Chapter 17: The Blood Demon Patriarch

Before long, Chen Die’er’s curiosity bubbled up again. “Papa, how did you make this necklace shine so brightly?”

“I polished it,” her father replied.

“What does ‘polish’ mean?” she asked.

“I used a file to smooth its surface—that’s called polishing.”

“But why does it shine when you use that file on it?”

“The surface of the metal had oxidized. When I scraped off that oxidized layer with the file, it naturally gleamed again.”

“Papa, what’s oxidation?”

“Oxidation is…”

And so another round of questions and answers began.

…

At this moment, Mu Wanqing, leading Tu Wuchang, had entered Qingshui Town and reached the foot of the mountain.

“The master who bestowed the Sword character upon you lives atop this mountain?” Tu Wuchang gazed upward, his long horse-like face ablaze with fervor.

“Yes,” Mu Wanqing replied coldly, though a trace of sorrow welled up within her heart. In bringing Tu Wuchang here, she was certain the master would blame her for leading a fiend to desecrate his sacred ground, and when the time came, she would have no alternative but to atone with her life.

Guilt gnawed at her, and she sighed softly. The master had gifted her the character for Sword, yet she had brought a devil to meet him—it was utterly inexcusable.

“Haha!” Tu Wuchang laughed loudly. “So it truly is a recluse of the world, hiding away in such a mountain retreat. Good! Let me go fetch a few treasures!”

With those words, he could no longer restrain himself and shot up the mountain at great speed.

Mu Wanqing did not follow. She simply stood there, gazing up, for she could not bring herself to face Chen Changsheng.

“What dense spiritual energy!” Tu Wuchang soon sensed the thick, almost tangible aura saturating the air and was instantly elated.

He took several deep breaths, feeling as though every pore in his body was soothed in bliss.

“Marvelous. Such is the caliber of a true master—even his place of seclusion is a land of peerless fortune.”

Blood surged within him as he continued up the mountain. Before long, he caught sight of the wooden cabin where Chen Changsheng and his daughter lived.

“Haha! So that brat from the Sky Cloud Sect didn’t deceive me. I see the master’s abode at last—Master, I have come!” Tu Wuchang raced toward the wooden hut, laughing.

But as he approached, he suddenly cried out, “Samadhi True Fire?”

He was not mistaken—he felt a terrifying wave of heat billowing from the cabin, a heat so intense only the legendary Samadhi True Fire could produce. Ordinary flames had never affected him in the slightest.

Yet what astounded Tu Wuchang was that, despite the fearsome Samadhi True Fire, the wooden cabin showed no sign of melting. Nor did any of the flowers, grasses, or trees surrounding it seem the least bit disturbed.

“Am I hallucinating? How can a fragile blade of grass withstand such terrifying Samadhi True Fire?”

Utterly astonished, Tu Wuchang felt as though he himself would be vaporized in that fire, while everything else remained untouched, as if nothing were amiss.

So, am I worth less than a blade of grass?

“I refuse to believe this! I possess the soul of the Blood Demon Ancestor—how could I fall below a single blade of grass?” With that, Tu Wuchang dove down from the sky, striding toward the wooden cabin.

Yet the closer he drew, the more oppressive the Samadhi True Fire in the air became. In moments, sweat poured from his body and he grew unbearably uncomfortable.

“I once slaughtered the great sects until rivers of blood flowed—how can I be thwarted by a mere blade of grass? I refuse to believe it!” His battered body trembled, but he pressed on, step by resolute step toward the cabin.

He simply could not accept that he was lesser than a blade of grass.

“This Samadhi True Fire must be a test set by the master. Trash who can’t withstand even a blade of grass has no right to seek an audience with him.”

Tu Wuchang began to rationalize, convincing himself that the dreadful fire was a trial laid by the master, a means to keep petty pests away and protect his peace. As long as he could endure the Samadhi True Fire, he would meet the sage within and perhaps receive a few precious scrolls.

With the master’s calligraphy, he was certain his cultivation would ascend to new heights.

No way would he admit he was a trifling minnow. So, even as he felt himself on the verge of vaporization, he kept advancing toward that wooden house.

“I am the great demon possessing the soul of the Blood Demon Ancestor. Three centuries ago, I bathed the great sects in blood. I am no pitiful minnow.”

Tu Wuchang’s steps were unwavering. He believed he could conquer this terrifying fire.

Of course, the main reason was the master’s allure—if he could obtain even a few brushstrokes from that figure, his strength would soar instantly.

No cultivator could resist such temptation.

“Sss…”

Wisps of green smoke began to curl from Tu Wuchang’s body.

“I possess the soul of the Blood Demon Ancestor—my body is immortal and indestructible. I will pass this master’s trial!” He was in agony, his face twisted with pain, but his strides did not falter.

If he couldn’t endure even this trial, he was unworthy of the title of great demon.

Suddenly—

“Hiss…”

He vanished where he stood—gone, utterly gone.

He had been vaporized in an instant.

At that spot, a small wooden puppet abruptly fell to the ground.

“How did I lose my vessel…?” To his own amazement, a voice of astonishment issued from the little puppet: “I was just napping, how did I suddenly get separated? Where did that madman go? Gone?”

Then, a wisp of black smoke emerged from the puppet, quickly coalescing into a dark shade.

Clearly, this was the soul of the Blood Demon Ancestor.

“That madman is truly gone—what happened?” The Blood Demon Ancestor stood there, bewildered and indignant. “Unbelievable! It took me three hundred years to find a new host, and now—gone, just like that!”

Three centuries ago, he had possessed Tu Wuchang, transforming him instantly into a master of the Path of Dissolution, sweeping through the great sects.

Now, Tu Wuchang had vanished without warning, leaving the Blood Demon Ancestor utterly dumbfounded.

Then a flash of terror crossed his face. “Samadhi True Fire! How could such terrifying fire exist here?”

“Did that madman perish in the Samadhi True Fire of this place?”

“No, wait—not only is there terrifying Samadhi True Fire, but the vast and boundless laws of nature converge here!”

The Blood Demon Ancestor’s mood shifted to excitement. “This is an inconceivable land of fortune. Every flower and blade of grass here contains the most profound truths of nature.”

“Which master could have arranged such a wondrous place?”