Chapter Sixty: Ling Yaozi

“This is a crab,” the old man said with a solemn expression.

Zhou Yu nodded to show he understood.

“It’s a male crab. You can tell by the triangular shape of its abdomen,” the old man pointed to the crab.

Zhou Yu continued to nod, then asked, almost involuntarily, “And then?”

“That’s all there is to it.” The old man pulled out a wine flask and began to drink.

Only then did Zhou Yu realize he’d been played by the old man; the truth was, he didn’t know anything about the crab’s origins either. Besides his penchant for storytelling, the old man’s air of seriousness while bluffing was impeccable.

After giving the old man a scornful glare, Zhou Yu said, “Master, do you think this might just be something the beast cauldron’s maker carved out of boredom?”

The old man took a sip of wine and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “It’s quite possible. Typically, though, the name engraved on the base is that of the craftsman who forged the cauldron. To carve a picture on it like this is rare.”

Rare, yes, but not impossible. Zhou Yu pondered. The Four Sacred Beasts were all renowned—this crab could never be on their level. He let his thoughts wander a bit more, feeling the food in his stomach had almost digested, and then stood up. He greeted the old man, saying he was going to cultivate, and walked out.

Within the Spirit Realm, there were dedicated spaces for cultivators to train—not mystical realms or elaborate arrays, but broad, secluded spaces. Generally, cultivators did not disturb one another except when sparring. Each would find a spot and begin their own practice: some sat cross-legged, nurturing their minds and adjusting their inner energy, while others unleashed attacks, honing their combat skills.

Zhou Yu believed that the fastest way to improve was through battle. Only in the peril of combat could abilities and skills truly advance, and only then would they prove practical.

In battle, victory was often decided in a single strike—who ever heard of those endless three-hundred-round duels that never reach a conclusion? Even if the powers were equal, the combat style, one’s state at the time, the environment, wind direction—all could greatly affect the outcome. Masters never missed an opportunity; any mistake could be fatal. Zhou Yu knew this well. During his battle with Morrison, had they not colluded to stage a fight and had Zhou Yu’s arms not been so formidable, it would have been impossible to duel for so long.

Thus, Zhou Yu’s daily practice focused on three things: first, mastering the clone technique taught by Hua Queyue; second, relentless sword swings, chasing speed and precision; third, slow sword, training himself to anticipate others’ attack paths.

At night, Zhou Yu, with the help of Du Niang, would attempt to open his meridians bit by bit. He cultivated almost every day and night, with only three hours of rest each day. Fortunately, with Du Niang’s assistance, he could enter deep sleep quickly; otherwise, even the most resilient would buckle under such strain.

Day after day, Zhou Yu pressed on, undeterred by wind or rain.

Unbeknownst to him, two months had already passed. The envoys of various factions had left for home a month and a half earlier.

News occasionally arrived from the front: the movements of the demon race and the results of battles fought by the allied forces. Thanks to the alliance, humanity had finally managed to halt the advance of the demon race; now they faced each other in a stalemate.

According to Nan Feng Lang’s reports, the restless Beast Sect had the entire alliance on edge. The alliance was fully committed to resisting the demon race, and apart from the Nan Feng clan, there was no strength left to guard against the Beast Sect. Fortunately, the Nan Feng clan was powerful and deep-rooted, able to suppress the Beast Sect for now—otherwise, the situation would deteriorate rapidly.

On the traversers’ side, Abu Li had fully recovered. He practiced daily, and his cultivation speed was astonishing. The pale yellow glow that had appeared once in the sparring match now shone more frequently around him. Currently, his strength surpassed even the diligent Zhou Yu. Jin Buhuan and Tian Xing had studied that yellow glow together, but found nothing useful—it seemed to be a mysterious power that ceaselessly absorbed external energy, strengthening Abu Li’s body.

Since Morrison’s departure, all the Western traversers followed Jack. Before leaving, Morrison had urged Jack to stay close to Abu Li. At the time, Jack had not cared, but as Abu Li’s power grew, his status among the traversers rose as well. After failing to defeat Abu Li, Jack sincerely followed him. After all, they were all from Earth, and more importantly, Abu Li possessed a unique innocence and benevolence that won over all the traversers.

Aside from the Spirit Realm’s food, which had grown a bit tiresome, everything else seemed well. As usual, Zhou Yu, after eating his fill, went to his usual training spot to begin another day’s cultivation.

The midsummer sun was glaring and scorching. Zhou Yu, bare-chested, swung his massive iron sword again and again, sweat soaking the earth around him. His sun-darkened skin gleamed with sweat.

After the eleven thousand three hundred sixty-seventh swing, Zhou Yu stopped, wiped his face, and was about to drink some water when he noticed an old man nearby—he had no idea when the elder had arrived.

Zhou Yu looked at the old man, who was watching him as well. When the old man realized Zhou Yu had seen him, he smiled warmly and nodded.

The elder wore a scholar’s robe, his hair and beard white, but his spirit lively. In a nod and a smile, he radiated elegance, like an immortal. Zhou Yu’s mind suddenly produced a name—Ling Youzi.

This refined elder was none other than Ling Youzi, master of the Spirit Realm. He had left the realm to seek out the legendary omniscient genius Nangong Wen for the sake of the Child of Destiny, and now, he had finally returned.

Upon his return, after understanding the events that had transpired, Ling Youzi decided to personally observe the traversers. Zhou Yu was neither the first nor the last he observed. In fact, though Zhou Yu’s fame had spread after the tournament, in the eyes of someone as powerful as Ling Youzi, it was no different from children playing games. He simply observed the traversers at random.

“Greetings, Master of the Realm!” Zhou Yu quickly saluted upon guessing the elder’s identity. It wasn’t out of calculation, but genuine respect for the strong.

“No need for formalities. Zhou Yu, you were first in the tournament, so by convention you are to be my disciple. From now on, you are junior to Hua Queyue and the others,” Ling Youzi said as he approached Zhou Yu, his speech slow but clear.

Zhou Yu was at a loss, not immediately rejoicing or kneeling, all because of the old man.

After a moment’s thought, Zhou Yu cupped his hands and said, “I already have a master.”

Ling Youzi was momentarily stunned. In all these years, no one had refused to be his disciple. But such a powerful figure could hardly be bothered by such a trivial matter.

“No problem. Respecting one’s elders is one of the most important virtues. Your sincerity is commendable. Having a master does not preclude you from being my disciple. In fact, apprenticing under several masters is not unusual in this world—each has their strengths,” Ling Youzi smiled gently at Zhou Yu.

Now it was Zhou Yu’s turn to be surprised. He had worried about offending this immortal-like figure, but the man was so reasonable. Upon reflection, it made sense: how could the master of the Spirit Realm, recognized by all cultivators, be petty?

So Zhou Yu performed the apprentice’s ceremony according to the teachings of the Path of Rebirth. Having lived in this world nearly half a year, Zhou Yu was already familiar with most customs and rules.

“I’ve already learned of your situation from Hua Queyue, and have just probed your body as well. You possess a rare constitution, but don’t lose heart. With effort, anything is possible. And you have a unique advantage that ordinary people cannot claim. Though you can hardly advance levels, once you do, your actual power will far surpass those of your rank—even those several levels above may not be your equal. I believe you’ve already realized this.”

Ling Youzi gently stroked his snow-white beard and continued, “Currently, you are only at the demon soldier rank, but at full power you possess the strength of a demon general. When you reach the demon general level, your full power will be equal to a demon king. You are the strongest demon soldier cultivator in history, and soon, the strongest demon general.”

Zhou Yu’s heart stirred at these words. Why had he never thought of such an advantage? He resolved then and there to work even harder, for his goal was to reach the summit of power and return to Earth.

Ling Youzi drew a brocade box from his sleeve and handed it to Zhou Yu. “Inside are three Meridian Stabilizing Pills. Hua Queyue relied on them to open the meridians in her arms. Now, you have managed to open both arms on your own; these three pills should be enough to open the rest of your meridians.”

Zhou Yu accepted the pills without pretense. To feign reluctance would be hypocritical, and he truly needed such spiritual medicine. For two months, he and Du Niang had worked tirelessly night after night, trying various methods. Despite having inner vision and Du Niang’s guidance, he had nearly ruptured his meridians recently. Luckily, they managed to avert disaster. With these pills, his journey to open his meridians would be much smoother.

“Thank you, Master.” He expressed sincere gratitude upon receiving the Meridian Stabilizing Pills. Though not the most precious of medicines, demand for them was extremely rare, and their manufacture highly complex. Ruined meridians meant ruined cultivation, and few dared forcefully to open them. Thus, the recipe was nearly lost. To consume one meant one less in the world.

Ling Youzi was very fond of Zhou Yu’s temperament and continued chatting with him.

Their conversation naturally turned to cultivation. Zhou Yu asked, Ling Youzi answered.

After receiving guidance from a master of Ling Youzi’s caliber, Zhou Yu’s understanding of cultivation principles, methods, and his own mindset improved vastly. Many of his doubts were resolved by Ling Youzi’s patient explanations.

As the sun set, fiery clouds hung in the sky, and the summer breeze brought coolness throughout the Spirit Realm. Colorful birds, having finished their day’s foraging, joyfully returned to their nests. Everything was peaceful and serene.

Standing on the meadow, Zhou Yu’s heart was tranquil. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature with his soul and feeling the changes and flow of air with his body. Though he stood conspicuously, he gradually seemed to merge with his surroundings.

After half a day’s guidance from Ling Youzi—much as after Hua Queyue’s previous instruction—Zhou Yu again entered a state of meditation.

But unlike Hua Queyue, Ling Youzi left, not remaining by Zhou Yu’s side to protect him. He simply left a trace of his consciousness with Zhou Yu.

Time passed unnoticed. The bright moon hung high, casting its radiance across the land. The birds in the forest had fallen silent, save for a few males who, failing to mate during the day, chirped restlessly at night. Along with the chorus of insects, it was as though an orchestra were performing.

A figure appeared near Zhou Yu, staring intently at him. Yet Zhou Yu remained deep in meditation. With the insect chorus, the figure gradually approached Zhou Yu.