Chapter Eighty-Two: A Step Forward

Over the next several days, Shi Yan remained secluded inside the carriage, and no one knew exactly what he was doing. The two carriages journeyed through the forest for nine days. Each night, Zuo Shi and Wu Yunlian would make their way to the river to wash and fetch fresh water for everyone with unfailing regularity.

Whenever Shi Yan emerged, he would bury himself in eating and drinking, paying no attention to anyone else, and then return to his carriage without a word.

It was late at night once more.

Under rows of lush trees, the two carriages rested quietly; several fine horses, freed from their harnesses, grazed nearby. Within the Zuo family’s carriage, Zuo Shi and Wu Yunlian, freshly bathed and feeling refreshed, lounged inside, chatting and laughing in low, lazy voices. Chu Ping, Han Feng, and Ku Long kept watch over the carriages and horses, exchanging insights about cultivation on the grass.

Inside the Shi family’s carriage, Shi Yan wore a solemn expression, his face more serious than ever. After nine days of relentless study, he had gained new understanding.

His right arm shimmered with crystalline light, and strange white specks darted through his veins. Threads of pure essence energy were repeatedly tempered within his meridians by a unique method, condensed over and over.

After the seventh cycle, Shi Yan’s right arm began to swell, growing a size thicker. Muscles bulged grotesquely, veins stood out in sharp relief—a sight both fearsome and awe-inspiring.

“Ha!” he uttered softly, his eyes grave and unwavering as he stared at his right arm. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.

A peculiar rumbling echoed from his right arm. After seven refinements, the essence energy within split into seven streams, each running through separate meridians, clearly distinct from one another.

As Shi Yan focused his will and activated the energy, the seven streams twisted together at his wrist and fused in a heartbeat. From his right palm surged a vibrant, life-filled force.

His eyes shone bright as stars. He hastily urged the condensed beam of essence formed from the seven streams.

With a thunderous boom, the combined essence shot into his palm, which erupted in dazzling crystalline light. The condensed core of energy exploded in his hand, filling his palm with countless sparkling points of light. The lights surged into his palm’s lines, making his whole hand glow with a strange radiance.

Suddenly, the points of light burst forth from his palm, forming an uncanny imprint—a crystalline handprint that flew out first. Then, six more identical handprints exploded out in quick succession.

Seven handprints, wild as untamed stallions, simultaneously struck the carriage’s walls.

The carriage shattered, its sturdy wood splintering into flying shreds.

Shi Yan, still seated on the ground, stared in astonishment at the fragments, his head still ringing from the force of his own power. He sensed clearly that a third of his essence energy was completely drained by this attack.

The seven “Life Seals” had drawn every last drop of energy from his arm, leaving it limp and numb.

Zuo Shi and Wu Yunlian leaped from the Zuo family’s carriage in fright, gaping at the destruction. Chu Ping, Han Feng, and Ku Long, likewise stunned, could only stare in confusion.

Shi Yan sat for a moment before coughing lightly and saying, “Uncle Han, it seems we’ll have to ride the horses now.”

Han Feng nodded, still perplexed. “Young Master Yan, what exactly were you doing?”

Wu Yunlian, her beautiful face full of puzzlement, approached with Zuo Shi. “Why destroy the carriage so suddenly? Can you give us an explanation?”

“Cultivation mishap,” Shi Yan shrugged indifferently. “It happens. Don’t worry, the carriage might be gone, but the horses remain—we won’t be delayed.”

“You were inside all this time just to practice martial arts?” Zuo Shi stared in amazement.

“That’s right.”

“How dull,” she scoffed. “No one’s forcing you, so why work so hard?”

“Interest,” he replied simply.

“As if I’d believe that,” she retorted.

Wu Yunlian, after a moment’s hesitation, her expression growing serious, said, “Young Master Yan, what kind of technique are you practicing? That outburst just now was extremely fierce—such explosive power isn’t something a typical Mortal Level martial artist could possess…”

“Nothing much,” Shi Yan smiled, unwilling to elaborate. Stretching, he turned to Han Feng. “Uncle Han, I’m hungry. Can you get me something to eat?”

“Alright.” Seeing Shi Yan didn’t want to talk, Wu Yunlian let the matter drop and left with Zuo Shi.

After devouring his meal, Shi Yan said, “Uncle Han, I’m going to bathe. No need to follow—I won’t go far. If anything happens, I’ll call out.”

“Be careful, Young Master,” Han Feng warned, trailing off with concern.

Soon after, Shi Yan reached the river, plunged in, and bathed thoroughly before changing into clean clothes. Instead of returning immediately, he put more distance between himself and the others.

Beneath an ancient tree, Shi Yan’s expression grew solemn as he suddenly summoned the negative forces within his body.

From every acupoint surged a mix of bloodlust, terror, slaughter, and despair. Under his control, these negative energies flooded into his left arm.

His withered left arm became shrouded in drifting white mist, shifting like ghostly shadows. With a thought, Shi Yan manipulated the negative power as he had done with his right arm.

Under his guidance, the already shriveled limb contracted further, the skin clinging tightly to bone—a grotesque sight. Yet as the arm withered, a sinister, destructive energy began to gather within.

Soon the white mist turned inky black, as if his arm had been poisoned to a terrifying degree. A mad, evil power condensed rapidly in his left arm.

After seven cycles, the energy surged into his left palm and exploded.

Seven jet-black handprints, accompanied by thunderous detonations, shot out from his palm lines. That annihilating power, heavy with death, slammed into the ancient tree before him.

The massive tree, thick as two men’s waists and over ten meters tall, collapsed instantly. Its lush vitality was instantly severed.

Before Shi Yan’s eyes, black mist clung to the fallen tree, whose leaves yellowed at a speed visible to the naked eye. The once vibrant tree seemed to pass through the entire cycle of life to death in a moment, reduced to a lifeless husk. Even the fallen leaves lost every trace of vitality.

The nearby grass, too, withered and died in an instant—an eerie sight indeed.

The Death Seal.

Shi Yan’s eyes blazed with eerie light, heart pounding with shock. He’d known the Death Seal was extraordinary, but he had not expected such devastating power. Not only was its force overwhelming—it carried the power of death itself, capable of severing even the life force of plants.

If the Death and Life Seals were merged into a true Seal of Life and Death, what would happen then?

Shi Yan drew a deep breath, realizing this was not the time for further experiments.

Footsteps approached.

He immediately sensed Han Feng and the others coming. His expression shifted, and he quickly departed, heading back the way he had come.

Sure enough, Han Feng and Ku Long hurried over, calling anxiously, “Young Master, are you alright?”

Wu Yunlian and Zuo Shi peered out behind them, both staring at Shi Yan in amazement, as if wanting to see what had happened. The thunderous explosions and the ensuing sinister aura had clearly alarmed everyone.

“I’m fine, let’s go back,” Shi Yan replied calmly. “Just another mishap during cultivation. Something bad happened, but it’s alright, it won’t happen again.”

“Shi Yan, what exactly are you cultivating? It doesn’t seem like any orthodox martial skill I know,” Zuo Shi finally burst out, her face full of curiosity.

“Who cares if it’s orthodox or not—a martial skill that can kill is a good skill,” Shi Yan replied coolly.

“You’re so secretive! I don’t know what you’re up to,” Zuo Shi pouted in exasperation. “Let’s hurry up. It’s almost been a month. If we’re late, that woman from the Xia family might not wait for us.”

“Xia Xinyan…” Shi Yan murmured, suddenly recalling the intoxicating taste of her lips. His heart stirred, and a hint of ambiguity crept onto his face. After a pause, he nodded. “Yes, we should speed up. Don’t worry, I won’t hold you back.”

“Shi Yan, don’t tell me you have designs on that woman?” Wu Yunlian’s sharp eyes caught his subtle expression, and she exclaimed, “I advise you to behave! That woman is no easy mark. In my opinion, there’s no man in our alliance worthy of her—not even Bei Ming Shang!”

I’ve already tasted her.

Shi Yan snorted dismissively. “No matter how noble or beautiful a woman is, in the end, she still ends up in a man’s bed. Xia Xinyan is no exception!”

“You’re so crude!” Zuo Shi blushed fiercely, glaring at him. “Why didn’t I notice this before? So this is your true nature—you’re just a lecher!”

“Nonsense!” Wu Yunlian retorted angrily. “I’ve never lain in anyone’s bed! You really can’t say anything decent, can you?”

“Then I truly pity you,” Shi Yan replied, feigning surprise.

“You brat! I’m finding you more and more unbearable,” Wu Yunlian snapped, gritting her teeth. She suddenly missed the quiet days when Shi Yan had hidden himself inside the carriage.

…

Three miles ahead of Shi Yan’s group, two burly, iron-tower-like men raged, “Miss, some bastard is speaking ill of you!”

Shi Yan’s voice had carried high and clear. Even at a distance of three miles, the three from the Pavilion of Mist heard every word.

“No matter how noble or beautiful a woman is, in the end, she still ends up in a man’s bed. Xia Xinyan is no exception!”

Xia Xinyan frowned, silently repeating Shi Yan’s words in her heart. A cold glint flashed in her clear eyes as she replied, “That’s someone from the Zuo and Shi families. Leave them be for now—we’ll be meeting them soon enough. When that time comes, I’ll see who dares gossip about me behind my back!”

…