Once the secret technique began, the cauldron boiled silently.
The death qi of Yellow Spring Burial, the cold nature of the immortal herbs, and the aura of nirvana from Lu Yuan’s blood of the auspicious beast mingled within the spiritual fire, sinking bit by bit into Xiaoxiao’s small physical body.
Xiaoxiao feared neither cold nor heat.
However, as the three types of auras continued their relentless invasion, the innate yin qi within his acupoints gradually began to awaken.
It rampaged through his body.
It attempted to break free from its shackles, only to be imprisoned by several external forces, seeking a freedom it could not obtain.
Several types of extreme cold collided with one another.
Yao Xiaoxiao’s body seemed to evolve into a battlefield at this moment.
The cold energies vied, fought, and suppressed each other, while simultaneously reconstructing Yao Xiaoxiao’s physical body with extremely minute progress.
Bones shattered.
Skin split.
Blood dried up, solidified, and then boiled...
These scenes played out in cycles.
Agony filled every moment. Yao Xiaoxiao fainted several times, only to be startled awake an instant later.
Over and over again...
Over and over again...
Once Lu Yuan finished the bloodletting, a flash of bloody light flickered in his eyes, and the open wound healed rapidly.
He acted as if nothing had happened, landing on a decorative rock beside the cauldron.
His discarded clothes flew back to him. He draped them over his shoulders and sat there in a crouch, silent.
His expression remained cold and stern.
His complexion stayed ruddy.
It was as if giving up half a cauldron of essence blood had no effect on him at all, no different from taking a leak.
Xu Xian only stole a glance, but he could not hide the shock in his heart.
During their long talk last night, Lu Yuan had immediately identified the core of Xu Xian’s plan.
He asked if Xu Xian intended to use the sword aura from that sword of death to nourish Yao Xiaoxiao’s body.
He also said that if Xu Xian used his blood to nourish the boy simultaneously alongside the original plan, it would allow Yao Xiaoxiao’s constitution to reach a higher level.
The prerequisite was that the pain would be doubled, and Yao Xiaoxiao had to be able to endure it.
He also remarked that the pain of shedding one's mortal coil was already beyond the endurance of living beings. Once it reached that level, a little more or a little less pain didn't really matter and could be ignored.
When Xu Xian asked why his blood had such an effect, Lu Yuan asked him in return if he knew why he was born in the Demon Suppression Abyss and nowhere else.
Xu Xian thought of the intensifying slaughter in the Demon Suppression Abyss over the last four years and, combined with the meaning in Lu Yuan’s words, he made a guess and laid it all out.
Lu Yuan did not deny it.
He said that in the Demon Suppression Abyss, humans and demons had fought for thousands of years. Too much blood from both races had been spilled across those three thousand miles of mountains and rivers. Especially in recent years, the dying had intensified, and the blood spilled had become even more abundant.
The blood of those humans and demons had nourished that land for many years.
He eventually glimpsed a spark of life at a certain point in time and was born into the world.
He also said that he wasn't originally blood-colored, nor were his eyes red. He had simply been soaked in that blood-drenched land for too long, so he became a blood deer.
Similarly, the power of nirvana had germinated within his bloodline.
What was nirvana?
It was death.
Endless desolation.
Yet, deer blood was naturally yang in nature and highly tonifying; consuming it would cause unbearable heat. The two states coexisted, mutually generating and restraining each other. While this wasn't what he desired, it wasn't useless—at the very least, it could nourish Yao Xiaoxiao’s physical body.
Xu Xian did not press for details.
Lu Yuan’s background and origins were already confusing and shrouded in mystery.
Since he was unwilling to speak, Xu Xian didn't ask. Like his senior sister and brothers, he felt that everyone should have their own secrets.
He was only worried if the boy could hold out, as the process would be very long.
At the time, Lu Yuan had said nonchalantly, 'I am a blood deer. When have you ever heard of a blood deer lacking blood?'
Xu Xian had thought he was just acting cool.
Now it seemed he had been the shallow one.
He didn't dwell on it. After briefly pulling his thoughts back, he continued to maintain the spiritual fire and the Yellow Spring Burial.
Everything is hard at the beginning.
In the early stages of this matter, Xu Xian needed to invest a massive amount of energy to maintain it.
Outside the Baicao Garden, Elder Yao personally stood guard outside the gorge, forbidding anyone from approaching, his face full of worry.
Inside the Baicao Garden, Yao Xiaoxiao’s pain continued to surge...
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
Four days...
The fire never ceased for a single moment, the sword never returned to the pavilion for a second, and the youth never lost focus for a single breath.
The cauldron had turned pitch black, and the water within was shrouded in a swirling mist of black and red.
Xiaoxiao, within the cauldron, had long since become unrecognizable, his form impossible to discern clearly.
Every other day, Lu Yuan would release blood into the cauldron. Putting his clothes on and taking them off became too much of a hassle, so he simply sat there bare-chested.
His previous stubbornness eventually gave way to a withered and gaunt face. Despite claiming he wouldn't eat grass, he was forced to swallow and refine several immortal plants used for replenishing blood.
As for Xu Xian, his face—already pale and weary from his monthly bloodletting—became even paler over the course of these four days, like winter frost.
It was devoid of color.
His entire hovering body was thin and gaunt, like a withered branch covered in snow. It seemed that with just a little pressure, he would crumble into a thin mist.
He was also in great pain, yet he gritted his teeth and held on.
The Little Book spirit had said that as long as they made it through the first few days and allowed the various auras in the cauldron to neutralize each other—eventually forcing the yin qi to compromise—he would no longer need to maintain the suppression of the yin qi every single moment.
Even a little girl like Shuer was persisting.
As a man, how could he say he couldn't do it at a time like this?
Lu Yuan would occasionally ask, "Can you hold on? If not, let me take over?"
Xu Xian remained silent, responding with wordless determination.
Say he couldn't? A man could never say he couldn't.
Days passed one by one. Five days, six days, seven days... ten days.
It wasn't until noon on the eleventh day that, under the Pupil of Insight, the several violent and unyielding cold auras finally reached a consensus at a certain moment, coexisting in peace.
Xu Xian finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The secret technique’s pill fire paused briefly.
The Yellow Spring Burial sword quietly returned to the tower.
He also descended to the ground, exhaling a mouthful of turbid air. He stiffly pulled out the strong liquor from his waist and took a swig.
With eyes staring blankly at the high cauldron, he murmured, "The rest depends on your own fortune."
The first stage was complete.
Next was the long wait of the second stage.
Xu Xian still needed to monitor the situation closely, but he no longer needed to use his spiritual power to maintain it at every moment. He only needed to use the Pupil of Insight to occasionally add some fire or take out the sword to release a bit of death qi.
Even Lu Yuan no longer needed to release blood every day.
This could be considered a successful small step forward.
The wait was long and cold, just like this winter.
Ten days of time passed like the flick of a finger, but the world outside the valley had already been turned upside down.
With the arrival of winter, snow led the charge.
The green mountains turned white, a scene of pure purity. The establishment of the Demon-Slaying Army led by Li Qingshan was nearing its end. Several batches of disciples had already headed to the banks of the Wild River.
The first batch was for defense.
The second batch was for construction.
The third batch was for transporting supplies...
With immortals wielding their brushes and ink, a city began to take shape amidst the ice and snow.
It was heard that many original demon hunters had voluntarily joined, providing free labor to participate in the construction of that city.
Wendao Sect also slowly returned to its normal tracks.
In the Central Plains, however, rumors were rife, and the atmosphere was one of restless clamor.
Yun Zheng and Xu Xian.
These two names frequently appeared on the streets. The battle in the East Desolation was also known to everyone.
Three parts truth, seven parts fabrication—everyone had their own version of the story.
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