Chapter 47 — Shi Heng Xu Yi

When he woke, the piercing sunlight was so bright that Zuo Yan could barely open his eyes.

He let out a comfortable groan; the faint soreness only made him feel an indescribable ease all over, and he badly wanted to sleep on. After struggling for a moment, he decided to get up. At the Foundation Establishment stage, there was basically no need for sleep—though apart from restoring physical strength, the most important function of sleep was to let the spirit rest.

In the sunlight he stretched, and every bone in his body crackled like beans in a hot pan. Zuo Yan was startled. He hastily ran his hands over his whole body, and only when he found nothing wrong did he feel somewhat reassured.

Every breakthrough left him muddled, utterly unable to make sense of it. It had been the same when *Lesser Cloud and Rain Art* broke through to the fourth layer, the same when *Embryonic Breathing and Spirit Refining* broke through one breath, and this time was no exception. Apart from that burst of crackling and the increase in his cultivation, he had yet to discover any other benefit Foundation Establishment had brought him.

He was too greedy, Zuo Yan thought with a self-mocking smile—the increase in cultivation alone had already benefited him beyond measure.

Stepping out of the house, Zuo Yan, a survivor of calamity, found the warm sunlight all the more precious. Even that dead bird on the roof no longer seemed as loathsome in his eyes as it had the day before.

Standing calmly, he suddenly drew a deep breath; his splayed fingers abruptly flicked, stirring up a blur of afterimages. His expression was focused, his ten fingers seeming to come alive, moving with incomparable speed, the intricate changes among them dazzling to behold. Ever since he had begun learning the *Herb and Wood Art*, this kind of spell that emphasized finger techniques had become one of those he practiced most.

In the Qi Refining stage, there were actually not many spells one could practice when it came to the use of spiritual power; and something like the *Lesser Cloud and Rain Art* had been cultivated by Zuo Yan almost to the limit attainable in Qi Refining. As for the use of spiritual sense, he did not even have a word or two of guidance—he could not even find the threshold, let alone cross it. The only thing he could spend time on, and which he also felt was useful, was finger techniques; thus the *Herb and Wood Art*, with its emphasis on finger techniques, was his only choice.

The increase in cultivation brought no particularly marked benefit to his finger techniques, and this made Zuo Yan deeply wary. Foundation Establishment was only the first hurdle of cultivation; how perilous the road beyond was, one could only understand by trying it oneself.

His goal had long since ceased to be earning crystals and getting by.

To seek answers, he had to pursue power. Even his master, a cultivator at the Golden Core stage, spoke with such dread of the one who had altered his face and erased his memory—to what heights must that person's strength have reached! In other words, he would need at least to surpass his master's power.

His master was at the Golden Core stage...

Zuo Yan drew a deep breath, lifted his expressionless face, and the hands hanging at his sides abruptly clenched tight.

So far away—a goal so distant it was enough to drive one to despair. There were countless cultivators; how many could ever achieve Golden Core? Not to mention anyone else—among the entire second generation of disciples in the sect, the only one with the best hope of achieving Golden Core was Wei Sheng and Shi Heng. And himself? A fellow with only a sliver of talent in the five elements...

If it came to becoming a capable spirit-planter, Zuo Yan did not doubt that he could manage it. But to form a Golden Core—even his most optimistic estimate was no more than one chance in ten thousand.

Ever since he learned that his face had been altered and his memory erased, he had constantly asked himself: was it worth pursuing such a faint, such an unreachable goal? Now that he had become a spirit-planter, his life would only get better and better; if he took a partner, his descendants too could live well. And so—staking his life, staking his very existence on pursuing a goal with almost no hope of success—was it worth it?

Whenever he began to waver, he would think of that recurring dream, of the words repeated again and again: "Not even death can make me forget." Each time he would ask himself: what is it that not even death can make one forget?

He did not know.

He was a timid man; to get by, he could smile obsequiously, he could bow and scrape. But...

He wanted to know.

The change in his state of mind brought a profound change in his attitude toward cultivation as well. He grew more diligent, more hardworking. He knew how low his starting point was, he knew his talent was not good, but he also knew that he had advantages of his own.

Pu—though he had cursed that damnable freak of a demon in his heart countless times, Zuo Yan still had to thank him. Without the Pu Demon, he would not have seen even a sliver of sunlight. For that sliver of sunlight, he was willing to pay any price.

This time, Foundation Establishment had put him through excruciating pain, yet for some reason his mindset had grown calmer and calmer, his thinking clearer and clearer. Being a spirit-planter could greatly raise his standing in the sect, but a spirit-planter obviously could not accomplish his goal; what he should rely on more in that regard was still sword arts. In the future, being a spirit-planter would only be an important means of earning crystals for him, not his main direction of development.

There were many ways to raise one's combat strength, but among cultivators, the strongest in battle were sword cultivators. Moreover, he was in the Qingming Sect—naturally he could not ignore what was near at hand and seek what was far. He might not have much talent for the sword, but he would simply work harder.

The thought of sword cultivation reminded him that once he reached Foundation Establishment, he could refine a flying sword. But he soon ran into a difficulty: he had no spell for refining a flying sword.

At the Henfang Court, Shi Dai caught sight of Zuo Yan and a flicker of surprise crossed her face, but she quickly recovered her composure: "Foundation Establishment is no excuse for slackening. Go to the archive room; there are some jade slips there you may read. When you come out next time, I will examine you myself. If you have been lazy, you will be severely punished." The last four words came out harsh and stern.

Zuo Yan was berated by his master until he dared not raise his head, and could only murmur his assent, crying misfortune in his heart—it seemed he had walked right into his master's line of fire. He could not help but wonder: who on earth had provoked her?

Only when his master's anger had somewhat subsided did he cautiously speak: "Master, your disciple wishes to request a spell for refining a flying sword."

"Refining a flying sword?" Shi Dai could not help frowning, and said with some displeasure: "Your focus should be on spirit-planting and pill-refining. Do not be greedy for too much—greed for too much and you cannot chew it properly. Do you not even understand that principle?"

Hearing this, Zuo Yan groaned inwardly, knowing he would not get any good spell. Aloud he could only say with feigned difficulty: "Your disciple understands, but our Wukong Sect is, after all, the Qingming Sect. If we cannot even refine a flying sword, would we not lose face for our sect when we go out into the world?"

"That is true." Shi Dai heard this and actually found it reasonable: "Go to your Shi Heng Xu Yi's place and find some manual to practice with. Do not spend too much effort on it."

"Yes." Zuo Yan obediently assented.