Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilderness Chapter Thirty-Seven: Dragon Armor

Page (1/3)

Thanks to: Sun and Moon Elder, "Home Is Where the Heart Finds Peace," Book Friend 2297290 for your support with monthly votes!

......

Dawn had yet to break.

Two dark figures slipped out from the woods, quietly darting onto the main road at the forest’s edge.

Though their movements were furtive, they still managed to rouse the dogs in the nearby village.

Morning stars twinkled in the sky, and on the ground the dogs barked furiously. The two shadows ran along the road.

In no time, the shadows became three, then two again, still heading south, never pausing their flight. Gradually, the barking faded, replaced by the crowing of roosters. Soon after, a cluster of buildings appeared ahead. The two shadows did not slow, vanishing into the dawn in an instant.

It was a market town.

It was still early, and every household had their doors firmly shut. At the east end of town, the Welcoming Inn was no exception. Yet two shadows headed straight for the inn’s back door.

A lantern hung at the back entrance, swaying gently in the morning breeze. Two young men arrived in haste—one holding a longsword, sweeping his gaze about; the other set down the burly man he’d been carrying and wiped sweat from his brow. Now, the two shadows became three. The man they’d carried dragged one leg and used a broken branch as a crutch.

At their call, an old man opened the door, exclaiming in surprise at "Master Yan," and ushered the three into the backyard, where he arranged rooms for each and brought hot water and pastries. Once they had settled, daylight had fully broken.

The guestroom was small but well-appointed, with a window facing the street.

Yu Ye set down his sword, washed his face, ate a few pieces of pastry, drank half a jar of water, then went to the window.

Beiqi Town, Welcoming Inn.

Yu Ye had kept watch in the forest last night, not daring to close his eyes for most of it. Their hiding place, a burrow, was just over ten miles from Mount Beiqi. At night they could avoid pursuit for a time, but come daylight, their tracks would surely be revealed. So, before dawn, he urged Zhong Jian to move out.

Yan Chi had suggested heading to bustling Beiqi Town, twenty miles away, for safety in numbers. When Yu Ye carried Zhong Jian out of the forest, Yan Chi proposed they find a cart rather than walk on two legs. Yu Ye simply let Yan Chi carry Zhong Jian, exhausting him to the point he could barely speak. The two then ran straight to Beiqi Town and the Welcoming Inn, which Yan Chi knew well. It seemed Zhong Jian intended to stay at the inn to recover, while Yu Ye would soon have to travel on.

Looking out the window, he saw a few pedestrians on the street. Shops were opening one by one, smoke rose from every chimney. Dogs ran about, children cried in the early morning.

Such ordinary sights brought a rare sense of peace and security.

Yu Ye closed the door, slid the bolt, and sat down on the bed.

Zhong Jian and Yan Chi were both generous. Traveling with them, he needn’t worry about expenses.

Yu Ye took off his boots, sat cross-legged, smoothed his robe, exhaustion etched deep in his features.

Yesterday he’d been hunted by Old Hu, forced to take Zhong Jian up the mountain, fought two duels with Qi Refining masters, unleashed his sword energy to kill one, depleting all his inner strength. Now, with the tension finally easing, he felt utterly drained.

Who could have imagined that Bu Yi, after razing Mount Beiqi, would turn back again? Thankfully, they’d responded swiftly and escaped the trap.

Yes, a trap.

Bu Yi was like a hunter, using the Lingshan Dao Sect as bait, treating Yu Ye, Zhong Jian, Yan Chi, Old Hu, and all who came to Mount Beiqi as prey.

Yet Yu Ye himself was born of hunters, skilled in pursuit and ambush, keenly attuned to danger—yet even he could not fathom Bu Yi’s true intentions.

Whatever the man was after, since he could not afford to provoke him, he would keep as far away as possible.

Though perilous, their journey to Mount Beiqi was not without gain, just as he’d predicted.

Page (2/3)

He’d largely discerned the current state of Daoist sects across the land, discovered Bu Yi’s movements, befriended Zhong Jian, encountered Yan Chi, and dispelled his own worries over past associations with thieves. Moreover, he’d learned the minor arts of protective Qi and transmitting messages through divine sense.

Beyond that, he and Zhong Jian had plundered the scripture vault of Mount Beiqi, even taking part in a deadly scramble for spoils.

Yu Ye drew several items from his robe, finally allowing a small smile.

A jade tablet, a jade slip, and two small stones.

After killing the Qi Refining master, he’d only taken these three things, leaving the rest for Zhong Jian. He’d coveted the flying sword and storage ring, but had never been a greedy man.

The white jade tablet was inscribed on one side with "Zhongshan, Qizhou," and on the other, the words "Yunchuan." Qizhou’s Zhongshan was likely the deceased’s home. As for Yunchuan, its meaning was a mystery.

The jade slip, when infused with divine sense, revealed annotated maps of rivers, mountains, villages, and towns across the Five Kingdoms of Qizhou—a topographical map.

The two stones were each about an inch in size, sharply cut, translucent as fine jade, and unlike anything he’d seen before. He’d picked them up on a whim, immediately sensing something unusual.

Yu Ye picked up one stone, secretly delighted.

Indeed, though the stone appeared crystalline, to his divine sense it was a condensed bundle of Qi. If he held it in his hand and circulated his cultivation method, he could feel a trace of spiritual energy coursing into his body through his palm.

His sea of consciousness contained records: Spiritual energy is born of Heaven and Earth, crystallizing over ten thousand years to form stones like jade—spirit stones, indispensable to cultivators.

Yu Ye’s slow progress in cultivation was due to a lack of spiritual energy. With a spirit stone, his practice would be far more effective.

This was the true treasure!

He set the stone down and retrieved two jade slips from his robe.

Both were from the scripture vault.

One was a map slip—the "Geographical Map of Mountains and Rivers of Yanzhou" he’d mentioned to Zhong Jian.

The other, an ancient and mottled slip, he’d kept secret. Zhong Jian lacked divine sense and couldn’t use it; besides, the slip was badly damaged, containing only a single line: "A falling star enters the Southern Dipper, the Nine Purples open the Netherworld."

This cryptic line was likely left by some predecessor, dismissed as useless by later generations and discarded in the vault.

Yu Ye examined it, but his gaze always returned to the spirit stone.

He put away the jade slips and tablet, leaving only a spirit stone. Calming himself, he closed his eyes, gripped the stone, and silently cultivated. Wisps of invisible, clear Qi and tiny, flickering lights slowly flowed into him, coursing through his meridians, reaching his organs, his Qi sea and dantian, then to every limb and bone, returning again to his sea of consciousness and golden palace, all gathering in his Qi sea, cycling endlessly. The nearly depleted true Qi in his Qi sea gradually filled. Perhaps because his Qi was full, or perhaps nourished by new spiritual energy, the flood dragon pellet in his Qi sea emitted a faint yellow glow—weak, but like parched earth receiving sweet rain, dormant life stirring anew.

Soon, the gentle stream of spiritual energy became a flood, as if a dam had burst, surging uncontrollably...

"Bang, bang—"

Someone knocked at the door, calling out—

"Brother, my senior wants a word with you. You’ve slept three days already; it’s time to get up."

Within the guestroom, Yu Ye remained seated cross-legged, expression serene. His Daoist robe shivered, his disheveled hair floated as if in windless air. At the knock, he slowly opened his eyes, but ignored Yan Chi, instead lowering his gaze to his open palm.

The spirit stone in his hand was now cloudy, no longer crystalline, white as ordinary jade. Its spiritual energy had been consumed by half.

Three days and nights, and he’d absorbed over half the stone’s energy?

Yu Ye looked at his hand and arm.

While breathing and harmonizing his Qi, he’d tried using protective true Qi. Now, as he drew the Qi back, his robe and hair settled, but a faint bluish pattern, like scales, still lingered on his arm, faintly covering his whole body.

Page (3/3)

What was happening?

Yu Ye jumped from the wooden bed, grabbing the bronze mirror on the table.

In the mirror, his disheveled face showed nothing unusual, except for a faint trace of blackness at his brow.

Where had the blackness come from? He remembered Jiao Ying mentioning that after swallowing the flood dragon pellet, symptoms of poisoning would develop—perhaps this was it.

He looked down.

The blue markings on his body had vanished, as if nothing had happened at all—had he imagined it?

How could it be an illusion?

Yu Ye focused his thoughts.

With the circulation of true Qi, his robe billowed, his hair floated, and the blue marks reappeared, as if scales covered his entire body. Yet to the touch, his skin felt normal—perhaps a bit tougher, more resilient. In the mirror, a pale blue radiance masked his face, making his features look ugly and strange. When he withdrew his protective Qi, the blue marks and aura slowly faded again.

Why was this happening?

Could it be another effect of the flood dragon pellet?

If so, why did the marks resemble scales?

Could they be the scales of a flood dragon?

If this continued, what would become of him?

Yu Ye startled himself with the thought.

Looking inward, he saw his true Qi fully restored—purer and more abundant than before. In his Qi sea, a small bead hovered amidst the swirling energy, glowing faint yellow, no longer dormant but brimming with a wild, faint vitality.

"Jiao Ying, why is my protective true Qi different from others’? Am I turning into a monster?"

"Jiao Ying...?"

Yu Ye had no master; all his cultivation was by self-study or imitation. When doubts arose, he was left bewildered and helpless. At this moment, he craved guidance from a true expert—Jiao Ying was, in his mind, such a figure. But no matter how he called, the mysterious woman did not respond.

No matter. Though his protective Qi was odd, he felt no discomfort.

Regulating his breath had consumed much time—had three days really passed?

Yu Ye put down the mirror, pulled on his boots, gathered his belongings, and could not help glancing again at the spirit stone. Fine as it was, he had only two.

He drew back the bolt and opened the door, just as Yan Chi grumbled—

"Brother, how much longer are you going to dawdle? My senior wants a word with you..."