Chapter Sixty-One: True Fiend Invades the Meridian (First Release Chapter—Seeking First Subscription and Monthly Votes!)

With a deafening crash, the world spun around Yun Qi as he was shaken senseless and plunged into a fissure in the earth. Swiftly glancing about, he found himself in a vast, boundless underground void, emptiness stretching as far as the eye could see. Below his feet yawned a bottomless abyss—no end in sight.

Within this immense and pitch-black cavern shimmered countless dazzling lights, some coalescing into clusters, others weaving into wisps, as though he were adrift in a sea of stars, or peering inward at the secret cosmos within the human frame.

Yun Qi could not tell if these were true malignant energies, mistaking them instead for long-accumulated miasmas that had taken form.

A harsh, sizzling sound erupted as the fiery robe enveloping Yun Qi came into contact with the caustic vapors of the pit, burning fiercely and shrieking with a piercing screech.

Yun Qi’s face changed. The poison here was fearsomely potent, and without the ability to draw breath for sustenance, the meager reserves of his spiritual power would not last long!

He hastily summoned the Dragon Chariot, collapsing onto it and halting his fall, then urged the clouds beneath him to surge upwards.

Yet, as the saying goes, “the wind rises from the faintest stir,” and deep within this abyss, subterranean fires abounded. The flickering heat rising above became a roaring gale, and Yun Qi, trying to soar out, found himself tossed like a willow catkin in a storm, utterly at the mercy of the winds no matter which way he turned.

Malignant energies swirled everywhere in the cavern; were the Red-Haired One or the Green-Robed One to behold this, they would have been overjoyed. But for Yun Qi, it was nothing less than a death sentence.

Soon enough, whipped by the raging winds, Yun Qi could only watch, powerless to dodge, as he collided with a mass of malignant force, resplendent and vast as a small mountain.

In that instant before the impact, Yun Qi could only manage to stow away his “Autumn Water” and the “Seal of Modest Diligence” into the Void Stone.

Whoosh! Like a candle flame in the wind, the fire robe surrounding Yun Qi was snuffed out in an instant.

Next, his garments vaporized—gone in a heartbeat.

A scream tore from his lips. The first sensation upon touching the malignant force was pain—a pain beyond all imagining, a torment beyond belief.

It was as though he had been flung into molten iron, his entire body scorched and burned, flesh searing in agony. His skin was incinerated in a blink; his long hair, reduced to dust in a flash. In scarcely a moment, the young Daoist was a figure of blood.

And that searing iron seemed to possess a thousandfold weight, forcing itself madly into his body, flooding his flesh, muscles, meridians, and every vital aperture.

Wracked by such torment, Yun Qi’s eyes blazed crimson in an instant.

In that moment, he lost the capacity for thought; even his consciousness seemed congealed by molten iron. All he could do was scream from instinct.

Yun Qi was unaware that this was known as “the Malignant Force Piercing the Apertures,” the most dangerous step in the process where a second-stage cultivator tempers themselves with the true force. In the alchemical tradition, this ordeal was called “Subduing the Dragon and Taming the Tiger.”

In orthodox inner alchemy, drawing this force into the body could only be attempted after years, even decades, of preparation—once the necessary malignant energy had been accumulated.

This force, born of the interplay between Heaven and Earth’s pure and turbid energies, was incredibly rare. It could erode clouds and stone, scour the human body and its vital apertures, yet for all its power, it was helpless against substances of lead and mercury.

Thus, Daoist practitioners would first seek out lead and mercury before attempting to harness the force. Once found, these elements would be refined with innumerable secret treasures in a process called “Blending Lead and Mercury.”

Having forged the true lead and mysterious mercury, they would then ingest it, refining it into their meridians. Once prepared, they would finally swallow the force, guiding the Dragon and Tiger along the path paved by lead and mercury to a point three inches below the navel—opening the second of the body’s three grand apertures, the Yellow Court, also known as the Dantian.

This was called “Ploughing the Court.”

But Yun Qi was only at the first stage, wholly unprepared. He had no lead or mercury, and so this was no careful ploughing—this was the malignant force ravaging every part of him.

In a mere instant, Yun Qi regained his senses. The ceaseless cultivation of his mind, day and night, now served him best; he tightened his focus, forcibly banishing all thought of pain, his mind bent solely on survival.

Turning his inner gaze to the hidden cosmos within, he saw clusters of light extinguish one by one, and seemed to hear the rush of water—the malignant force scouring through him, clogging and sealing every aperture. Yun Qi wondered, even if he survived, what use this body would be.

But there was no time for such thoughts. With the force blocking his apertures, there was no hope but to sacrifice the lesser for the sake of the greater.

Of the myriad apertures, three were paramount: the Purple Palace, seat of thought and spirit; the Scarlet Chamber, repository of vital blood; and the Yellow Court, the reservoir of the energies of Heaven and Earth.

He gave the Yellow Court no further thought—it was yet unopened and its blockage would not kill him.

The Scarlet Chamber, too, was unopened; all his vital blood was now focused in the Heart Aperture, which must not be compromised.

The Purple Palace was likewise unopened, yet his thoughts and will, though intangible, still depended on its support. Though he had never seen its true form, he knew the Purple Palace too must be defended.

His gaze fell upon the Twelve-Story Tower.

To safeguard the Heart Aperture, he must open the Heart Mansion at once! Only by enthroning the spirit within could he withstand the malignant force’s invasion.

As for the Purple Palace, he pondered—then thought of “Peach Capital.”

The old abbot once said that a flying sword was guided by will, and when not in use, it was nourished within the Purple Palace. He did not know the rank of “Peach Capital,” but previously, when he touched the sword with his mind, it had responded! A sword so attuned to him—might it enter his inner world and shield the Purple Palace?

He sent a strand of thought to the “Peach Capital” sword, which had followed closely by his side. But the malignant force quickly scattered that thought, severing its connection to his inner realm.

With a resounding clang, a clear sword cry rang out in Yun Qi’s inner world.

A colossal crimson sword, vast enough to blot out the sky, slowly entered that domain, stretching across it, bathing the dimming realm—darkened by blocked apertures—in light once again.

Yun Qi managed a faint smile. Not all was lost.

With a single thought, “Peach Capital” shrank and swept to the Purple Palace, circling the violet orb overhead, transforming into a fiery dragon-tornado to guard the palace.

He recalled how, when he had spewed out the Solar Bing Fire earlier, most had been devoured by “Peach Capital.” Sending another thought, the sword again responded; blazing flames, far more than Yun Qi had ever amassed, erupted from its blade.

With another mental command, the Daoist within his Throat Aperture, the “Yuandan Adept,” opened his eyes, rose from the Twelve-Story Tower, and strode forth.

Behind him trailed the True Samadhi Fire, drawn from countless mortal lamps—a mantle, a banner of flame.

The Adept soared from the tower, merging with the torrent of Bing Fire cascading from the Purple Palace, like a general mustering his troops—the Bing Fire followed close, storming toward the Heart Mansion, forging an unstoppable might.

Yun Qi watched from on high, as though surveying from the command dais.

The Heart Aperture glowed like a small sun suspended in his inner world.

Arriving at its gates, the Adept, sensing the urgency of his master, pointed his conjured peachwood sword; the Bing Fire and Samadhi Fire behind him merged into one, surging forward like a raging river, pouring into the Heart Aperture.

Yet the Heart Aperture was a bottomless abyss, an endless sea, swallowing the flood of flame without ever being sated.

Though only moments passed, Yun Qi’s anxiety was boundless—never had the phrase “burning with impatience” felt so apt. He allowed himself a wry smile—truly, he was being driven onto the field unprepared! Everything was so hasty!

Watching the orbs of light in his body flicker and go dark, Yun Qi was close to despair. Yet “Peach Capital” continued to spew forth Bing Fire, forming a blazing link between the Heart and the Purple Palace.

With nothing left to lose, Yun Qi steeled himself—if death awaited, he would fight it to the end.

Beside the Purple Palace, the Palace of Light began to descend, intricate and exquisite, following the fiery path toward the Heart Aperture.

Suddenly, the palace gates flew open, and the resplendent Marquis of the Rising Sun burst forth, striding on clouds toward the blazing Heart—while the fierce, bold Yuandan Adept cast himself into the fiery sphere.

(End of chapter)