Ten Thousand Lamps

The speck of pale golden light was tiny, no bigger than a firefly, yet it stood out starkly in the pitch-black hall. All the commotion stopped short at that moment, and dozens of gazes turned as one to the speck of light, to the young man standing beneath the lampstand with one finger raised.

Xiao Yan looked at the little flame on his fingertip. It was fire formed from the tenth of his Spiritual Energy, the Flame Mantra's fire reborn in this world. It was also what he had condensed after drawing all those dozens of spirit flames into his body with the Flame Mantra's devouring power and refining them.

He flicked his finger, and the little flame drifted from its tip toward the lamp on the lowest tier of the stand. The wick lit up.

It was not the pale blue of before, but a warm, pale gold. The light was not dazzling, yet it was several times brighter than the pale blue spirit flame had been.

The flame in that lamp flickered gently, and a smaller flame split off, drifting toward the second lamp beside it. The second lamp lit up, followed by the third, the fourth, the fifth...

Like a host of living sprites, the pale golden flames leaped from lamp to lamp, climbing tier by tier up the ancient-tree-shaped stand. Each leap lit another lamp, and with each lamp lit, the flame split into more flames that leaped toward more lamps. In the blink of an eye, all those dozens of lamps had been lit.

But the flames did not stop. They leaped down from the lampstand, toward the candlesticks on the hall's four walls, the wine cups on the long tables, the bronze braziers on either side of the doors, and the palace lanterns hanging beneath the dome... One light, ten, a hundred, a thousand... With the lampstand at their center, the pale golden flames spread swiftly through the entire hall like ripples, a silent display of fireworks blossoming quietly within the ancient hall.

Everyone in the hall stood rooted to the spot, watching the flames dance lightly past them, over their heads, and across the wine cups in their hands. They watched one light after another spring to life, until the entire pitch-black hall was utterly illuminated by the pale golden glow in an instant.

Ten thousand lights shone at once.

Yet that was not the most astonishing part. Every flame was exactly the same size, every flame equally bright, every flame flickering in precisely the same way. It was as though a single flame had been divided with perfect precision into more than ten thousand portions, each in its proper place, not a fraction more and not a fraction less.

And everywhere those flames passed, the long tables, the brocade robes, the strands of people's hair-not one was scorched, not even a single hair.

A deathly silence filled the hall.

Those dozens of gazes slowly shifted from the ten thousand lights back to the young man standing beneath the lampstand. Xiao Yan lowered his finger and casually shook out his wrist, a faint smile still on his slightly pale face. Then he turned to look at Luo Feng, who stood among the tables, his face utterly white.

"Brother Luo, was this what you meant by controlling fire?" Xiao Yan asked with a smile. Luo Feng opened his mouth, but could not get half a word out.

With his firebird, he had controlled dozens of spirit flames, gathered them into shape, and sent them back to their original places, earning the cheers of the entire hall. Yet the young man before him had controlled more than ten thousand flames, each precise to the finest degree, and the fire was his own. The two were no longer on the same level. It was like comparing a child who had just learned to walk with a master dancing on the tip of a blade.

At the head of the hall, Luo Tianshen held his wine cup and gazed at the lights filling the room. A strange glint flashed through his cloudy old eyes and vanished.

He could tell that the young man still had only a tenth of his Spiritual Energy, yet he had used that tenth to its utmost, to a nearly terrifying degree. Such seemingly innate control over flames was rarer than power itself.

"Good."

Luo Tianshen set down his cup and spoke that single word calmly. The frozen atmosphere in the hall finally broke, and a thunderous roar of cheers erupted. The elders and younger clansmen were flushed with excitement, pounding the tables and shouting their praise. Even Luo Qing could not help standing and clapping vigorously, while Luo Lan jumped to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Xiao Yan! Xiao Yan!"

Xiao Yan smiled and shook his head, then turned and walked back to his seat. As he passed Luo Feng, he stopped. Luo Feng gritted his teeth, his handsome face turning alternately green and white. But he was, after all, the foremost of the Luo God Clan's younger generation, and he had his own pride. He took a deep breath and cupped his fists to Xiao Yan, his voice somewhat hoarse. "I, Luo Feng, have lost."

Xiao Yan looked at him and nodded. "Brother Luo, your use of Spirit Marks in that firebird was beautiful," he said gently. "I've been reading the Thirty-Six Forms of Pill Pattern these past few days, and there are several things I can't quite understand. I'd like to ask your advice another day."

Luo Feng was slightly taken aback. He raised his head and looked at the young man before him, and much of the defiance and arrogance in his eyes immediately faded. He was no fool; he could tell those words were not mere politeness. He nodded, his voice a little quieter. "All right."

Xiao Yan smiled and returned to his seat. Luo Lan leaned over, his face flushed with excitement, and lowered his voice. "How exactly did you do that just now? More than ten thousand lamps! My eyes could hardly keep up!"

Xiao Yan picked up his cup and took a sip. "Hehe, practice makes perfect, that's all," he said with a smile. On the Dou Qi Continent, with his cultivation as a Dou Di, he could have done that with a casual gesture. But here, using a tenth of his Spiritual Energy, he had exhausted all his mental strength. Even now, the fingers holding his cup were trembling slightly.

By the time the banquet ended, it was late at night. Xiao Yan returned to the secluded courtyard and pushed open the door to his room. Without lighting a lamp, he simply sat cross-legged on the bed and closed his eyes.

The display with ten thousand lights had looked effortless, but in truth, it had pushed that tenth of his Spiritual Energy to its limit. His meridians now throbbed with pain, and the space beyond the three hundred and sixty reverse scales was empty, yet his mind was perfectly clear.

For just now, in the process of using the Flame Mantra to devour those dozens of Luo River Spirit Flames and then using Spirit Marks to distribute the ten thousand flames precisely among the lamps, he had faintly grasped something: the Flame Mantra's devouring power could be fused with the Spirit Marks of this world.

Devouring was for refining; Spirit Marks were for guiding. If he used Spirit Marks to guide the Flame Mantra's devouring power, so that it no longer plundered blindly and brutally, but refined things methodically in the way he wanted... could he assimilate faster?

Xiao Yan's eyes slowly opened in the darkness, a glimmer of light flickering quietly in them. He did not sleep, nor did he want to. Once he had caught hold of this feeling, he could never let it go. Back on the Dou Qi Continent, it was through one flash of inspiration after another like this that he had climbed to the peak, step by step.

He closed his eyes again and sank his mind into his body. Beyond the three hundred and sixty reverse scales, a second layer slowly began to take shape. This time, each reverse scale bore an additional, delicate flame pattern.

At the same moment, in another courtyard of the Luo Shen Residence, Luo Feng sat alone on the stone steps, gazing at the moon in the sky without moving for a long while.

From childhood, he had been a favored son of heaven in the Luo God Clan. He had become a Sovereign at twenty-five, and everyone in the clan had nothing but praise for him whenever they saw him. He had always believed that among the younger generation of the Western Heaven Continent, those who could compare with him could be counted on one hand. But tonight, those ten thousand lights had illuminated his little bit of pride for all to see.

That young man had only a tenth of his Spiritual Energy, and his cultivation was far inferior to Luo Feng's. Yet in the art of fire control, Luo Feng had not even reached his threshold.

Luo Feng lowered his head and looked at his palm. After a long while, he suddenly gave a self-mocking smile. "So this is someone from a Lower Plane..."

He got to his feet, brushed the dust from his robes, and turned into his room. From the bookshelf, he pulled out the copy of the Thirty-Six Forms of Pill Pattern that he had read to tatters, and lit a lamp.

At daybreak, Xiao Yan, who had sat cross-legged all night, finally opened his eyes.

Inside his body, another layer of reverse scales had formed beyond the three hundred and sixty. Each scale in that layer was etched with a delicate flame pattern. The patterns guided the Flame Mantra's devouring power, methodically devouring and refining the Spiritual Energy of heaven and earth that flowed into his body, then driving it to wash over the Dou Qi that had yet to be assimilated. Compared with the first layer, the speed had more than doubled.

Assimilation: two-tenths.

Xiao Yan opened his hand. The pale golden flame in his palm was a little more solid than it had been the night before, and the speck of pink deep within it seemed a little brighter as well.

He took out the four Soul Jades and checked them one by one. Cai Lin's imprint was still faint, still struggling, but this time Xiao Yan was not as anxious as before. He had found a path.

"Wait for me a little longer," Xiao Yan murmured, putting the Soul Jades away close to his body.