Chapter 83: The Cauldron's Demonic Seed

Lu Qian once again inexplicably followed the man in black outside.

More than that, he was astonished to discover that the pitch-black lotus at his neck had vanished without a trace.

They walked through the long spiral staircase, leaving behind that stifling place.

At the entrance to the great hall stood a middle-aged man dressed in feathered robes.

"Lu Qian, you’re all right," the man said with a smile.

"Greetings, Master Steward," Lu Qian replied, cupping his fists in salute.

This was none other than Fang Su, the steward of the Artifact Hall.

Lu Qian was filled with doubt. Could it be that Fang Su had protected him? Was it because he was Li Du's disciple? Lu Qian thought this unlikely. In strict terms, he had offended the Daoist Tongyou. Even as one of the Eight Stewards, Fang Su would hardly have much sway before Tongyou.

"They didn’t give you any trouble inside, did they?" Fang Su handed over a dust-colored cloth pouch—Lu Qian’s Heaven-Gourd Pouch, which had been confiscated when he was detained.

"No, thank you for your concern, Steward," Lu Qian replied.

Fang Su paused, then said, "Come with me."

With that, he turned and strode out of the hall.

Once they left the gloomy, oppressive hall, the light was much brighter. The Tongyou Monastery was shrouded in mist and gloom throughout the year. Only faint shafts of light filtered through the towering ancient trees. Even so, it was much brighter than inside the Hall of Punishment. That place was nothing short of hell on earth. Just thinking of that sinister, terrifying Yaksha Ghost King sent a wave of oppression through his heart.

"The pressure of a Dao Foundation cultivator is truly overwhelming," Lu Qian thought. The word 'Foundation' in 'Dao Foundation Realm' made it sound weak, but in fact, the foundation of the Dao was being forged. Those who had fused their spirit and vital energy to form the Dao Foundation physique could live five hundred years. Each Dao Foundation physique possessed its own arcane abilities; for example, the hall master's Yellow Springs Yaksha Ghost King cultivated a Yellow Springs Vital Energy of Defiled Divine Light. With a single breath, he could shroud over ten miles, defiling all within. Where he passed, all became a ghostly realm of the netherworld, and destroying a city of tens of thousands would be effortless.

Very soon, the two of them, one in front and one behind, passed through the forest and descended from the mountain where the Hall of Punishment stood.

Suddenly, there were many more people about.

There were grim Daoist priests skilled in exorcism, corpse handlers who manipulated zombies, and diminutive boys and girls. The most numerous by far were the menial Daoist acolytes.

This year, there were quite a few new faces.

Lu Qian followed behind Fang Su, as the crowd parted to avoid them. At first, it was because of Fang Su, but soon they realized something was amiss. All eyes were on Lu Qian; people whispered and exchanged glances.

Lu Qian focused his senses and listened—indeed, they were discussing him.

"He doesn’t look like a ruthless or treacherous sort. Are you sure it’s him?"

"No mistake. I saw him myself before he was taken in."

"What a formidable renegade Daoist—slaying a Spirit-Nurturing official while still in the Qi Refining stage. That’s a rare sight."

"A dangerous man. Best keep away from him in the future."

The Daoists whispered among themselves. Though each of them was usually a cold and sinister figure, with hands stained more or less with blood, their victims were mostly commoners or acolytes. None dared, like Lu Qian, to kill a Spirit-Nurturing steward outright—and then walk free from the hands of the Law Hall enforcers. His strength and background were clearly formidable; best not to provoke such a man.

Lu Qian could only smile wryly to himself. Was this what it meant to earn a fearsome reputation? In just a few days, everyone—Daoists and acolytes alike—knew his name.

"By the way, Steward Fang, thank you for saving me," Lu Qian ventured.

"Don’t thank me. It was the Hall Master who pleaded on your behalf. I had no say in the matter," Fang Su replied, looking somewhat dispirited.

"The Hall Master?" Lu Qian immediately realized—was it not Liu Ruyi? Why would Liu Ruyi intercede for him? Most likely, Li Du had struck some sort of bargain with her.

At this thought, Lu Qian felt a bitter taste in his heart. A man forced to beg the woman who had betrayed him—there could be no humiliation greater than this.

Ever since entering this world of cultivation, Lu Qian had found everyone he met to be cunning, selfish, and treacherous—people like Mo Liang, Li Mingyou, Ma Heng, and the rest. When interests were at stake, their knives were drawn in an instant. Even Li Du had ulterior motives when he took Lu Qian as a disciple, perhaps using him as a shield or a distraction for others. But today, he truly had done Lu Qian a great service, saving him from utter annihilation; otherwise, his only fate would have been to possess a paper effigy and start cultivating anew. Yet what price had been paid for this favor?

As if sensing the question in Lu Qian’s mind, Fang Su spoke slowly:

"Have you heard of the Heart-Seed Demon Art?"

Seeing Lu Qian’s confusion, Fang Su explained, "It’s the technique responsible for the mark on your neck when you were detained."

"The practitioner of the Lotus of the Demon Heart-Seed Technique plants a demon seed in the target—known as the 'furnace.' At a particular moment, the demon seed blooms; the practitioner’s power soars, while the furnace’s life essence is drained and they die."

The lotus blooms when the furnace’s Dao heart is flawed—whether through torment or their own willing submission. Once the condition is met, the lotus blooms.

The stronger and more resolute the furnace, the greater the power returned to the practitioner when the Dao heart is shattered.

"So, my master is being used as a furnace," Lu Qian thought in shock, unable to believe it. Li Du had only a few years left to live anyway, but the cost was still too great.

"Yes. They should be returning to Medicine Mountain now," Fang Su said, his expression tinged with reminiscence. "Back then, Senior Brother Li was exceptionally gifted—he mastered swordplay, alchemy, and artifact crafting with ease. He was the most talented among our generation. When I first joined, a particularly sinister Daoist wanted to use me for pill experiments, but Senior Brother Li intervened and saved my life. Otherwise, I’d have died young. All of us who entered as acolytes back then received his help in one way or another. Though his talent was high, he never put on airs. A truly good man—unfortunately, not fit for this sect."

The ruthless Tongyou Monastery could accommodate anyone—bandits, thieves, villains, hypocrites—but not good men. Here, being a good man was a slur; it only made one a victim of treachery.

What happened afterward was as Lu Qian had learned: Li Du survived not out of the mercy of Tongyou or Liu Ruyi, but because he had too many supporters among the sect, and the leadership was divided. Moreover, the truth behind it all was too shameful to see daylight, and Tongyou dared not act openly against the younger generation, so the matter dragged on until now.

"I see. Where am I to go next?" Lu Qian asked.

"Your life is spared, but punishment awaits; you’ll be locked in the Cave of Shadowfire for ten years, enduring the torment of blazing flames. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t come to real harm—at worst, some superficial wounds."

Lu Qian sneered inwardly. As expected, the Hall Master’s faction would not let him off so easily. Ten years was more than enough time for all manner of schemes. How much of Li Du’s past credit would still shelter him? Perhaps in a few years, he would be seeded with a demon lotus and die a sudden, violent death.

At that moment, a chill wind blew past. A thick black mist surged forth. Tongyou Monastery was built upon a place of utmost yin, and when the yin energy surged, the mist grew as dense as it was now.

When the mist faded, Lu Qian’s face turned deathly pale, as white as paper.

"Hmm?" Fang Su’s eyes widened.