Chapter Forty-Seven: Seven Slaughters

Cave dwelling.

Within the meditation chamber.

Lu Qian sat in his study, unfolding the prescriptions before him.

There were the Ink of the Nether Taishui, the Golden Centipede Pill, and the Natural Powder.

The primary ingredient for the Ink of the Nether Taishui was the One-Eyed Taishui.

The One-Eyed Taishui was formed by the merging of a Taishui and a human corpse.

When used medicinally, it allowed one to perceive the essence of Yin, transform the body into shadow, and let the Yin Spirit touch the distant flows of the Yellow Springs.

For cultivators of the Temple of the Nether Path, this medicine could greatly enhance the process of refining Qi into Spirit. In dire moments, it could be consumed to turn into shadow and escape.

The Golden Centipede Pill calmed the spirit, warded off evil, and prevented fright.

The cultivation methods of the Temple of the Nether Path were of the Yin attribute, inevitably involving contact with all manner of unfathomable entities.

Such things could, to varying degrees, disturb the mind and draw one into the demonic path.

The demonic path was distinct from heterodox schools.

Even those who practiced heterodox arts shunned demons and fiends.

Demons were inhuman, bereft of all humanity.

What seemed filthy, poisonous, and foul to mortals was, in the eyes of demons, a delectable treat.

As for the Natural Powder, there was little need to elaborate.

Besides these, there were the Fire Thunder Elixir, the Ten-Thousand-Flower Heart-Piercing Powder, and the Water-Repelling Pill—prescriptions brought back from his recent excursion.

These formulas were more practical in nature; he would bring plenty on his journey into the Netherworld this time.

There were still six months before the opening of the Netherworld.

Half a year was not long. With his current cultivation regimen, it would be over in the blink of an eye.

Moreover, his coming focus would be on absorbing the Essence Blood of the Fish-Dragon and completing the process of drawing blood into the body.

In truth, six months seemed scant; Lu Qian wished he had ten years to prepare.

Fortunately, he could entrust the refining of pills to his two paper servants; otherwise, half a year would hardly be enough to even sit for meditation.

The coming days would be centered upon the Fish-Dragon’s Essence Blood and the guiding techniques.

Next in importance were the Spirit Projection Technique and the drawing of the Greed Wolf Yin Talisman.

These two would determine his offensive capabilities.

In the cave, time slipped by unmarked by seasons or the sun and moon.

Three times each day—morning, noon, and night—he did not miss a single session of guiding Qi, while the air of the cave was perpetually suffused with dark, watery vapor, as if it were an underworld palace.

Apart from sleep and meals, every moment was devoted to cultivation.

Though the days were arduous, they were quiet and natural.

The mysterious golden mirror’s scale ticked upward, little by little.

This sense of reward—that hard work would surely bear fruit—was unimaginable to others.

His heart brimmed with the satisfaction and fulfillment that diligent cultivation brought.

News from the outside world reached Lu Qian’s ears from time to time, but he paid little heed.

During this period, Yu Ci and the others went out on a mission.

Luck did not favor them; they suffered heavy losses.

Yu Ci was gravely injured, and Yan Xinglie’s soul was utterly destroyed.

The pharmacy remained as busy as ever.

Lin Qing seemed to have become a different person, practicing day and night with fierce determination.

Perhaps she had learned of the coming Netherworld and felt a sense of impending crisis.

Lacking natural talent, her progress was not remarkable; she still fell just short of refining Qi.

Three months later, Lu Qian emerged from seclusion.

He carried a bundle brimming with medicinal ingredients.

He was heading to trade with Wang Ming, and perhaps exchange for some supplies.

Ghost Market.

A short-bearded man in blue robes sat listlessly behind his stall.

He didn’t greet the passing customers, only casting a glance at them as they went by.

“Boss, I’m here to buy something.”

A black shadow blotted out the light; the Daoist in black’s eyes shimmered as he fixed his gaze on the stall owner.

Wang Ming lifted his head. Upon seeing the Daoist before him, he was momentarily stunned, then burst out laughing: “You gave me a fright! So it’s you!”

“Here, will you take these?”

Lu Qian undid the bundle, revealing a translucent jade bottle containing a mass of writhing Ink of the Nether Taishui, golden pills, several packets of powder, and more.

Wang Ming’s eyes lit up—he knew his goods. After checking the quality, he became visibly excited.

“We’ll take them—all you have, I’ll take! Lu Qian, you’re incredible; knowing you is the best thing I’ve ever done in this business!”

“Is it really that impressive…” Lu Qian replied, somewhat embarrassed.

The elixirs were indeed a notch above last time, but Wang Ming’s reaction seemed excessive.

“You have no idea how hot cultivation supplies are right now. With the Netherworld about to open, everyone is madly sweeping up anything related to cultivation. Prices are up by half across the board.”

At this, Wang Ming gave him a meaningful look: “Lu, you have no idea how valuable a Lingbao Hall member’s status is. If word got out, who knows how many female cultivators would throw themselves at you.”

“Oh, don’t tease me.” Lu Qian waved his hand.

Choosing a Dao partner was no trivial matter; not an ounce of carelessness could be afforded.

If one picked the wrong person, they might betray you at a critical moment—the consequences would be dire.

Especially since Lu Qian carried a great secret.

This secret must never be revealed.

The experts of the Temple of the Nether Path were not benevolent monks and nuns.

They would not hesitate at citywide massacres for the sake of cultivation. If they ever discovered his secret, he would face soul-searching and bone-scraping torture without a doubt.

Ordinary Dao partners held no appeal for him.

“At market prices, I’ll give you twenty-five merit points in total.”

Over the past two months, he had accumulated more than eighty merit points.

After a moment’s thought, Lu Qian said, “Do you have any fish grass? I need two hundred stalks.”

“I’ll also need centipede eyes, One-Eyed Taishui, assorted quantities of lead, mercury, gold, and silver, thirty feet of corpse-thatching grass paper, two jin of Yin Mountain jade, ten jin of blood-patterned steel, ten ghost-face flowers, and a dust-repelling robe.”

The remainder of his funds he would exchange for rare medicinal herbs; lead, mercury, gold, and silver could be used to make Natural Powder.

Jade mixed with gold and silver would enhance the Qi-gathering formation.

The dust-repelling robe would spare him the trouble of laundry.

But most crucial was the fish grass.

Fish-Dragon Grass was formed by absorbing the essence of its kin nearby.

From a patch of fish grass, only one Fish-Dragon Grass would emerge.

This fit exactly with what Li Du had called “strife”—where fate hung by a thread, and only one could survive.

“I have it,” Wang Ming nodded, secretly marveling at how wealthy an apothecary was.

“Once this transaction is done, I’m going into seclusion, too,” Wang Ming said seriously.

Exploring the Netherworld was a sect-mandated mission.

Other than the old, weak, or infirm, everyone had to go.

In past years, at least thirty percent did not return.

Wang Ming had connections to arrange for a relatively safe logistics post, but he still had to be cautious—he had no wish to become another casualty.

Back in his cave, Lu Qian harvested all his other spirit herbs and planted two hundred stalks of fish-scaled grass.

Then he took out the jade bottle.

“Rest and recuperate—no mischief.”

Lu Qian looked at the Fish-Dragon Grass flapping in his palm.

Seeing its kin below, the Fish-Dragon Grass’s golden eyes gleamed with delight.

A predator’s delight.

With a splash, the Fish-Dragon Grass dove into the soil like a fish into water, leaving only the green blades atop its head exposed.

Lu Qian felt the nearby fish grass, as well as the ambient spiritual energy, rush madly in the direction of the Fish-Dragon Grass.

“What a greedy and domineering thing!” Lu Qian could not help but sigh.

If it were ever allowed to grow unchecked, who knew how many living things would suffer.

The days that followed saw Lu Qian once again immersed in cultivation.

When inscribing the sixth layer of talismans into the Fivefold Slaughter Yin Talisman Sword, a mistake caused an explosion, rendering his efforts futile.

He started over, failing several times in succession, unable to break through the bottleneck.

At last, when his mastery of the Greed Wolf Yin Talisman reached perfection, he completed the Sixfold Slaughter Yin Talisman Sword—a total of twenty-one talismans layered together, its power peerless.

Boom!

One day, azure light erupted in the meditation chamber, Yin fire seething.

The entire cave seemed to tremble.

Beside Lu Qian floated a three-foot-long sword of blue Yin fire.

Lively and ethereal, yet radiating a murderous aura.

The entire cave seemed shrouded in a layer of frost, the killing intent so sharp it stung between the brows.

The Sevenfold Slaughter Yin Talisman Sword was complete!