Chapter Eleven: You're the Crazy One

"You're insane!"

The cultivator at the peak of Qi Refinement shouted, his voice echoing with panic as he witnessed Wang Changsheng’s actions.

"You’re the one who’s insane!" Wang Changsheng retorted coldly. "You dare steal my spirit stones!"

A loud thud and a sharp hiss rang out.

Wang Changsheng’s palm landed squarely on the chest of the Qi Refinement cultivator. He had poured all his strength into that strike—such force would have been unbearable even for a newly advanced Meridian Opening cultivator, let alone one still at the peak of Qi Refinement.

Blood spurted from the cultivator’s mouth, his face turning deathly pale, eyes fixed on Wang Changsheng with a dark, sullen glare.

At the same time, the cultivator’s short sword drove mercilessly into Wang Changsheng’s thigh, piercing to the bone.

"Utter lunatic!" the cultivator spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm, his gaze vicious as he looked at Wang Changsheng.

Wang Changsheng’s tactics were nothing short of trading wound for wound.

Though the cultivator had taken a heavy blow to the chest, Wang Changsheng had not escaped unscathed. The sword had sunk deep into his thigh, and numbness was already creeping across his leg.

"That was close," Wang Changsheng muttered gravely.

Had he not twisted his body at the last moment, the sword would have pierced his abdomen instead of his thigh.

Though it seemed slow in the telling, all this had transpired in the blink of an eye. The force from the short sword flung Wang Changsheng aside.

Without hesitation, he struck a nearby tree with his palm. The trunk snapped with a loud crack, and Wang Changsheng used the rebound to hurl himself once more at his opponent.

"Die!"

With a ruthless cry, Wang Changsheng charged forward in the space of a heartbeat.

"Let’s see who dies!" the peak Qi Refinement cultivator shouted back, pushing both palms forward to meet Wang Changsheng’s assault.

Neither man dodged; they met head-on, fierce and unyielding, as if determined to trade life for life.

Their blows landed simultaneously—Wang Changsheng’s palm struck his foe, even as he himself took a strike to the chest.

Blood spurted from both their mouths as they glared at each other with savage intensity.

"It’s you who will die," Wang Changsheng snarled.

He withdrew his right hand and gripped the short sword embedded in his thigh.

With a roar, he yanked the blade free, agony twisting his face—not only from the pain, but also at the prospect of victory.

The sword, slick with blood, tore through his palm as he swung it, driving it deep into the chest of the Qi Refinement cultivator.

"You…you…"

Terror flickered in the cultivator’s eyes as he stared at Wang Changsheng.

With a final surge of strength, the cultivator gathered his remaining power and struck Wang Changsheng with a heavy palm, sending him flying backward.

Blood streamed from Wang Changsheng’s mouth as he tumbled through the air, yet a broad smile lit his face.

The cultivator clutched his chest, staggering back several steps, despair written all over his features.

"Cough… cough… cough…" Wang Changsheng’s voice was weak with exhaustion. "I told you… you… you’d be the one to die…"

The cultivator slumped beneath a tree, his eyes glassy, his breath fading to a whisper. Soon, his life slipped away, his eyes wide open in death, filled with unquenched fury.

Wang Changsheng struggled to sit cross-legged and began to regulate his breathing, channeling his energy to heal.

"This is truly a disaster," he murmured with a wry smile, feeling the state of his body.

He had no idea how many of his meridians had been severed. His internal organs were displaced—the only thing keeping him alive was the enduring energy of the Longevity Art. Without it, these wounds would surely have claimed his life.

"At least I survived."

After half a day of effort, Wang Changsheng finally stabilized his injuries and managed to stand, though his steps were unsteady and his face ashen. He made his way over to the corpse of the cultivator.

With a sharp pull, he retrieved the short sword from the chest, stowing it in his bundle. He then searched the body, finding only a little more than twenty low-grade spirit stones.

"Truly impoverished," Wang Changsheng muttered darkly.

What he did not know was that, in the realm of Shen Tian, those at the peak of Qi Refinement were the lowest of the low, and to have even twenty spirit stones left after paying for the cloud ship was a small fortune.

Apart from the spirit stones, there was nothing else of value.

"It’s a pity—I’d hoped to find a sword-controlling technique. That would have given me more options," Wang Changsheng said regretfully.

The method for sword control had clearly been destroyed. Still, his battle with the peak Qi Refinement cultivator had taught him much—he now understood that cultivators’ techniques were vastly different from those of martial artists.

"He was careless. Otherwise, it would have been me who died," Wang Changsheng said solemnly.

Had the cultivator been more vigilant and kept his distance, never allowing Wang Changsheng to close in, Wang Changsheng would have stood no chance, even if there were two of him.

"I must break through to the Meridian Opening realm as soon as possible, or I won’t stand a chance against other cultivators."

After tidying up, Wang Changsheng changed into a set of sturdy clothes from his bundle and set off deeper into the forest.

At this point, he had only managed to suppress his injuries—he had no real strength left. Even a martial artist at the Postnatal stage could have killed him easily.

"The most pressing task is to find a place to heal and then break through to Meridian Opening."

Before long, Wang Changsheng discovered a small lake. Not far from its shore stood a low cliff, which immediately caught his eye.

The terrain was perilous—easy to defend, hard to attack. The lake provided a clear view of the surroundings. It was a perfect place to heal and cultivate.

After a brief preparation, Wang Changsheng sat cross-legged and began circulating the Longevity Art to heal his wounds.

The healing power of the Longevity Art far surpassed that of ordinary cultivation methods, but his injuries were too severe; after a period of meditation, there was no visible improvement.

After some thought, Wang Changsheng took out one of the low-grade spirit stones he had seized from the fallen cultivator.

He began circulating the Longevity Art again, and a surge of spiritual energy rushed into his body.

"Ah!"

A cry of pain escaped him—not from his wounds, but from the overwhelming flood of spiritual energy. With his meridians damaged, he could not absorb or refine the energy efficiently, and it rampaged unchecked through his body.

The force battered his flesh and, worse, what little remained of his meridians.

He simply lacked the knowledge—healing was usually accomplished with medicinal pills, while spirit stones were used for regular cultivation. In his current state, spirit stone energy was not only useless for healing but could be dangerous.

But with the spiritual energy already inside him, there was no turning back.

Gritting his teeth, he endured the agony and circulated the Longevity Art, slowly converting the energy.

One by one, his meridians began to mend. He used his true Qi to shift his internal organs back into place. The pain was so intense he nearly lost consciousness.

Three days later, Wang Changsheng slowly opened his eyes and exhaled a long breath of turbid air. His face was still pale, but at least it had regained some color.

"There’s hope at last," he sighed.

Given the choice now, he would have fled instead of fighting.

Judging by the speed of his recovery, Wang Changsheng estimated it would take at least half a year to regain his peak condition. If he had access to miraculous healing medicines, perhaps he could shorten that time.

More troubling was the fact that his body’s functions had already been in decline before this ordeal. Now, after this battle, they had deteriorated even further.

"Five years—if I can’t break through to the Meridian Opening realm in five years, my body will burn out like a dying lamp," he muttered grimly.

Subtracting the six months needed for healing, he had only about four and a half years left to make his breakthrough.

There was not much time left.

He dared not waste a moment. Wang Changsheng threw himself back into healing—every second was precious, each heartbeat a measure of his dwindling life.

Discovering that spirit stones were ineffective for healing, he could only rely on the Longevity Art.

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye for a cultivator, but for Wang Changsheng, it was agonizingly slow.

At last, he opened his eyes and let out a long sigh.

He had finally recovered.

He couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of the battle—he had nearly lost his life.

"There’s no time to lose—I must at least break through to the Meridian Opening realm first."

Had it not been for that battle, his body might have lasted another twenty or thirty years. Now, he had only a few years left.

Without further hesitation, Wang Changsheng took out a low-grade spirit stone and began to absorb its energy.

As soon as the spiritual energy entered his body, he let out a low moan.

"How comfortable…"

Now that his wounds had healed, the spiritual energy no longer ran rampant but flowed smoothly with his Qi, continually scouring his meridians. After this ordeal, his meridians were tougher than ever. By his estimation, he was not far from breaking through—though how long it would take, he could not say.

Ten days later, Wang Changsheng opened his eyes and looked at the ashes in his hand. "A single low-grade spirit stone only lasts ten days of cultivation?"

By this calculation, the twenty-odd spirit stones he had seized would not last him even a year.

"I’ll have to take things one step at a time," he mused.

Still, twenty stones were better than none. Whether he could break through to the Meridian Opening realm with these would come down to fate. If all else failed, he still had three mid-grade spirit stones—his last hope.