Chapter 39

(I'm quite satisfied with this chapter, and it took longer than expected, but it feels great. Yes, as usual, I'm asking for votes and favorites.)

The numerous convicts on suspended death sentences came up with all sorts of speculations, while the owner of the seven thatched cottages by the lake was in great distress.

They were trapped in the Taiji cycle, in the Yin-Yang field, their vital energy and blood not under their control. Moreover, since they had actively stimulated it before, they could not stop even if they wanted to now.

The seven men's vital energy and fist power formed a furnace of blood and qi, placing Su Qignian inside, refining him in a hundred ways, tempering him like steel.

At this point, the seven men could not help but understand Su Qignian's intentions. He was using them as laborers, leveraging their vital energy and fist power to forcibly penetrate his bones, breaking through the bone layer to refine his marrow and blood.

Normally, martial artists build their foundation step by step. The marrow and blood are located in the center of the bones, and refining them with vital energy and blood is extremely difficult, hindered by the bone layer, which must be penetrated bit by bit. This level of cultivation takes a long time, almost as long as the sum of the previous six levels.

Such a meticulous process was transformed by Su Qignian into a fierce furnace, using the vital energy and fist power of the seven key figures among the suspended death sentence convicts in the Free and Easy Valley. Like a master craftsman refining metal, it was a hundredfold and thousandfold tempering, with immediate results.

Now, Su Qignian's body was almost transparent like water, with bright red blood, white bones, and the internal organs appearing as shadows.

As if in a fierce fire, Su Qignian boldly channeled the vital energy and fist power to refine his marrow. With his mental power, he had the first level of the "Maze Great Technique" at its peak, transforming it into countless threads, penetrating his body, forcibly guiding and restraining every bit of vital energy and blood.

Only he could do this; if anyone else tried, the seven streams of vital energy, not much weaker than his, would enter their body, causing the internal organs to shift, the meridians to burst, and leaving them crippled.

Gurgling! Gurgling!

Slowly, Su Qignian's bones also became transparent, revealing the bright red marrow and blood flowing in the marrow sea, not quickly, but with a viscous feel, gurgling.

A fresh, fragrant aroma arose from his mouth, and Su Qignian couldn't help but swallow a mouthful of saliva, which was sweet like nectar.

Marrow blood brewing nectar!

Su Qignian's heart stirred. Bone marrow produces blood, and refining the marrow is equivalent to changing the blood, removing impurities from the body, naturally achieving a pure and unblemished body. The saliva's fragrance, like nectar, indicated that the refinement of the marrow had reached a certain level, considered a minor success.

At this point, Su Qignian looked at the seven men, each with a deathly pale face, their vital energy and blood severely depleted. It would take several days of careful cultivation to recover, and they could not go into the mountains to gather herbs.

With a thought, Su Qignian twisted the seven streams of fist power and countered them.

Puff! Puff!

The seven men were thrown back, each spitting out blood, though they looked more severely injured, their faces regained a bit of color.

"What exquisite control of force!"

The two brothers in the ninth thatched cottage gritted their teeth, almost cursing. They found it hard to believe that in just a month, such a near-rebirth transformation could occur.

The transparent body gradually regained its flesh color, and Su Qignian let out a long whistle, causing the air behind him to distort dramatically.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of hooves hitting the ground was heavy and oppressive, a fiery red horse with long mane and large hooves like bowls stepped out from the distorted air.

Its gaze was fierce, but behind Su Qignian, it appeared gentle. Its hooves moved lightly and gracefully, elegant yet powerful.

"Sweat blood, the Sweat Blood Horse!"

The surrounding suspended death sentence convicts were stunned, struggling to speak, and involuntarily stepped back.

Su Qignian's gaze was not fierce, nor was it the calmness that comes from experiencing the world. It was a kind of grand, bright, and open gaze.

Indeed, his gaze was open and honest, scanning the crowd, his spine straight, his black hair gently fluttering. Even though his dark green robe was not luxurious, far inferior to the silk and satin robes of many suspended death sentence convicts, in the eyes of the convicts, he had an undeniable aura, like sunlight illuminating darkness, revealing their inner filth, making it impossible to hide, every detail exposed.

Along the path cleared by the crowd, Su Qignian gradually moved away.

The owners of the thatched cottages by the lake, who had struggled to stand, looked at him and the horse with complex expressions.

"The horse's body is still somewhat illusory, but it has already taken on a divine form. It may not have a thousand pounds of strength, but it definitely has seven or eight hundred pounds."

"Does the young lord know something..."

Some of the suspended death sentence convicts whispered. After feeling ashamed, they could not help but envy. In the Free and Easy Valley, they yearned for foundation building more than any martial artist, walking the edge of life and death under the tiger-headed guillotine, unable to rest peacefully even at night.

They understood that, like Su Qignian, he might achieve the seventh level of the "Turtle Snake Technique" within a year, gaining the qualifications to attempt foundation building, opening the dantian, and nurturing internal true qi.

By the lakeside.

Jingdu Daoist looked at the young man before him, his beard seemingly combed, no longer as thick.

Without saying much, Su Qignian bowed to the Daoist.

Waving his hand, Jingdu Daoist turned and left, walking some distance before a faint voice echoed, seemingly a poem, but not in proper meter, more like a song.

"The road ahead is a great wind, yin and yang are dogs, nine layers of earth, life and death, no turning back..."

...

"Nine layers of earth, life and death, no turning back, nine layers of earth, life and death, no turning back..."

Walking in the deep mountains and old forests, Su Qignian softly recited, Jingdu Daoist's song was filled with tragedy and great passion, making Su Qignian even more unable to fathom this seemingly rough Daoist, whose subtle thoughts were often hard to grasp.

Green Sheep Peak.

Returning to the mountain, Su Qignian took the proper mountain path. The winding path showed smooth stone surfaces and broken branches, clearly someone had cleared it beforehand.

The Green Sheep Stream, the stone path leading down the stream had marks of knives and axes, carved into simple steps, the moss removed, making it much more stable than before.

Some broken stones and weeds were piled outside the palace gate. Su Qignian stood before the Green Sheep Palace, looking up at the plaque inscribed by the first Green Sheep Palace master, which had been cleaned with clear water. Though full of cracks, the three characters "Green Sheep Palace" were clearly visible.

"What excellent calligraphy! What a heavy aura of metal and stone!"

Seeing the three characters, Su Qignian couldn't help but exclaim. He was a scholar, with the wisdom of sages in his heart, having practiced calligraphy since childhood. He believed that after fifteen years of reading and writing, his brushwork had some meaning, but compared to the three characters "Green Sheep Palace," it was like a dwarf standing next to a giant, the essence and spirit not on the same level.

"The master of a peak, a person who has attained the Dao of the primordial spirit, has a different level of understanding of the world and the operation of the Dao. Such a person is undoubtedly a great scholar, where reason suppresses power, and power upholds righteousness. It's impossible for there to be a great hero who doesn't know characters, as seen in some martial hero biographies from the past; they can only be called warriors."

Su Qignian sighed, even capturing the subtle sharpness in the brushstrokes of the three characters on the plaque, clearly left by the first peak master, whose martial arts were profound, leaving his will in the characters, which had not been completely eroded by time, even after thousands of years.

Entering the Green Sheep Palace, Su Qignian couldn't help but laugh, as Fat Qingye, wearing a large white cloth on his head, holding a long-handled broom, and with his Daoist robe tied around his waist, revealing a white inner layer, was clearing weeds and dirt, covered in dust, sweating, and cursing.

"Damn miscellaneous service room, that old bastard Jinghe! Jing his grandmother's river! Soak the river! Soak the pig pen!"

Not far away, Qingyu wiped the sweat from his forehead, shaking his head and smiling bitterly, saying, "It seems it's not as simple as we thought."

Taking a broom, Su Qignian joined in.

Stepping on a few weeds that had escaped the net, Su Qignian said, "The miscellaneous service room is unwilling to send people."

Brushing off a piece of dirt from his Daoist robe, Qingyu said in a deep voice, "Each peak has its own land and income. To use people from the miscellaneous service room, we need to pay money. Alternatively, we can establish our own miscellaneous service room on Green Sheep Peak, recruiting outer court disciples who have passed the age limit to serve and be at our disposal." (I'm quite satisfied with this chapter, and it took longer than expected, but it feels great. Yes, as usual, I'm asking for votes and favorites.)