Chapter 58: Catastrophe Approaches

From that moment on, Liang Yan devoted himself to cultivation within the thatched cottage. Aside from spending his nights in the spiritual spring cave practicing his techniques, most of his time was dedicated to honing two divine arts: the Thunder Mastery and the Red Pine Needle Technique.

On this particular morning, in a secluded valley outside the apricot grove, Liang Yan stood atop a massive boulder, garbed in a grey robe, hands clasped behind his back.

Suddenly, with a sweep of his right sleeve, a small redwood box spun out, hovering in the air. He raised two fingers of his left hand before his chest, chanting a secret incantation in a low voice.

With a resounding crack, the redwood box unleashed thousands of fiery needles, each glowing crimson like flames, forming a cloud of fire in midair. The fiery cloud appeared abruptly and vanished even faster; in the blink of an eye, the needles shot out in all directions, embedding themselves in the surrounding cliffs with a sharp hiss.

Upon closer inspection, the cliffs were riddled with holes, wisps of pale blue smoke rising from the wounds.

Liang Yan swept his sleeve again, and the pierced rock walls crumbled layer by layer, disintegrating into ashes. The inner surfaces of the cliffs were charred black, as if scorched by intense fire.

Satisfied, Liang Yan nodded approvingly. He formed another hand seal with his left hand, murmuring under his breath. Instantly, the thousands of crimson needles flew back from the cliffs, streaming like rivers converging into the redwood box.

“These Red Pine Needles are truly extraordinary,” he mused, pleased as he examined the box. “The power of the separation fire imbued within grants a sudden burst of force—certainly enough to catch an opponent off guard.” With a gesture of his right hand, the redwood box spun back into his sleeve and vanished.

Over the course of a month, Liang Yan had erased the previous owner's imprint from the Red Pine Needles, successfully refining them as his own. This set of flying needle spiritual tools could unleash astonishing power, and with the separation fire, had become one of his few deadly weapons.

Yet the needles had one flaw: they could only be used once per battle. After deployment, they had to be retrieved and stored in the redwood box to accumulate fire energy with spiritual power. In actual combat, opponents would never allow such a respite. Thus, mastering the timing of the Red Pine Needles’ release was of utmost importance.

Liang Yan sat cross-legged on the boulder, recalling the various techniques for deploying the Red Pine Needles, about to test them once more. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat, followed by a wrenching pain within.

“Ah!”

Even someone as resolute as Liang Yan couldn't help but cry out in agony. He inwardly cursed, “This is bad!” Almost instinctively, he swept his spiritual sense toward the location of the red light cluster within his body.

What he saw chilled him to the bone: the red light cluster had broken through the defense of the Twin Fish Array and was now ascending along his meridians at a visible pace, heading for his sea of consciousness. The golden barrier encasing it had been worn down to less than half its original thickness.

At this rate, in less than two days, it would reach his sea of consciousness. What would happen then, no one could say.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Liang Yan began to calculate his options.

“This red light cluster cannot be suppressed by my own cultivation alone. I had hoped to seek help from Senior Rottenwood, but through a twist of fate, I never even met him. We were merely chess companions, gentlemen’s acquaintances, and I do not know his identity—where would I even look for him?”

“My knowledge of the cultivation world is shallow; relying on myself alone, I might never learn what this thing is before I die… Wait, perhaps I should first consult Uncle Lin. At the very least, I can find out what kind of demonic art afflicts me, then decide what to do next.”

Having made up his mind, Liang Yan immediately set out for Lin Fei’s residence.

Several hours later, he arrived at the gate of a secluded pavilion, standing respectfully outside. Not long after, a maid emerged—not the same one he had met last time.

“Immortal Lin is in the main hall, please follow me,” the maid said, turning inward. Liang Yan followed silently.

They passed through the inner courtyard and came to a vermilion hall. The maid stood to the side, gesturing politely for him to enter.

Liang Yan nodded, stepped over the threshold, and saw two people seated inside. One was a gentleman in a green scholar’s robe, holding a folding fan, exuding elegance and affability; the other was a woman in blue, not strikingly beautiful but pleasant and dignified, her poise evoking instant goodwill.

Both smiled warmly at Liang Yan.

“So Uncle Zhou is here as well!” Liang Yan thought, a bit surprised but not taken aback; he had long sensed the close bond between these two.

“Greetings, Uncle Lin, Uncle Zhou!” Liang Yan saluted respectfully.

“No need for such formalities, Nephew Liang,” Lin Fei replied kindly. “It’s been over a year since we last met. How goes your cultivation lately?”

Liang Yan’s face flushed. “Liang Yan, you never visit unless you need something,” he chided himself, but with his life at stake, he forced himself to reply:

“I have been diligent in my cultivation, never daring to slack. However, a few days ago, during a sect mission, I was struck by a demonic spell, leaving a red light cluster within me. My skills are insufficient to expel it, so I have come seeking your guidance.”

“Such a thing! But aren’t servant disciples barred from taking sect missions?” Lin Fei exclaimed.

Liang Yan gave a bitter smile. “I speak the truth. I went down the mountain at a senior sister’s invitation, thinking it was a simple mundane task, only to encounter a powerful cultivator.”

Lin Fei and the woman in blue exchanged a glance, then Lin Fei cast a spell. A stream of blue light shot from his hand into Liang Yan’s body.

Liang Yan stood still, letting the blue light enter his body. Lin Fei continued casting, his brow furrowing deeper. After a moment, his expression changed dramatically. He drew his spell back, and a streak of blue light emerged from Liang Yan, trailed by a red glow. The blue light spun uncontrollably in the air, the red light clinging tightly to its tail, the two locked in fierce struggle until both dissipated.

“What is this thing!” Lin Fei gasped.

“Did you manage to expel it from Liang Yan?” Uncle Zhou asked.

“No, I merely probed the red light cluster, and it retaliated, splitting off a strand of spiritual power to battle my ‘Thought-Seeking Spell’ within his body. The red light cluster remains inside him!”

“How strange!” Uncle Zhou exclaimed. “Could that ‘thing’ within him possess its own will?”

“It’s hard to say for certain, but this matter is too bizarre. Zhou Yan, I may need your help,” Lin Fei said, looking at her.

Zhou Yan nodded gently. She took out an ancient bronze mirror from her storage pouch, cast a spell, and the mirror emitted a yellow beam onto Liang Yan.

Liang Yan frowned, a hint of pain showing. Everyone in the hall watched the mirror closely.

Within its surface appeared a red light cluster, pulsing rhythmically like a heart. The sight brought a strange thought to everyone’s minds:

“Could it be alive?”

Lin Fei’s expression grew grave. “This thing seems extremely sensitive to spiritual consciousness. When I sent my intent into your body with the ‘Thought-Seeking Spell,’ it immediately lashed out and expelled my intent. And it’s heading toward your sea of consciousness—if it reaches there, I fear… disaster awaits.”

Though Liang Yan had already guessed as much, hearing Lin Fei’s warning sent cold sweat down his back.

Zhou Yan stared at the mirror for a while, then formed a seal before her chest, her palms emitting a chill. With a low shout, she swept her hand over the mirror, which released a column of icy white mist, condensing into a pillar of frost that shot toward Liang Yan.

As the cold entered his body, Liang Yan felt as if plunged into an ice cellar, every inch of him cracked and frozen. Yet he clenched his teeth, enduring in silence.

In the bronze mirror, the red light cluster was enveloped in chill, its pulsing slowed until it finally froze, motionless.

Though his body was wracked with pain, Liang Yan’s eyes remained fixed on the mirror. Seeing Zhou Yan’s spell succeed, he could not help but smile in relief, about to express his thanks, when Zhou Yan shook her head.

“Do not rejoice too soon. This method only treats the symptoms, not the cause. It is not fully frozen—only slowed for now. If it is not eliminated within a month, the outcome will be the same.”