Chapter 29- Foundations Fit for a Heaven-Piercing Pagoda

Tian felt his bones go soft. He collapsed to the ground, barely managing to cross his legs under him. His cultivation arts roared into action, Advent of Spring rejoicing in all the water aspected qi available, and the Hell Suppressing Sutra was even happier with the presence of both yin and yang qi. He cupped the thousand layer ice in his hands and let his body slowly absorb it. The instructions provided by the hospital, the repeated instructions to bring the treasures home- all forgotten in this blazing moment. Everything just flowed, and Tian flowed with it.

Liren didn’t seem to be in a much better state than he was. He saw her collapse into a sloppy meditation pose on the ground.

“I will have to scold her for a lack of propriety and decorum later.” The thought was faint and fleeting. He had far more urgent things to manage.

The Heartsear fruit was aptly named. The flesh was rich with juice and seemed to pour down his throat, filling his belly, then quickly spreading through his six bowels and five viscera. His small intestine and heart resonated, a bridge of fiery qi forming between them. The fire qi should have ignited the wood vital energy within him, but between the ice and the Hell Suppressing Sutra, there wasn’t any of that sort of nonsense. The energies combined in a steady vortex, spinning through his body, healing, perfecting and refining him.

There was one noticeable defect, a tiny spot on his heart. So small, you couldn’t even see it. But it was broken, and because of that, the connection to the middle dantian was damaged. And that was far from perfect.

The energies flowed into his heart, each with their own strange charm. The ice brought stability and deep nourishment, while the heartsear fruit brought passion and vitality. The defect was healed, the middle dantian was fully connected- and the dragon spirit finally made its appearance.

It hadn’t been lost. It had merely been dormant. Now it was crying, a dragon’s howl shuddering the Crimson Palace and echoing through his meridians. A declaration of unquestionable supremacy, of furious pride and carefree joy. A dragon soared through the sky, and the clouds and rains came with his call. This was the first lightning of spring, a wood dragon, purest yang, in the most yang spot in the body.

The sheer power of the qi slammed into his meridians. It filled his lower dantian to overflowing, pouring into his muscles, racing through the Hell Suppressing Sutra. His bones, already stronger and glossier than most, now took on a distinct luster. His muscles condensed, grew, and condensed again, hard as marble under skin softer than moonlight. His tendons strengthened and grew more elastic. His lungs swallowed air like a whale, and each exhale was like an arrow shooting down the sun.

His blood changed with him, becoming heavier, flowing like mercury, a vibrant purple flecked with gold. Each drop seemed to hold explosive strength and dreadful endurance. His heart beat with a slow, steady thunder, each beat driving the heavy blood through his refined muscle and bone, perfusing him with vitality. His milk-white skin flushed, blushed, like a plum blossom on a snowy tree. Then the color faded, leaving jade luster behind. Skin so soft, it looked like water would drip if you squeezed it, yet strong enough to be impervious to mortal steel.

His eyes brightened and sharpened, his teeth strengthened, his hearing grew more delicate, all his senses became more acute. His foundation deepened, becoming immeasurable. Even his crane-white hair lengthened, cascading down to the ground. Fluttering in a breeze only he could feel.

He heard a tiger roar in front of him. Some instinct telling him that he was complete, but not perfect. What he needed to be perfect was just in front of him. All he had to do was reach out his hands. Tian stretched his hands out, and Liren grabbed them. Like being grabbed by a blazing fire. He could see a star being born within her, a new sun forming. The yin qi stabilized her body and deepened her foundations even as the overwhelming yang reignited her stalled body cultivation. She wasn’t perfect either.

Not alone.

The two joined hands and the Hell Suppressing Sutra once again reached that mysterious pinnacle. Vital energy and qi circulated between the two young heroes. Microscopic imbalances and imperfections were corrected. Old broken bones were perfectly mended, then even the fused bone was smoothed into new strength. Any obstruction, any restriction, was cleared away. All impurity was incinerated and reformed into nourishment.

Were Little Treasure there, he would have seen a circling fate dragon, roaring and cheering the two on, the merit in them blazing like the sun at dawn.

Tian fell into a strange dreaming state.

He was a child again, watching a rich man beat a horse until it screamed.

“You want me to join that. To be part of that. Grandpa, there is no way.”

You don’t have many alternatives.

“Don’t I? Beasts can cultivate. I’ll cultivate like them.”

That’s possible. I think you will regret it, though.

“Living as a beast or as a human, who would pick human? They are animals that cause pain. The fact that they have fancy things doesn’t change that.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

And live like a beast he did, retreating into the jungle. He lived as a beast and thought as a beast, eating strong creatures and natural treasures, moving on instinct and desire. In time, he became strong. In yet more time, he became very strong. At a certain point, looking more monster than man, he ascended to the Heavenly Realm. Even the goal of killing the mad god had retreated to a vague memory, a distant call to vengeance for the remembered suffering of his childhood. Periodically, cultivators would come and try to hunt him down. They didn’t succeed, until one day they did. He was besieged and killed. He didn’t recognize the uniforms, and truly, did it even matter?

He was strong, but it was a meaningless life.

Another dream. He was a child again, picking through the trash. A frozen hand plucked him up by the neck.