21: Chapter 21 Frost Order

Three days later, deep in the rocky cave.

Torches were stuck into cracks in the stone, their flickering light casting dancing shadows against the four walls.

The chill had not yet fully dissipated, and a thin layer of white frost coated the ground, crunching underfoot.

Lu Zhao squatted before a stone slab.

That deep blue crystal was embedded quietly in the center, its surface spiderwebbed with dense cracks, and an obscure golden light flickered in and out, like breathing.

Ancient aura leaked out in wisps from the fissures, mixing with the Evil Qi, creating a sense of vast, heavy antiquity.

He Shan stood guard at the cave entrance holding a hunting knife, while Yan Meng held a temporarily sharpened wooden spear; both held their breath extremely low.

"Sir, this thing..." He Shan stared at the crystal, his Adam's apple bobbing, "looks wicked."

Lu Zhao did not answer.

He extended his right index finger, hovering it three inches above the crystal, and slowly reached down.

The moment his fingertip touched the crystal's surface, an icy, bone-chilling cold rushed up his finger, straight to his Spirit Platform!

Deep in his Spirit Platform, that Martial Seal stone suddenly trembled.

It was not heating up, but cooling slightly—as if it had encountered something of the same origin, sensing each other.

Lu Zhao's pupils constricted slightly.

Just then, the crystal emitted a crisp "crack," and the cracks suddenly expanded! Dark golden light surged out from the fissures like flowing water, actually condensing into a faint ancient seal script in mid-air, which vanished in a flash.

The moment the rune dissipated, the crystal shattered completely into two halves.

In the center lay a thumb-sized, dark golden metal fragment, irregular in shape, its edges appearing as if torn by immense force, and its surface covered in fine, dense patterns.

Those patterns were not carved; they seemed natural, vaguely forming some mysterious trajectory.

Lu Zhao picked up the fragment.

It felt warm and smooth to the touch, without a hint of chill; instead, a warmth seeped into his palm.

Looking closely, light seemed to flow slowly deep within the patterns, like a flowing galaxy.

"This is..." Yan Meng leaned in half a step.

"I don't know." Lu Zhao shook his head, holding the fragment in his palm, "But it is definitely not a common object."

Before he finished speaking, his Spirit Platform suddenly cleared.

In a flash of inspiration, a fragmented message flooded his mind—not as clear and distinct as the heart of the martial ancestor, but like an echo coming from across the ages, vague and intermittent:

"Suppress... Evil... Seal... Devil... Martial... Monument..."

Only these six words, then silence.

Lu Zhao felt a violent shock in his heart.

Martial Monument?

He suddenly remembered that day when he suppressed the evil spirit, in the golden light bloomed by the Martial Seal stone, a towering stone monument had vaguely appeared. He had thought it was a hallucination at the time, but now it seemed...

"Sir!" He Shan suddenly whispered urgently.

Almost simultaneously, A-Fei's extremely low voice came from outside the cave: "Someone is here! Three people are coming up the mountain path, wearing Qinglan Sect robes!"

Lu Zhao's eyes sharpened.

He quickly stuffed the two halves of the crystal remains and the metal fragment into the leather pouch in his bosom. When he stood up, he grabbed a handful of loose stones scattered in the cave, sprinkled them over the spot where the crystal had been, and wiped away the marks with the sole of his boot.

"Let's go."

The three extinguished the torch and flashed out of the cave.

Lu Zhao was the last to leave; he slapped the stone wall above the entrance with his backhand, shaking down a patch of gravel and dust, obscuring most of the entrance.

Just as they retreated into the bushes outside the cave, they heard footsteps coming up the mountain path.

Three figures arrived through the morning mist.

The leader was about forty years old, clean-shaven, wearing the standard blue robes of the Qinglan Sect, with a sheathed long sword hanging at his waist.

His pace was unhurried, and with every step he took, the fallen leaves under his feet made not a sound. His breath was long and restrained; he was clearly a Cultivator at the Middle Stage of Qi Refining.

Behind him followed two young Disciples, both around the first layer of Qi Refining, their expressions respectful.

The middle-aged Cultivator walked near the cave and stopped.

He raised his eyes to scan the surroundings, his gaze like a knife, pausing for a brief moment as it swept over the bushes.

Lu Zhao held his breath, feeling as if that gaze had substance, scraping his cheeks painfully.

"Junior Martial Uncle Zhao, this is the place." A Disciple stepped forward, pointing towards the cave, "The pillar of Evil Qi shot into the sky from here the day before yesterday, lasting about half an incense stick of time."

Zhao Yuankun—who was a Deacon of the Qinglan Sect—nodded slightly.

He walked slowly towards the cave, stopped in front of the partially covered entrance, bent down to pick up a pinch of soil, twisted it between his fingertips, and brought it to his nose to sniff.

"The residual Evil Qi is very faint, but..." He raised his eyes to look deep into the cave, "there was indeed an object of extreme Yin."

The other Disciple said: "Uncle-Master, should we go in and investigate?"

Zhao Yuankun shook his head.

"No need." He straightened up, brushed the dust from his hands, "The Evil Qi has already dissipated; that object was either taken away or destroyed itself. Going in would be a waste of effort."

He turned around, his gaze falling back onto the bushes.

"However, in this vicinity..." He suddenly raised his voice, "the few friends hiding here, you may come out now."

In the bushes, Lu Zhao's heart sank.

He Shan gripped his hunting knife, and Yan Meng slightly raised his wooden spear. Lu Zhao pressed his hand down, signaling the two not to move, and took a deep breath, parted the branches, and walked out slowly.

"Junior Lu Zhao greets the Immortal Master."

He cupped his fists in salute, his expression respectful but not servile.

Zhao Yuankun looked him over and said indifferently: "You are that Lu Zhao from Yangjiao Ravine?"

"Yes."

"I heard you have no Spiritual Root, yet you were able to kill the bandit leader Boss Wu of the Funiu Gang?" Zhao Yuankun's tone was flat, revealing no joy or anger.

Lu Zhao lowered his head: "Just luck. The bandit leader underestimated me and was injured by a trap set by this Junior, which gave me an opportunity."

"A trap?" Zhao Yuankun raised an eyebrow, "What kind of trap can injure a third-layer Qi Refining Cultivator?"

"Poisonous miasma, tripwires, falling rocks." Lu Zhao answered fluently, "This Junior has followed the village hunters into the mountains since childhood and learned some crude methods."

Zhao Yuankun stared at him, then suddenly said: "Raise your head."

Lu Zhao obeyed and looked up, his gaze calm.

Their eyes met.

A trace of surprise flashed in Zhao Yuankun's eyes.

This youth's eyes were clear and firm. Facing him, a Middle Stage Cultivator of Qi Refining, there was not a hint of fear or panic; instead, there was a sense of... deep, placid stillness.

"What is that bulging object in your bosom?" Zhao Yuankun suddenly asked.

Lu Zhao's heart jumped, but his face remained calm: "It is some medicinal herbs from the mountains, prepared to be taken back to the village for Granny Xue to process."

"Oh?" Zhao Yuankun walked closer slowly, "Take it out and let me see."

He Shan and Yan Meng walked out of the bushes, guarding Lu Zhao on both sides, their expressions guarded. The two Qinglan Disciples immediately stepped forward, hands on their sword hilts.

The atmosphere tightened abruptly.

Lu Zhao smiled slightly, reached into his bosom, took out the leather pouch, untied the string, and poured out several dried herbs—these were perilla and astragalus he had casually put in while picking herbs the day before.

"Immortal Master, please look."

Zhao Yuankun glanced at them, but his gaze fell on another slightly bulging place in his bosom.

"Anything else?"

Lu Zhao's expression did not change, and he took out another object from his bosom.

—It was that Xuanshuang Sect Punishment Hall Token.

The token gleamed with a dark, mysterious color in the morning light, the ice flower totem clearly visible, and on the back, the character "Punishment" was written with iron-drawn silver hooks, exuding a chilling cold.

Zhao Yuankun's pupils contracted sharply!

"Xuanshuang Token?!" His voice turned suddenly cold, "How did you obtain this item?"

The two Disciples' expressions changed drastically, and they simultaneously drew their swords half an inch, the cold light gleaming.

Holding the token, Lu Zhao said slowly: "Three days ago, a knight from the Xuanshuang Sect sent it to the village. He said this Junior had merit in suppressing evil, so previous crimes could be pardoned, but the fifty Spirit Stone fine and the three-month deadline remained unchanged. He ordered this Junior to take this token and report to the Xuanshuang Branch in He Shan City within three months."

"Previous crimes?" Zhao Yuankun stared at him, "What previous crimes?"

Lu Zhao was silent for a moment, his voice lowering: "When this Junior was sixteen, I went to He Shan City for a Spiritual Root test. At that time, Xuanshuang Sect Deacon Wang Tong determined that my Aptitude was low, destroyed my Spiritual Root, and threw me off a cliff."

He raised his head, his gaze as calm as an ancient well.

"This Junior had a strong life, caught on a tree on the cliff wall, and luckily survived. Later, I drifted here and was taken in by the villagers of Yangjiao Ravine."

A look of doubt flashed in Zhao Yuankun's eyes: "Why would Deacon Wang Tong destroy your Spiritual Root?"

"This Junior does not know." Lu Zhao shook his head, "At that time, the spirit-testing stone only lit up with a faint light, and Deacon Wang said 'Such Aptitude is a waste of Spirit Stones,' and casually struck my Dantian with one palm. Before this Junior lost consciousness, I only heard him say... 'If you want to blame someone, blame your bad luck'."

This was half true and half false.

The test was true, the destruction was true, and the fall was true. Only Wang Tong's words were fabricated—but given Wang Tong's arrogance and ruthlessness back then, saying such things would not be out of character at all.

Zhao Yuankun frowned deeply.

He certainly knew Wang Tong. A Punishment Hall Deacon of the Xuanshuang Sect, at the sixth layer of Qi Refining, with a perverse temperament, who had quite a reputation in the He Shan area. If one said he would act ruthlessly because the person being tested had low Aptitude... it was truly possible.

"Then how did you kill Boss Wu?" Zhao Yuankun pressed, "A person with a destroyed Spiritual Root, how can you contend with a third-layer Qi Refining Cultivator?"

Before Lu Zhao could answer, He Shan suddenly stepped forward half a step and said in a deep voice: "Immortal Master, please witness! That day Boss Wu led bandits to attack the village; Mr. Lu fought to the death to protect the villagers. Although Mr. Lu has no Spiritual Root, he has practiced martial arts since childhood, his physical skills are naturally more agile than ordinary people, and he is familiar with the terrain, that is how he was able to defeat the strong with the weak!"

Yan Meng also said, "We can all bear witness. The Master's daily conduct is upright; he teaches the young and strong in the village some martial arts for strengthening the body, and has never done anything strange or evil."

Zhao Yuankun swept his gaze over the two, seeing He Shan's tiger-like eyes were frank and open, and Yan Meng's expression was solemn; it did not seem like a pretense.

He pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, "What kind of martial arts do you Cultivate?"

Lu Zhao's mind raced.

This question could not be avoided. After a moment of thought, he answered calmly, "It is a Qi-nurturing technique passed down from my ancestors, called the 'Qi-Nurturing and Breath-Regulating Manual'. Those without a Spiritual Root can Cultivate it to strengthen the body and prolong life."

"Bring it for me to see."

Lu Zhao took a roll of animal skin from his bosom—it was the most basic breathing formula for the "Nine Yang Divine Skill" that he had hastily written down from memory last night, involving only breathing, exhalation, and the circulation of blood and Qi, without involving any methods of cultivating True Qi.

Zhao Yuankun took it and unfolded it to examine it closely.

The handwriting on the animal skin was neat, and the content was indeed shallow. It only talked about how to guide blood and Qi through breathing, warm and nourish the five internal organs, and clear the meridians; the entire text did not contain a single sentence involving drawing Spiritual Qi into the body or refining Spiritual Qi.

He read it for a long while, and his brows gradually relaxed.

This technique was indeed upright and peaceful; although shallow, it had not a shred of evil aura. As for saying that one could kill Boss Wu with this... it was absolutely impossible.

But if combined with terrain, traps, and poisonous miasma, there was indeed a slight chance.

Zhao Yuankun closed the animal skin and tossed it back to Lu Zhao.

"The technique is acceptable," he said indifferently, "but you carry the Xuanshuang Sect Order; this matter is no small thing. Although the Xuanshuang Sect and my Qinglan Sect have no great enmity, we are not exactly on good terms either. Since you are under their supervision and are located within my Qinglan Sect's jurisdiction..."

He paused, a look of contemplation flashing in his eyes.

Lu Zhao lowered his head, "This Junior only seeks to settle down in Yangjiao Ravine, protect the fellow villagers, and has no other thoughts."

"Settle down?" Zhao Yuankun suddenly sneered, "Do you know that once the Xuanshuang Sect's Punishment Hall Order is issued, it is like wearing shackles? Once the three-month deadline arrives, if you cannot pay fifty Spirit Stones, it will be considered the crime of desertion. By then, with the Xuanshuang Sect's pursuit order issued, let alone your village, even the entire Black Mountain will have no place for you to hide!"

Lu Zhao's knuckles turned slightly white, but he remained calm, "This Junior knows."

"And you still dared to accept the order knowing that?"

"If I didn't accept it, I would have died on the spot," Lu Zhao raised his eyes, "If I accepted it, I still have three months."

Zhao Yuankun stared at him for a long while, then suddenly let out a long sigh.

"Forget it," he waved his hand, "My Qinglan Sect is not in a position to intervene in your feud with the Xuanshuang Sect. But one thing must be made clear—"

His voice turned cold.

"Yangjiao Ravine is located at the southern foot of Black Mountain and is nominally under the jurisdiction of the Qinglan Sect. Since you are establishing yourself here, you must abide by the rules of my Qinglan Sect."

Lu Zhao's heart sank slightly, "Please speak, Immortal Master."

"First, you must not collude with evil Cultivators or bandits. Second, you must not privately mine or gather herbs beyond the quota. Third..." Zhao Yuankun's gaze was like lightning, "The martial arts practiced by the young and strong in your village must be reported to my Qinglan Sect; you must not privately transmit Qi Refining techniques."

He paused and added, "Of course, your 'Qi-Nurturing and Breath-Regulating Manual' is very shallow, so reporting it can be exempted. But if you obtain other techniques in the future, you must report them."

Lu Zhao bowed, "This Junior will obey."

Zhao Yuankun nodded with satisfaction, but then said, "Furthermore, although the Funiu Gang bandits have been wiped out, the stolen goods they obtained from plundering must be turned over to the Sect for inventory."

This was to take a share.

Lu Zhao understood in his heart, but his face showed difficulty, "Immortal Master, the Storage Pouch of the bandit leader Boss Wu has already been taken by that knight from the Xuanshuang Sect. In the village, we only found some weapons and silver money..."

"Weapons and silver money are also stolen goods," Zhao Yuankun said unquestioningly, "Turn them all in."

Lu Zhao was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Immortal Master, those weapons are mostly cast from ordinary iron, and the silver money is no more than a hundred taels. This Junior is willing to offer it all, only asking the Immortal Master for one thing—"

"Speak."

"Although the Funiu Gang has been destroyed, there may be remnants that escaped the net. This Junior dares to ask if the Immortal Master could send people to clear out the remaining bandits after returning to the Sect, to eliminate future troubles," Lu Zhao said sincerely, "Only then can Yangjiao Ravine truly be at peace."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yuankun's expression cleared up slightly.

This youth was quite sensible.

Voluntarily offering the spoils and making such a request not only preserved the Sect's face but also appeared to be considering the big picture.

"Very well," he nodded, "This matter was already in the Sect's plan. Those weapons and silver money will be considered a reward for your village's assistance in clearing the bandits."

These words were spoken beautifully. It was clearly extortion, yet it became a reward.

Lu Zhao, however, seemed completely unaware, bowing and saying, "Thank you, Immortal Master."

Zhao Yuankun said no more and turned to leave. After walking a few steps, he suddenly turned back, his gaze falling on Lu Zhao's face.

"Lu Zhao."

"This Junior is here."

"Rules are rules," Zhao Yuankun's voice was calm, but every word was like a hammer, "Without a Spiritual Root, one is a lower-class person. That you have lived until today is luck. But luck... will not always follow you."

He paused.

"Take care of yourself."

With a flick of his green robes, the three drifted away, disappearing at the end of the mountain path in the blink of an eye.

Lu Zhao stood alone in place, clutching that Xuanshuang Sect Order, his knuckles turning white.

The morning breeze blew past, stirring up withered leaves that swirled and landed at his feet.

He Shan stepped forward and whispered, "Master, this Qinglan Sect..."

"They are the same," Lu Zhao interrupted him, putting the token into his bosom, "The Xuanshuang Sect oppresses openly, while the Qinglan Sect sucks blood in secret. In the end, in their eyes, those without Spiritual Roots are all ants; the only difference is... whether they are crushed to death, or raised to have their blood slowly drained."

Yan Meng frowned, "Then we..."

"Do what we should do," Lu Zhao turned and looked toward the direction of Yangjiao Ravine, "It's just that from today on, we must be more careful."

The three walked down the mountain along the small path.

Halfway there, He Shan suddenly said, "Master, that Zhao Yuankun just said he would clear out the remaining bandits, will he..."

"He won't," Lu Zhao shook his head, "Since he has accepted the 'reward', he will just put on a show, send a few Disciples to circle around the mountain a few times, kill a few straggling bandits, and go back to report the task done. He is too lazy to waste effort on the real remnants."

Yan Meng spat, "These people from the Immortal Sects, every one of them is sanctimonious!"

Lu Zhao, however, smiled, "It is better that they are sanctimonious. If they were truly unscrupulous Devil Heads, it would be harder for us to handle."

He did not stop walking, but his mind was pondering.

Zhao Yuankun came today ostensibly to investigate the Evil Qi pillar, but in reality, he took the opportunity to warn us. The Qinglan Sect has already taken notice of Yangjiao Ravine; in the future, we must act more discreetly.

And that metal fragment...

He touched the leather pouch in his bosom; the warm and smooth touch was still there.

A fragment of the Martial Stele?

If it is truly related to the heart of the martial ancestor, then the waters of this world are likely deeper than he imagined.

While he was pondering, he had already reached the village entrance.

A-Fei ran over, his expression anxious, "Master! Han Meng has woken up and says he has an important matter to report!"

Lu Zhao's eyes narrowed, "Lead the way."

In the side room of the ancestral hall, Han Meng was leaning on a straw mat. His face was still pale, but there was already spirit in his eyes.

Seeing Lu Zhao enter, he struggled to rise.

"No need," Lu Zhao held him down, "What is it?"

Han Meng took a deep breath and looked at Lu Zhao, his gaze complex.

A moment later, he suddenly rolled off the bed, knelt on one knee, and cupped his fists, saying in a deep voice:

"This life of Han Meng was saved by the Master. From today on, I am willing to serve to the death, and will follow your orders!"

Lu Zhao did not move, just looked at him, "Have you thought it through?"

"I have thought it through," Han Meng raised his head, "I, Han Meng, have been a bandit for half my life, killing and looting, doing every evil deed. I originally thought I would just rot to the end in this life, and if I died and fed the wild dogs, it would be retribution. But that day, the Master could clearly have killed me, yet you spared my life and even had people treat my injuries..."

His voice was slightly hoarse.

"My cheap life is not worth much. But if the Master wants it, you can take it at any time. Before that, Han Meng is willing to be the Master's vanguard; through mountains of blades and seas of fire, I will not even frown!"

Lu Zhao stared at him for a long while, then slowly reached out and helped him up.

"Since you have entered this door, you are a brother," his voice was calm, "But I must clarify one thing—is it me, Lu Zhao, that you are loyal to, or the forty-seven people of Yangjiao Ravine?"

Han Meng was startled, then straightened his expression, "It is the Master, and also every single elder and fellow in this village!"

"Good," Lu Zhao nodded, "Then from today on, you are a member of my Yangjiao Ravine. Past matters will be treated as bygones. But if there is any betrayal in the future..."

"Han Meng is willing to suffer a thousand cuts!"

Lu Zhao said no more, only saying, "You said just now that you had an important matter?"

Han Meng's expression became serious, and he lowered his voice, "Yes. But this matter... must be told to the Master first."

A trace of struggle flashed in his eyes.

"Behind the Funiu Gang, there is someone else."

Han Meng's voice was even lower, "Thirty percent of what Boss Wu plundered every year had to be turned over to the Liu Family of Black Mountain City. The Liu Family manager, Liu Three-Knives, secretly sent word half a month ago, saying that Yangjiao Ravine had been 'not peaceful' recently, and told Boss Wu to 'test the waters'. I suspect... this village raid was originally the Liu Family's plot to kill with a borrowed knife!"