16: Flowing Shadow Sword Technique

The Azure Abyssal Boat slowly descended onto the plaza in front of the Sect's Shang Gong Hall.

Elder Xuan Yue was expressionless. He gave a few brief instructions to the Shang Gong Hall deacon who had hurried over upon hearing the news, then transformed into a stream of light and vanished into the horizon, presumably to report directly to the higher-ups.

Lin Feng followed the other survivors and was led by the deacon to a secret chamber within the side hall.

The room was dim, with flickering light casting the face of the deacon Disciple opposite him in shadow.

"Name, occupation, briefly describe the attack, and what you saw and heard." The deacon Disciple didn't even look up, his brush tip hovering over a Jade Slip.

It was Lin Feng's turn.

He lowered his eyes slightly, his voice low: "Utility Disciple, Lin Feng, belonging to the Spirit Pill Pavilion."

He paused, "...It was very chaotic at the time, firelight, ice spikes... people were everywhere... I pulled Third Brother Wang and ran outside...

A person wearing Chiyan Sect clothing chased after us and swung a blade to hack...

I... I couldn't dodge, so I grabbed a stone and smashed it randomly into his face...

He cried out and fell... I was exhausted, my vision went black, and when I woke up... I started cleaning up the battlefield."

The deacon Disciple's brush didn't stop, scribbling a few notes: "Fought, injured enemy, exhausted and fainted," then waved his hand to let him leave.

No one cared about the details of a Menial Servant's life or death.

A few days later, Lin Feng arrived at the Menial Servant courtyard, where Steward Han had asked him to pick up a newcomer.

Seven or eight sallow-faced, skinny youths wearing ill-fitting Menial Servant uniforms stood in the courtyard, at a loss, listening to an Outer Sect Disciple lecturing them impatiently.

Lin Feng leaned against a pillar and watched.

'Just like chives in the field; cut one crop, and another will grow soon enough.'

He felt no ripples in his heart. He didn't know how many people outside were breaking their heads trying to get in, even if it meant just wasting away here.

This morning, the on-duty Outer Sect Disciple pointed at the bronze medicine-quenching tripod in the corner: "Lin Feng, move this to the No. 3 Pill Room in the East Wing."

The tripod was pitch black, with dried medicinal residue still stuck to the rim.

Lin Feng remembered clearly that when he moved it last month, he had to steady his horse stance, wrap his arms around it, and strain until his face was red and his neck thick before he could budge it, leaving his arms sore and him panting for breath after the trip.

He didn't speak, walked up to the tripod, gripped the handles with both hands, took a deep breath, tightened his waist and abdomen, and lifted it upward.

Huh?

The heavy, pulling sensation he expected didn't fully arrive.

The muscles in his arms tightened instantly, and a warm current of Qi surged up from his lower abdomen, pouring into his arms.

The tripod body lifted a foot off the ground in response.

The weight was still there, pressing down on his elbows, but it was no longer that uncontrollable feeling that felt like it would tear his muscles and bones apart.

He could even adjust his center of gravity and walk toward the East Wing.

His footsteps felt much steadier on the ground.

'My strength has indeed increased...' He looked down at the clear muscle definition on his forearms, 'That force in my Dantian seems more obedient now.'

He used the contribution points he exchanged for with the lives of his fellow Disciples to trade for a "Flowing Shadow Sword Art" from the Myriad Laws Pavilion.

He also emptied his Spirit Stones to buy a remnant of a movement technique manual, "Willow Catkin Following Wind Step," at the Sect market.

From then on, whenever the moonlight climbed over the hilltop, the pile of rocks behind the side hall became his place for practicing.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

The ironwood sword cut through the night wind with short, sharp sounds.

He repeatedly practiced straight thrusts, diagonal slashes, and blocks, his movements gradually smoothing out from stiffness, the sword blade carving blurry silver lines in the moonlight.

He practiced his footwork, retreating and dodging, his figure moving among the strange rocks, causing dead leaves to swirl.

Sweat quickly soaked through his coarse cloth clothes, sticking to his back, hair from his forehead clinging to his skin, his breathing exceptionally clear in the silent night.

One night, as he was concentrating on how to channel his Qi into his feet, a voice suddenly came from the rock behind him:

"Let the Qi sink down, like tree roots anchoring into the soil.

The force must be alive, flowing past like water.

Don't force it."

Lin Feng was startled, stopped his movements, and turned around, his heart pounding like a drum.

Sun Hao was sitting there, who knows since when, one leg bent, his arm resting on his knee. The moonlight made his face look a bit pale, but his eyes were bright and clear.

"Senior Brother Sun." Lin Feng quickly put away his sword and saluted.

Sun Hao jumped down, walked a few steps closer, and his gaze swept over his sword and feet.

"You've been practicing for a few days; you have the form, but the essence is still lacking."

He extended two fingers and gestured toward his wrist and ankle,

"Here, it's stiff and blocked. Here, the Qi is scattered and not contained. Flowing Shadow emphasizes the word 'Flow'; the force must be continuous. The Willow Catkin borrows the wind; it doesn't just drift about aimlessly."

His few words were like clearing away the fog.

Lin Feng silently adjusted his breathing and moved again; sure enough, he felt the sword was lighter, and his footsteps were a bit smoother.

Later, Sun Hao would occasionally come to the Spirit Pill Pavilion to check on him when he had free time.

Sometimes standing far away, sometimes saying a word or two.

His words were few, but they always hit the key points.

"Cultivation is the root, technique is the application. Both are indispensable." Once, after saying this, the moonlight shone on his profile,

"Your Heart-Nature is quite steady. Reach the Fourth Level of Qi Refining early; only when your spiritual power is sufficient can you be considered to have truly entered the gate. Perhaps then you might amount to something." After saying this, he left.

These words were flat and ordinary, yet they made Lin Feng's heart tighten.

But Steward Han didn't let him off. He called Lin Feng into his room several times. Once the door closed, the sounds from outside faded.

"Lin Feng," Steward Han sank into his chair, tapping his fingers on the table, his face piled with smiles,

"That trip to the Black Abyss Forest was truly suffering.

It seems that ancient Pill Formula of yours really has some merit. You've already reached the Qi Refining Third Layer?

Hehe, when will you bring it out and let your Senior Brother take a look? Rest assured, I won't treat you unfairly."

Lin Feng could only lower his eyes, staring at the mud on his shoe tips: "Deacon, please be discerning. That formula is severely damaged. This Disciple is foolish; I've pondered it day and night, but there are still many parts that feel like they are separated by fog. I truly dare not bring it out and embarrass myself..."

Steward Han suddenly darkened his face and leaned forward:

"Don't think that just because Senior Brother Sun praised you a few times, you can forget your status. A Menial Servant is just a Menial Servant.

That Pill Formula is not something you should be hoarding. Hand it over, and it will be good for everyone! Otherwise..."

Every time he finished dealing with him, Lin Feng's back would be covered in a layer of cold sweat.

What made him even more anxious was that the qi condensing pill he had previously taken, which made his whole body hot, now dissolved, but the heat could no longer enter his Dantian, dissipating into his body shortly after.

In his restlessness, he suddenly missed Ye Yuner terribly.

Since returning from his narrow escape in the Black Abyss Forest, he had been buried in Cultivation and dealing with various troubles, and hadn't gone to see her yet.

Taking advantage of the night, he took a detour to the herb garden cottage.

"Yuner." He called out softly.

Ye Yuner opened the door, looked at Lin Feng, and her eyes instantly turned red:

"Senior Brother Lin. You... it's so good that you're okay.

Third Brother Wang came back a few days ago, looking soul-less, and told me... told me about the Black Abyss Forest...

He said many people died, he said you also..."

She choked up and couldn't continue, only looking Lin Feng up and down.

Lin Feng felt a pang in his heart. That big-mouthed Third Brother Wang had indeed told her the tragic details; he was afraid he had scared her.

"I'm fine, just suffered a small injury, it's already healed." He tried his best to make his tone relaxed, "Look, aren't I perfectly fine?"

Ye Yuner sniffed, her eyes still red: "In the future... in the future, don't take such dangerous missions again. If the contribution points are fewer, so be it, we can save up slowly..."

Lin Feng smiled but didn't respond to this.

How could he avoid danger just by saying he wouldn't touch it?