Chapter Fifty: A Heart-to-Heart Between Master and Disciple, the Netherworld's Shadowy Seal

"Hmm?" Lu Qian was somewhat surprised. Li Du appeared to be in his prime; cultivators in the Qi Refining stage generally lived about a hundred and fifty years. It was said Li Du had joined the sect very early—could it be...?

Noticing Lu Qian's puzzled look, Li Du nodded slightly. "That's right. I've just passed a hundred and fifty. Lately, my health has been declining. I must pass on all I've learned before it's too late."

"So you sent Lin Qing to test me?" Lu Qian finally understood.

"Indeed. If you accept Lin Qing as your disciple, then after my death, you will inherit my position and all my assets. You'd become a mid- to lower-level steward. The rank is modest, but the life is leisurely."

"And if I refuse?" Lu Qian asked curiously.

"If you refuse, you get nothing..." Li Du's smile was cold and sinister. "But I will give you a chance to transcend."

"I've looked into your past. You rose from obscurity, first joining a temple at the mountain's foot. Because you didn't fit in, you were bullied, but you endured, bided your time, and eventually killed them all."

"A chance to transcend?" Lu Qian was not the least bit surprised.

It was no wonder others knew of this. Though he had killed everyone in the temple, he'd spared the guards outside. Anyone conducting a thorough investigation could piece together what had happened from the battle's traces. This did not alarm Lu Qian in the slightest.

Mo Liang hadn't even belonged to Tongyou Temple. And with his cultivation merely at the Embryonic Breath stage, no one would bother seeking justice for a dead man.

Li Du said nothing, continuing, "You possess a mature mind. Outwardly calm, yet inwardly, you're restless. You enjoy dancing on the razor's edge, gambling with your life, and savoring the thrill of snatching victory—and life—from your enemies."

"And what has that to do with transcendence?" Lu Qian retorted. He hadn't expected Li Du to have studied him so thoroughly.

"Because all advanced cultivation methods are held by the Master of Tongyou. He can control your progress. Once you reach Spirit Nurturing, you must swear a blood oath to the sect before you can receive further teachings or be entrusted with important positions."

This was, of course, to safeguard the sect leader's authority. By keeping the most vital techniques to himself, he ensured no subordinate could secretly surpass him. The higher one's cultivation, the less possible it was to switch methods; the fetters only tightened.

The Master of Tongyou had shown no signs of overreaching ambition for now. Yet the prospect of one's future being held in another's palm was difficult to stomach.

"So, you're offering me a complete path of cultivation?" Lu Qian asked, his expression unchanging.

"Yes."

Li Du was taken aback by his composure. He'd expected Lu Qian to be deeply interested, but the man remained impassive. What Li Du didn't know was—

Ever since Wanshou's words, Lu Qian had quietly prepared a retreat for himself—that was the Dragonfish Body Refining Art. If necessary, he'd find an excuse to defect, becoming a wandering cultivator elsewhere.

"So, you wish to make a deal with me? What do you require in return?" Lu Qian asked.

Night had fallen; a thin mist rose over Medicine Mountain. Strands of moonlight pierced the ever-present haze, spilling across the earth. The fickle moonlight cast shifting shadows across their faces, making their expressions difficult to read.

"Yes, a deal. And what I ask of you is simple." Li Du's voice was more solemn than ever.

"Only now do you lay your cards on the table. Clearly you didn't trust me before," Lu Qian laughed.

For a man in charge of the pharmacy, Li Du spent his days scheming to escape the sect's bonds—his ambitions were clearly substantial.

"That's right," Li Du nodded. "And I never truly trusted you, either. Ha!"

The mists parted; the two exchanged a smile. Only now did they truly trust one another. In the past, the so-called deep affection between master and disciple had been half genuine, half feigned. Lu Qian was no exception. His earlier experiences had taught him to be wary of all things—especially in a sect like Tongyou, where intrigue and fratricide were commonplace. How could an elder who had survived a hundred years here possibly open his heart to anyone so easily?

Still, Lu Qian knew that whatever the other's intentions, he would accept whatever benefits came his way.

"Haha, this cup is my apology to you," Li Du said, draining his wine.

"And my thanks for your instruction during this time," Lu Qian replied, emptying his cup as well.

Whatever else might be said, Li Du had taught him something new.

"Now let me be forthright," Li Du said, waving his hand.

A black membrane enveloped them both, shutting out the outside world and ensuring their conversation could not be overheard.

"Please, go on," Lu Qian said, sitting upright. He felt no aversion to such transactions. In the adult world, pure emotion was rare; apart from one's closest kin, few gave without expectation. Most relationships were built on mutual benefit. In the mortal world, exchanges of interest were inescapable.

Li Du summarized his own life story.

Throughout, his expression was blank, as if the protagonist were someone else. At first Lu Qian was surprised, then moved to pity. He hadn't imagined Li Du had once possessed such astounding talent. Nor could he help but marvel at the methods of the woman named Liu Ruyi—how, with only a third-rate talent, she had ascended to the head of the Spirit Treasure Hall. Such cunning was truly extraordinary.

At the same time, a sense of crisis took root in his heart. It seemed Li Du had pulled him onto a pirate ship.

According to Li Du, the reason he'd taken Lu Qian as a disciple in the first place was to set up a scapegoat and buy himself time. Later, discovering Lu Qian's rebellious nature, he decided to reveal everything.

"Surely after all these years, they're no longer targeting you?" Lu Qian asked. After all, their cultivation far surpassed his; what could a mere Qi Refining cultivator offer them?

"They've kept me under loose yet constant surveillance all these years. Never once have they relaxed their watch," Li Du replied, a strange light glinting in his eyes. For a moment, a cyan hue flickered across his face.

Suddenly, he opened his right palm, where a mass of jade-green ghostly fire formed a half-transparent, intricate talisman, suspended in the air. The entire charm glowed emerald, ghostly flames writhing upon its surface, its design so bizarre and complex it was difficult to comprehend—part demon, part ghost, part mountains and rivers, part birds and beasts. It was dozens of times more complicated than any talisman Lu Qian had seen before.

Just a glance flooded his mind with an overwhelming torrent of information, as if he were plunging into a dreamscape crowded with countless terrifying, unimaginable phantasms.

"Awaken!" Li Du commanded in a low voice.

"What is that?" Lu Qian asked, still shaken.

"This is the Netherworld Seal of Yellow Springs, which I obtained during the last but one opening of the Underworld Gate."

Talismans were the ancient script used by the earliest people to commune with the heavens, drawing upon the power of nature. Each race had its own language—humans had talismans, demons had demon marks, devils had their own runes. With so many paths, so many races, each script had different properties.

The Netherworld Seal of Yellow Springs was the writing used by creatures of the Underworld.