C11 Zhou Guangyuan

The other two disciples, who had also received messages via flying swords, rushed to the scene of the incident with equal urgency. It had been five years since a core disciple of the Yin-yang Sect met an untimely death during their training. As the preeminent cultivation sect in the State of Qin, it was rare for anyone to dare provoke them. Who could be so audacious? This was the question on everyone's mind, and they were all seething with righteous anger, silently vowing to exact a gruesome revenge on the perpetrator once they were caught.

…

For over ten days, Feng Yimo traveled with the caravan without incident, covering more than a hundred miles each day. Along the way, he encountered a myriad of splendid wildflowers. Wherever there were butterflies, they seemed drawn to Feng Yimo, fluttering around him in a mesmerizing dance that left onlookers like Ling Hai and the Silver Robed Guards in awe. They had never witnessed the spectacle of tens of thousands of butterflies swirling above a pond; even a few hundred had them spellbound.

Ling Ya and Qiu Ju frolicked among the butterflies with sheer delight, hopping and skipping with unbridled excitement. Ling Ya, in particular, was quite smug. She imagined the sensation she'd cause if she could showcase Feng Yimo's unique charm with butterflies at the Hundred Flowers City Flower Festival. She had affectionately dubbed Feng Yimo her "flower slave," and he was now entrusted with the care of her garden.

With time on his hands, Feng Yimo sifted through Chi Yangzi's Storage Bag, discovering over two hundred low-grade spirit stones, a dozen elixirs, and a handful of cultivation technique jade slips. While there were no spirit tools, the bag did contain an assortment of refining materials and various first-level spirit herbs, all remarkably fresh and likely recently harvested.

Feng Yimo was indifferent to the spirit stones, refining materials, and herbs. His interest lay in the cultivation technique jade slips. Given that the Yin-yang Sect was the foremost cultivation sect in the State of Qin, surely they possessed superior techniques. He took out the jade slips, cradled them in his palm, and quietly employed his Divine Sense to absorb the information within.

The first jade slip revealed a map detailing the expanse of Chu Country, along with adjacent territories of the State of Yue and the State of Qi. The Chu Country spanned tens of thousands of miles east to west and over five thousand miles north to south, a testament to its vastness. Feng Yimo was thrilled; he had been seeking Black Wood City in Chu Country. However, after scouring the map, he found no trace of Black Wood City. What could this mean? Was the map incomplete, or was Black Wood City simply too insignificant to be marked?

With a sense of puzzlement, he set aside the first jade slip and reached for the second. It detailed a cultivation method known as the Yin Yang Art, the primary technique practiced by all disciples of the Yin-yang Sect. The essence of the technique was captured in its guiding principle: "Yin and Yang are both one and dual aspects, each concealing the other, interchanging and mutable, never to be singularly defined. Though neither holds a fixed form, they shift with the Dao, serving both as the Dao itself and as instruments. The Dao's applications are boundless, present in all things, defined by their use. Once employed, Yin and Yang are determined, yet even in their certainty, they are subject to change with time. Thus, it is said: Yin and Yang are not two but one, to be regarded as the Taiji, the supreme ultimate, governing both, interacting and transforming myriad things."

Feng Yimo's frame shook with revelation. This brief outline, a mere one hundred and twenty-three characters, seemed to unveil the origin of all things. Something within him stirred, and he was lost in contemplation.

From afar, Qiu Ju noticed Feng Yimo's absent gaze and nudged Ling Ya. "Miss, do you think Flower Slave has lost his wits?"

Ling Ya turned to see Feng Yimo seated on a rock, bathed in the evening's amber light. The setting sun cast a golden radiance over him, his features sharp and his demeanor a blend of focus and effortless grace. A fist-sized purple butterfly descended from the heavens, alighting on his shoulder. Its wings fluttered in harmony, embodying a perfect unity. Ling Ya was captivated by the sight.

After a long pause, Ling Ya snapped out of her astonishment. Who was this Flower Slave, truly? Could he indeed be just a wanderer?

...

At the desolate remains of Zhou Pao Skin Manor, a streak of blue light fell from the sky. A young man, clad in a blue brocade robe, touched down on the fractured steps. Confronted with the wreckage before him, he paused, then called out in bewilderment, "What has happened here? Big Brother, where are you?"

Amidst the ruins and broken walls, echoes seemed impossible. He strode into the decrepit courtyard, his Divine Sense sweeping the area as he moved. Regrettably, his search turned up empty.

Having recently achieved the Foundation Establishment stage with a formidable Divine Sense, he would have hastened to his brother's side immediately upon receiving his message—if not for the critical point of his seclusion. Arriving more than ten days late, he was met with the stark reality that he and his brother were now worlds apart. It was a truth he couldn't bear.

"Who did this? Who slaughtered my brother's entire family?" The young man's growl was primal, his expression twisted in rage, his facial muscles quivering with fury. "Ah! Big brother, I swear I will find the murderer and exact your revenge!"

His brother's letter had spoken of a millennia-old ginseng, suggesting an easy path to advance in the Foundation Establishment realm. Little did he know, his innate talent was exceptional. A single Foundation Establishment Pill from his sect was all it took to break free from his limitations in just three months, propelling him into the Foundation Establishment realm and into the ranks of true cultivators. He had been elated, receiving both praise and a top-grade spiritual weapon from his master as a gift for his advancement. He had been eager to share his triumph with his brother, only to return to this scene of devastation.

Rising to his feet, he spread his arms wide, embracing the yin and yang. Between his palms, a transparent bubble formed, growing to the size of a foot as he extended his hands. With a sudden exhalation, he expelled a mouthful of Essence Blood, and the bubble turned a deep, shimmering red. Within it, two figures emerged from the haze, their actions becoming clearer. It was Chi Yangzi locked in combat with a girl in a red dress, a fiery inferno raging behind them. Servants attempting to flee were reduced to a rain of blood and flesh in the wake of their clash. Unseen in the dim light was Feng Yimo, concealed by the wall.

The young man's complexion was ashen, his energy flagging. His unique secret technique, Bloodline Seeking Shadow, drained his Essence Blood significantly. His newly established realm was still unsteady, teetering on the brink of collapse. Yet, the urgency to identify his foe outweighed his own well-being. From childhood, he and his brother had only had each other. His brother had nurtured him and paid a steep price for his entry into the Absolute Soul Sect to study the ways of immortality. Without his brother, Zhou Guangyuan would not exist. Thus, his brother's vengeance was non-negotiable—the perpetrator must be found.

The Bloodline Seeking Shadow technique was limited to tracing events that occurred within the past half-month; anything beyond that timeframe was beyond its reach, no matter how formidable the skill. That's why Zhou Guangyuan was willing to risk the potential regression of his own cultivation level to invoke this secret method.

"The Yin-yang Sect and the Hundred Joy Sect are behind this! They must have learned that my brother possessed the millennium ginseng and, after a dispute over their ill-gotten gains, they turned on each other. I'll have your heads for this!" Zhou Guangyuan's rage boiled over as he identified the garments of the two individuals. Crushing the bubble in his hand, he bellowed with venomous fury.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Three silhouettes materialized before the Zhou family's main entrance. Leading them was Chi Zhu Zi, who was on a quest to uncover the cause of Chi Yangzi's demise. He could have arrived earlier, but the alarming messages from his two senior brothers had sent him into a panic, nearly causing him to act rashly.

The senior brothers had claimed that the assailant was capable of slaying Chi Yangzi, who was at the zenith of the second Qi Refinement layer. This implied that the murderer's cultivation level had to surpass that peak. Had Chi Zhu Zi ventured there alone, he might have met the same fate. Consequently, the trio resolved to journey together.

No sooner had they touched down than they spotted a young cultivator emerging from the debris, his eyes blood-red, his complexion ghostly pale. He stared at them with a predatory gaze, and, unsettlingly, they were unable to discern his cultivation level. A jolt of alarm struck them—could this individual be the one responsible for Chi Yangzi's death?