Free Web NovelSu Ming stepped out of Gazing Star Cliff and followed the mountain path downward. Passing Sword Peak, he heard a sharp tearing sound of air from afar.
A cold, white figure was dancing like a startled swan on Sword Peak’s sword-testing stage.
It was Eldest Senior Sister Ling Shuang.
She wasn’t using any flashy sword techniques, only repeatedly practicing the most basic chops, slashes, and thrusts. Yet each swing released an Ice Soul sword intent that seemed capable of freezing the soul, carving a frost mark into the hard test-stone that plunged so deep it disappeared into darkness.
Ling Shuang seemed to sense Su Ming’s gaze. She sheathed her sword and turned her head. Her face, as cold as ancient profound ice, showed no expression; she only gave a very slight nod in Su Ming’s direction.
Su Ming stopped as well and returned a respectful bow.
He could clearly feel that Eldest Senior Sister’s sword intent had become purer and sharper than before he descended the mountain. It was the kind of clarity that had cut away all confusion, leaving only an unstoppable, single-minded Dao heart.
Continuing down, Su Ming had just reached the edge of the Purple Bamboo Sea when two figures in outer sect disciple robes burst out from the bamboo grove.
Qingfeng and Mingyue.
"Senior Brother Su! You're finally back!" Qingfeng, all scandal and gossip, hurried forward and lowered his voice, "I heard the capital was in chaos. Was the Yongchang Marquis really executed along with his entire clan? Were you there?"
Mingyue shoved Qingfeng aside and handed Su Ming an exquisite food box. "Ignore him, Senior Brother Su. I made this spiritual bamboo cake from Purple Bamboo shoots. Try it."
Su Ming took the box and, looking at those two lively faces, felt a good mood swell.
"Who can say for sure what happened at court? I only went to negotiate, I didn’t watch any of the commotion." Su Ming tossed them some mundane gossip with a harmless tone, satisfying their curiosity, then waved goodbye and headed toward his real destination—the Repair Hall.
In the Repair Hall courtyard, the furnace blazed high.
Wang Defa stood bare-chested, directing apprentices along the assembly line as they etched formation plates.
"Be careful! Hall rules require spiritual energy node deviations not exceed one hair’s breadth! If anyone ruins our Repair Hall's reputation, I’ll skin them alive!"
When he saw Su Ming enter, Wang Defa froze for a moment, then dropped his hammer and jogged over, his jowls squeezed into a grinning mass.
"Hall Master! You’re back!"
Even though Su Ming was already a True Disciple, Wang Defa habitually called him Hall Master—an intimacy and loyalty unique to the Repair Hall.
Su Ming glanced at the orderly assembly line and the jade slips full of orders hanging on the wall, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Is business good?"
"Thanks to you, it's excellent!" Wang Defa lowered his voice. "Even several of the inner peak halls are specifically requesting formation plates custom-made by our Repair Hall. Cheap, durable, not flashy. Our Repair Hall's account already has over three hundred thousand contribution points."
Su Ming patted Wang Defa’s shoulder.
"Well done. Once the fundamentals are secure, everyone can live well."
"Orders received!" Wang Defa answered loudly.
By the time Su Ming left the Repair Hall, dusk had fallen.
He retraced his steps. Passing the Discipline Hall, a sharp bark came from nearby.
The spirit hound Blacktooth, once extremely keen to Su Ming and said to be a descendant of the Truth-Hearing bloodline, was now tied to a stone pillar. When it saw Su Ming approach, it didn’t bark an alarm. Instead it lay on the ground, wagging its tail frantically and making soft pleading noises.
Su Ming stopped and glanced at Blacktooth.
He knew this wasn’t because he had become kinder. It was because his Aura Concealment Art had reached a perfected state; to the hound’s senses, he now appeared like a dead, ancient rock that nevertheless carried a terrifying oppressive weight.
Dogs seek profit and avoid harm.
Su Ming ignored Blacktooth’s attempts to ingratiate itself, folded his hands in his sleeves, and walked step by step back to Gazing Star Cliff under the moonlight.
Sect life, daily routine, everything was so calm.
......
The seventh day after returning to the sect.
Deep within the Gazing Star Cliff cave dwelling.
The heavy stone gate had long been dropped. Three layers of Concealment runes, two layers of Solidify runes, and an extra minor heavenly cycle Zhou Tian star defensive formation set up by Su Ming himself made the cave dwelling as secure as an iron drum. Even a Golden Core cultivator’s divine sense could only detect a rough section of mountain stone.
Su Ming sat cross-legged on his meditation cushion.
No candles burned inside the cave; only a few moonlight stones embedded in the dome radiated a cold, clear glow.
His breathing was extremely long and almost imperceptible. His Like Water Art was cycling his Great Heavenly Cycle at an exquisitely slow yet unyielding rhythm.
Under internal visualization, the bluish liquid spiritual power lake in his Dantian Qihai had expanded a full ring compared to before he descended the mountain. At the lake’s depths, the Dao foundation pedestal that bore his cultivation root had its once-abundant cracks now firmly filled by a layer of dark-gold material.
Those were the traces after the Earth Vein Spirit Milk’s kintsugi repair.
As spiritual energy flowed across those dark-gold veins, the previous stuttering, reef-like resistance disappeared, replaced by a sense of weight and rounded smoothness.
Su Ming slowly opened his eyes, and a faint blue light flashed in his deep pupils.
"Peak early Foundation Establishment. The spiritual energy is completely stabilized."
He muttered this to himself, with no pride in his tone; only absolute control over his own strength.
Although the Dao foundation’s damage didn’t immediately affect his current combat capability, Master Xuanheng's words still echoed in his ears—breaking the Core to form the nascent spirit, success rates lower than one in ten.
"I must find the three main ingredients of the Heaven-Mending Pill before forming the Core. Or discover an ancient remedy that can substitute for it."
Su Ming knew anxiety was pointless. Only steady, methodical progress and converting resources into power was the sole survival doctrine of the Way of Survival.
With a sweep of his sleeve, several storage pouches appeared on the greenstone floor before him.
It was time to inventory every gain from this mundane trip, and Su Ming’s eyes sharpened in focus.
First were the relics taken from the Foundation Establishment evil cultivator he killed on Black Wind Mountain.
"Thirty-six flagpoles carved from superior yin-dense wood. Extremely yin material, top-grade for making sealing-type formation plates. Keep."
"Three evil cultivator technique jade slips. These soul-extraction and spirit-refining methods carry heavy karmic consequences; I will never practice them. But their cultivation sequences and flaws can be studied. Know thy enemy, so next time meeting Ming Abyss Sect trash, killing them will be easier. Archive."
"One thousand two hundred low-grade spirit stones, thirty mid-grade spirit stones. What a pauper."
Su Ming curled his mouth and sorted the evil cultivator’s supplies into separate storage pouches, labeling them with talisman stickers representing different danger levels.
Next, he opened the exquisite storage pouch that Master Xuanheng had bestowed.
A wave of pure spiritual energy hit him.
"Five thousand low-grade spirit stones. Keep these for buying scarce materials in the black market later."
"Fifty bottles of Spirit Nourishing Pills. Extremely high quality; each bottle saves three days of sitting meditation. But pills don’t equal actual energy; pill toxins accumulating is a bother. Reserve them as strategic stock for quick spiritual energy replenishment in battle, never use casually."
Su Ming secured the spirit stones and elixirs, then took out the few rare formation manuals.
