair, and sat down, immersing his mind in the One True Dharma Realm.
Then, one day.
Within that vast, empty expanse without bounds or features, Chen Heng's body suddenly trembled. Streams of air swirled and circulated around him, producing mighty sounds of bells, chimes, and dragons' cries that rolled down like waterfalls and surging waves.
"It worked!"
Smiling, Chen Heng reached out and gathered the currents of air, speaking inwardly.
Thanks to Heavenly Demon Advent Agency for the 500-point tip, and to No One Sings the Great Wind for the 100-point tip.
Before you continue