Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilderness Chapter Sixty-Three: North of the Great Marsh

Inside the cave.

Yu Ye opened his eyes from meditation.

He spread his hands, and fragments of spirit stones scattered onto the ground.

After cultivating and regulating his breath for five days, he had exhausted a single spirit stone. At this rate, the two or three dozen spirit stones Old Feng had left him would not last more than a few months.

Had his cultivation advanced by much?

He did not know.

He only knew his spiritual perception had improved, now able to see at least thirty yards ahead. His meridians had grown tougher, and the true energy within his body was fuller.

Could his current cultivation allow him to unleash the Sevenfold Killing Sword Qi twice?

Yu Ye brushed the spirit stone dust from his hands and exhaled a long breath.

He was in no hurry to return home, hiding here instead to cultivate.

Improving his cultivation and mastering the Sevenfold Killing Sword Qi were means to preserve his life—he dared not slack off even for a day. There was also the Armor-Breaking Talisman, yet he had struggled to perfect it.

Yu Ye stood, stretching his limbs.

He walked to the cave entrance and looked down. At the foot of the mountain lay a remote little village, as quiet as always. He turned back inside, sat down, drew his long sword, and took out a stack of snakeskin, a wolf-hair brush, a ceramic bowl, a wine flask, and cinnabar.

First, he used his sword to cut a piece of snakeskin, trimming it to the size of a talisman, then held it with both hands, channeling true energy as he kneaded it.

No one had taught him this method; there was no record of it in any classic. He had simply figured it out himself. Hunters in the mountains would cure hides, so perhaps talismans could be made similarly—it was worth a try.

The rough snakeskin gradually became smooth and supple.

Yu Ye poured cinnabar and strong liquor into the ceramic bowl and bit his finger to squeeze out a few drops of blood. Dipping the wolf-hair brush into the mixture, he painted the symbol for the Armor-Breaking Talisman onto the snakeskin.

The snakeskin bore the power of the talisman without flaw; the whole talisman looked perfect.

Yu Ye held the talisman between two fingers, studied it for a moment, then slapped it onto his chest with a crisp sound.

A flash of light, followed by a faint pop.

He still sat where he was, body trembling slightly, but his shirt at the chest had been torn to shreds by the magic. Thankfully, his body was protected by true energy, and he remained unharmed.

The Armor-Breaking Talisman looked flawless—was its only use to rip clothes apart?

Where had he gone wrong?

Yu Ye frowned, lost in thought. After a moment, he cut another piece of snakeskin, squeezed out more blood, and took up the brush to try again...

Three days passed.

Yu Ye tossed the brush aside, his face weary.

Before him lay five Armor-Breaking Talismans.

Three days of ceaseless attempts, and even the blood squeezed from his fingers filled half a bowl. Of dozens of talismans drawn, not a single one worked. Now, the cinnabar and wine were gone, and only three or four feet of snakeskin remained. If these last five talismans failed, he would have to give up.

With a clatter—

Yu Ye swept the empty bowl and wine flask aside, grabbed a talisman, and stood. Looking at his shredded shirt, he shook his head, slapped the talisman onto his chest, and waited without hope.

Again, there was a flash of light, but no sound of tearing cloth.

Huh?

The talisman had vanished, and his hand was a bit blurry.

Was he seeing things?

Not only that, his whole body and limbs were indistinct, like a hazy apparition—strangely unreal.

Startled, Yu Ye spun in place and stumbled back a few steps. Suddenly, the ground vanished behind him; the scene changed, and the earth fell away beneath his feet—he was plummeting downward. He flailed, and with a thud, grabbed a crevice in the stone, his body dangling over the void.

What was happening?

Yu Ye looked around, then down.

Above him was blue sky, below a cliff. On either side, sheer rock faces and thickets, loose stones tumbling at his touch.

He had just been in the cave—how had he ended up outside in the blink of an eye?

His ghostly arms and legs gradually returned to normal. He was now clinging to the cliff face—undeniably real. If he let go, he would plunge down the twenty-yard drop.

“Ha!”

Yu Ye, still shaken, could not help but laugh aloud.

Countless times he’d hoped in vain, yet it was a careless, hopeless attempt that had finally succeeded.

Success had come so suddenly that he forgot to feel joy, left instead bemused and caught off guard.

He gripped the cliff, pushed off, and sprang up, landing atop the hill.

The small mountain was only a few dozen yards high, but standing there and gazing into the distance, Yu Ye felt his spirits soar.

“Awoo—!”

He couldn’t resist throwing his head back and howling.

No one had instructed him; he had puzzled it out alone, spending two or three months and making hundreds, even thousands of attempts—he had finally learned the art of forging talismans. If one is determined, there is nothing that cannot be achieved, even without a teacher.

If the Sevenfold Killing Sword Qi was his means of fighting and survival, then the Armor-Breaking Talisman was his tool for escape. With this method of vanishing and passing through walls, his chances of survival against a strong enemy had increased.

Yu Ye stood for a while, then slipped down the mountain.

He returned to the cave, carefully gathered the four remaining talismans from the ground.

In retrospect, it must have been because he’d squeezed a few extra drops of blood into the cinnabar after the wine ran out that the last talisman worked.

Yes, every talisman was bought with his own blood—he had to treasure them!

Yu Ye changed into a gray robe, popped a fasting pill into his mouth, then grabbed his sword and strode out of the cave, feeling light and free.

The fasting pill tasted bland, but it staved off hunger—a must for seclusion and cultivation.

“Seclusion” meant isolating oneself from the world to focus on training. Having spent these last days cultivating here, he supposed this counted as seclusion.

Before long, he reached the foot of the mountain.

About a mile away was a small village.

On the west end of the village stood two stone cottages and a large tree. Tethered beside a trough beneath the tree was a sturdy black horse. The horse, sensing its master’s approach, whinnied from afar.

Yu Ye walked over, greeted the horse affectionately, slid his sword into his pack, and untied the reins.

An old man emerged from the vegetable garden by the stone cottages and called out, “Young sir, you’ve been away ten days, and I’ve been worried!”

Yu Ye inclined his head in thanks, smiling. “Thank you for looking after my horse, uncle. I appreciate your trouble.”

The old man waved it off. “Young sir entrusted me with your horse—I wouldn’t dare be negligent!”

“Uncle, this is your due reward.”

Yu Ye pressed a silver ingot into the old man’s hands and, not waiting for refusal, vaulted onto the horse and rode away.

Leaving the village, a winding path led to the distant main road.

Yu Ye rode along the path.

The sun was high, the sky clear, a gentle breeze blowing—a perfect day for travel.

Looking back, he could see, miles away, the little mountain where he had spent eight or nine days. He had now been away from Pingshui Town for a month and a half. He hadn’t hurried back to Xingyuan Valley, but instead traveled several hundred miles, found a secluded village, boarded his horse with a local farmer, and spent several days cultivating alone.

Though this period of training had brought great gains, he had also lost quite a bit of time. Fortunately, Xingyuan Valley was now close—only two or three days’ journey more, and he would be home!

In a moment, his horse reached the highway and galloped away...

Five days later.

On a cliff, Yu Ye sat astride his horse.

He felt a little frustrated, though a smile played on his lips and his eyes shone with surprise and curiosity.

Below, the waves crashed with snowy foam; in the distance, the blue expanse stretched to the horizon.

The sea!

A journey that should have taken two or three days had taken five. Not until he saw the ocean did he realize he had gone the wrong way, bypassing the mountains around Xingyuan Valley and arriving at the shore.

As a child, he’d heard that the land north of Xingyuan Valley met the sea, but no one could say what the sea was like. The surrounding mountains blocked the way and the imagination.

The sea before him was unimaginably vast and magnificent!

This must be the northernmost point of the Great Marshlands. The wind from the sea was wild and cool, as if in a single step from late summer, one had entered deep autumn. Looking out over the endless waters, the distant sky, he was suddenly struck by how small and alone he was—and in the next breath, how at ease and unrestrained within the embrace of the world.

As the classics said: The sea, so vast, accepts the surge of a hundred rivers; the earth, so great, gives life to myriad living things; the sky, so high, holds the Milky Way and the boundless heavens. Yet none is as great as the heart, which can encompass heaven and earth and let the sea flow as it will.

Yu Ye gazed into the distance, filled with emotion.

The northern Great Marshlands were already desolate; farther north, the sea must be even more barren and uninhabited. To the south, though, lay the region of Qizhou, said to be home to many sects and masters. Bu Yi and Elder Qiu both hailed from Qizhou. He rather wanted to see it, to find out what was different about that unfamiliar land.

In this moment, Yu Ye suddenly felt a desire to roam the world.

A sharp wind swept over the sea; his horse reared and neighed.

Yu Ye gripped the horse with his knees, pulled tight on the reins, sat upright, and as the horse pranced back a few steps, he turned its head and charged down the mountainside.

Yet, for all the vastness of earth and sea, he could not let go of Xingyuan Valley.

He worried for Yujia Village, for Elder Qiu. The knots in his heart remained untied—he needed to seek out the truth behind his confusion.

The mountains around Xingyuan Valley stretched hundreds of miles. Now that he’d taken the wrong road, he would be delayed a few more days.

Yu Ye left the sea behind and galloped back along his route.

After dozens of miles, dusk fell. The mountain path narrowed, the terrain grew rugged, and the woods thickened.

Yu Ye slowed his horse.

He had reached the coast in the afternoon; now, night was descending. He would find a place to rest for the night and continue at dawn. This was the custom, for mountain roads were treacherous in the dark; if a horse stumbled, disaster could follow.

Soon, he came upon a mountain stream. The brook ran noisily across the path, and the nearby grass grew lush.

Yu Ye dismounted, took his sword and water pouch, and sat down on the slope by the stream.

The path here widened a bit; on one side rose a sheer cliff, on the other, thick grass and a deep ravine, with mountains looming beyond—making this place seem like a remote, dim canyon. To camp alone here required some courage.

Yu Ye was unconcerned, drank a few mouthfuls of water, and prepared to meditate.

His horse, grazing nearby, suddenly neighed.

At the same time, a cold wind blew.

Yu Ye started slightly...