Chapter Forty-Nine: The Final Hour Approaches

Lin Qing suddenly dropped to her knees, saying, “Daoist Brother, your powers are vast—I know you have a way to help me enter the Qi Refining stage. I am willing to pay any price!”

Hearing this, Lu Qian looked Lin Qing up and down. “I do not possess any certain method to enter Qi Refining. You’ve come to the wrong person.”

“But Daoist Li Du said you did, and told me to seek you out.” Lin Qing’s cheeks turned crimson under Lu Qian’s scrutiny, and she lowered her head shyly.

“Master?” Lu Qian suddenly recalled something. When he had first obtained the Fiery Sun Qi Art, he had asked Li Du for advice on cultivating it—wondering if he could bypass the dual cultivation aspect and practice it directly. Li Du had answered that it was not possible.

Qi arts, he’d explained, were a means of “lifting heaven and earth, grasping yin and yang, breathing in and out, standing alone and guarding the spirit.” What was trained was a single breath. Men are yang, women are yin. Yin and yang complement each other—gathering yin to replenish yang. Only by using the dual sexes to form a great celestial circuit could one achieve the utmost pure and blazing Fiery Sun Qi, freely circulating and transforming into myriad forms. If even one link was missing, it would be impossible to cultivate this breath. Men who practiced this art gained fiery yang energy; women could gather yang to replenish yin, transforming yin into yang and enhancing their cultivation.

Since he could not cultivate the art, Lu Qian had let the matter drop.

“You came for that technique?” Lu Qian asked.

At his directness, Lin Qing’s face flushed even deeper, her skin tinged with a delicate pink. Because she had just been channeling her energy, now, in this state—like a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked—Lu Qian felt a surge of heat within him. His eyes gleamed, like a beast selecting its prey.

“Master Li Du has set me up!” Lu Qian smiled bitterly to himself.

Lin Qing, seeing Lu Qian remain silent, lifted her head. Catching the look in his eyes, she grew frightened and lowered her head again, thinking she would likely have to offer herself tonight. Yet, in her heart, she also felt some relief.

Lately, many people had come with veiled hints—if she agreed, she would instantly receive ten times the resources. But Lin Qing was unwilling to rely on such means for her cultivation. Because of her position in the pharmacy, no one had dared to force her.

But almost two years had passed since joining, and if she failed to break through to Qi Refining within two years, her rank would be stripped, and she’d be demoted to a menial servant. Then, she would be nothing but meat on the chopping block, at the mercy of others. Rather than let those people take advantage, she’d rather give herself to this junior disciple before her. Lu Qian was at least handsome and talented; even if she failed to reach Qi Refining, serving as his attendant was a decent fate. That was preferable to dying of poison in the pharmacy, or being a lowly servant subject to anyone’s whim.

“I’m sorry.” Lu Qian’s reply was unexpected.

He offered no further explanation, simply turned and fetched several jade bottles, handing them to Lin Qing. “These are high-quality elixirs, enough to support your cultivation for a time. Whether you succeed depends on fate. We are fellow disciples—if you reach Qi Refining, pay me back at cost. If not, forget it.”

Lin Qing lowered her head and took the medicines. “Thank you, Brother Lu.”

“If there is nothing else, please return,” Lu Qian said indifferently.

Lin Qing left in a daze, her only path to advancement now gone. What should she do in the days to come?

“Remember this: if you act with despair and a reckless, defeated heart, you are certain to fail! We cultivators must advance relentlessly, with unwavering resolve to win. Only then can we achieve twice the result with half the effort.”

At his words, Lin Qing’s body trembled as if struck by a thunderbolt; she regained her senses without knowing when she’d left the chamber.

After watching Lin Qing depart, Lu Qian sat cross-legged. The dragonish instincts that had just been stirring in his heart gradually faded. Only after a long while did he open his eyes.

Lu Qian was no upright gentleman—he hadn’t been in his past life, and he certainly wasn’t in this one. He tended to view matters through the lens of profit. He didn’t reject dual cultivation—as long as it benefited his path, he could accept anything. What he couldn’t accept was dual cultivation for mere lust. Its purpose was to harmonize yin and yang, drawing on each other’s strengths—a means to advance one’s cultivation. If it was done solely for carnal satisfaction, one would fall into the demonic path, lost in indulgence. He disliked feelings he could not control.

Finishing his energy work, Lu Qian stood, attaching a thread of divine intent to a paper effigy, and sent it out the door. A few days ago, Yu Ci and the others had sent word. He hadn’t been able to get away then, but now he could send the paper figure to take a look.

At the Hall of Law Enforcement, Yu Ci was polishing her sword, a white cloth tied around her right shoulder, faint traces of blood seeping through. Tang Bing, her head hooded, stood silently behind her. Through a gap, one could faintly see the right side of her face was blackened, as if burned by fire. Once cheerful, the two now seemed somber.

Seeing Lu Qian approach, Tang Bing managed a weak smile. She wore the priest’s headscarf now, having become a Daoist as well.

“Fellow Daoist, long time no see,” Yu Ci said, forcing a smile onto her cold face.

Environment can subtly shape people. After spending too long in the grim, chilly Hall of the Dark Mysteries, one could not help but take on a little of its gloom.

“Here are your medicines.” Lu Qian handed over several thick oil-paper packets.

“Thank you.” Yu Ci accepted the parcels, looking embarrassed. “I only have fifteen merit points left.”

This last mission had nearly cost her everything—her purse was truly empty.

“You can owe the rest for now; settle it when you return.” Lu Qian waved a hand. Fifteen merit points was enough to break even—the rest he would count as a favor.

“A favor given in dire need is a debt for life. One day, we will repay it!” Both women rose and bowed deeply.

After parting with them, Lu Qian headed for the rear mountain, where he met Li Du, looking stern.

“Eh? Didn’t Lin Qing come to see you?” Li Du stroked his beard in surprise.

“My matters I will handle myself, Master—you needn’t worry,” Lu Qian replied with a wry smile.

Li Du chuckled, drained his wine, and said, “Your resolve on the path is firm. I thought you might be tempted—truly, you are a man to behold.”

“Master, were you testing me? What do you mean?” Lu Qian was baffled. Usually, Li Du busied himself with pharmacy affairs or drank in solitude—why this scene today?

“In truth, I have your best interests at heart. Lin Qing’s vital yin is unbroken, her nature gentle—she complements you. She’d make a fine Daoist companion. If there are flowers to pick, pick them now—don’t wait till the branches are barren…”

Lu Qian shook his head. “No, a Daoist partner is a companion on the path to immortality, supporting each other. Lin Qing has a good temperament and is not uncomely, but our cultivation levels differ too much. If only one gives and the other receives, there will be trouble in time.”

As he spoke, Lu Qian noticed Li Du’s expression grew distant, tinged with sorrowful reminiscence. When their eyes met, Li Du masked his feelings, cleared his throat, and said,

“My end is near…”