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Chapter 290: The Ancient Yin Warship, Shengyan Academy, and the Rare Sound Dragonstone
🕑 Added 2024-12-14 10:39:52 +0000 UTCFengdu, widely regarded as the most prosperous city under heaven, was in Zhao Xing's eyes the most terrifying place in the world.
First, because of its people.
Here resided Emperor Jing himself.
The role of an emperor was extraordinarily unique.
As the sovereign of a Fortune Dynasty, Emperor Jing's baseline strength was beyond the First Rank, requiring no divine artifacts to manifest his unparalleled might.
Bearing the Fortune of the Nineteen Provinces, Emperor Jing’s Fortune was at Derivation Ten at minimum, with records showing Emperor Wu had once reached a staggering Derivation Twelve.
The emperor also carried the karmic ties of the countless lives within the Nineteen Provinces.
The higher Zhao Xing climbed in rank, the more pronounced his karmic connection with Emperor Jing became, meaning the emperor might glimpse fragments of Zhao Xing's future.
Of course, this was only a possibility. As King Tianyan had said, potential futures were not a basis for promotion. Even if Emperor Jing foresaw something ominous, he wouldn’t use it as grounds to eliminate an official.
In the Era of Primordial Qi, emperors were less formidable. Their connection to karma and the souls of others meant they had past and future sight, but also distinct flaws.
Because of their massive karmic burden, an emperor who perished wouldn’t even leave behind a soul; they would dissolve entirely into nothingness.
Moreover, emperors couldn’t casually leave Fengdu.
That was why Zhao Xing, whether in the Heavenly Heart Hall or prefectural shrines, had never encountered the spiritual remnants of Taizu or Emperor Wen.
Yet Zhao Xing wasn’t willing to take unnecessary risks. Before entering Tianyong Prefecture, he had sealed his Memory Palace entirely.
He would only unlock it after leaving Tianyong Prefecture.
The second terror lay in Fengdu’s location.
Fengdu, phonetically akin to Shandu, was rumored in ancient times to be the boundary between Yin and Yang. It housed the largest Yin-Yang gateway in all Nineteen Provinces.
The capital was established in Tianyong Prefecture primarily to suppress and control the Netherworld. This was the material foundation of the Yin God system.
However, after Emperor Wu’s reign, the imbalance of Yin and Yang resulted in nearly every emperor dying prematurely, rarely reigning for a full century.
Thus, the position of emperor, though powerful, came with immense burdens.
The only solution to these problems was ascension.
If the dynasty ascended, the emperor’s burdens would be resolved.
Any emperor with aspirations would strive for their dynasty’s ascension.
“Zhao Xing, stop resting. Get to work,” King Tianyan called from outside.
“Coming.” Zhao Xing rose and left his room.
Their current residence was a public villa in Fengjing.
King Tianyan hadn’t even allowed Zhao Xing two full days of rest before eagerly seeking him out.
“After visiting the Heavenly God Temple, there are several more places you’ll need to visit,” King Tianyan instructed.
“What other places?” Zhao Xing asked, surprised.
“Now that you’re at the Third Rank, your circumstances have changed,” King Tianyan explained, adjusting Zhao Xing’s itinerary accordingly.
The Heavenly Mystery Pavilion had always intended to assign Zhao Xing missions.
King Tianyan was well aware of the shortcomings Zhao Xing revealed during his trials in Canghai Cave-Heaven.
The training for a Fourth Rank was entirely different from that of a Third Rank.
“Yes, I will follow Your Highness’s instructions,” Zhao Xing replied deferentially.
“Let’s go.”
Fengjing’s temple complexes included the Imperial Ancestral Temple, the Heroic Spirit Shrine, the Martial Temple, and the Heavenly God Temple.
Where there were temples in Fengjing, there were also mausoleums.
True Monarch Tianyang, upon his death, was interred next to Emperor Wen, near the Western Imperial Mausoleum.
There were two options for offering respects to True Monarch Tianyang. One was the Southern Temple Complex of Fengjing, where the Temple of True Monarch Tianyang was located. The temple was similar to those in prefectural cities, only grander.
Both official ceremonies and public worship were conducted at the Southern Temple Complex.
The second option was the western mausoleum. This housed both True Monarch Tianyang’s tomb and a shrine for his descendants to perform ancestral rites.
Zhao Xing was headed to the western mausoleum, as True Monarch Tianyang had specifically summoned him to Fengjing.
Otherwise, anything important would have been given to him during their encounter at the prefectural city.
But visiting the mausoleum required first paying a formal call to the Fu family.
“True Monarch Tianyang hailed from the Fourth Liu District of Fengjing. In the second generation, he had four sons and five daughters.”
“However, by the third generation, his descendants numbered over a hundred.”
“By the fourth generation, the great-grandchildren surpassed three thousand.”
“Now, those who multiplied quickly have reached the forty-first generation,” King Tianyan explained.
Zhao Xing nodded. True Monarch Tianyang was born during Emperor Wen’s middle reign and passed away in the middle of the Yong’an Period, spanning the reigns of Emperor Wen and Emperor Jing.
From the birth of his first son to the present, over fourteen hundred years had passed.
Not all descendants turned out well. By the third generation, some had faded into obscurity.
Those with no achievements in cultivation or officialdom tended to marry and bear children earlier.
Emotionally, ties usually weakened after five generations.
Even Ji Zixuan, a granddaughter of King Chenglan, had little impression of her grandfather before coming of age.
King Chenglan had only seen her twice before she joined the Bishui Dao Academy.
Later, her efforts earned her a County Princess title, and after years of growing closer, she finally became a true member of King Chenglan’s household.
Legally, descendants beyond five generations were no longer implicated in ancestral faults.
Even in cases of family extermination, pursuing ties beyond five generations was rare.
Of course, there were exceptions, such as King Liang, whose lineage was practically wiped out.
“The Fu family branch residing in Fengjing still has two fourth-generation great-grandchildren of True Monarch Tianyang alive: Fu Xingwen and Fu Xingwu.”
“Fu Xingwu is reasonably accomplished, having earned military merits during the Dingxin Era, ascending to the title of Marquis Xingwu and reaching the rank of Fourth Rank Senior.”
“Fu Xingwen, a Fourth Rank Senior civil official, also holds a marquisate but is only an honorary marquis.”
“As for the fifth generation, there are no particularly notable figures.”
Ordinarily, having an ancestor who once served as Grand Shennong should have ensured the family’s prosperity.
However, this depended on the ancestor’s disposition.
It was clear True Monarch Tianyang wasn’t inclined to secure advantages for his descendants.
That said, by contemporary standards, the Fu family was still a respectable lineage. With Fourth Rank officials in both civil and military roles and substantial landholdings, they were a minor aristocracy, though not among the elite.
During Emperor Jing’s reign, their influence was modest.
The Fu family’s mansion from Emperor Wen’s era, a former Duke’s estate in Fengjing’s eastern district, was a sprawling, prime property.
Later, they voluntarily relocated to the southern district, downgrading to a marquisate.
To pay a visit without prior notice would be considered abrupt.
Thus, Zhao Xing rested for a day to prepare a visitation card.
Upon receiving the card, Fu Xingwen quickly prepared the mansion, declining all other visitors for the day.
When Zhao Xing and King Tianyan arrived at the southern district’s marquisate, Fu Xingwen was already waiting at the entrance.
“Greetings to King Tianyan and Marquis Shenwei,” Fu Xingwen said with a deep bow.
“Marquis Wenxing, no need for formalities,” Zhao Xing replied with a courteous salute.
Inside the Fu residence, only a few polite exchanges were made before moving to the matter at hand.
Zhao Xing’s intentions had been detailed in his visitation card.
The two weren’t well-acquainted, and their age difference was significant. Moreover, King Tianyan’s stern demeanor discouraged extended pleasantries.
Who would dare cultivate familiarity in the presence of a Fate Officer?
Officials rarely made house calls. When they did, it was usually to confiscate property or execute a clan.
“All the necessary offerings have been prepared and are already at the mausoleum,” Fu Xingwen said.
“A flying vessel is also ready to depart at your convenience,” he added.
“Thank you for your efforts, Marquis Wenxing,” Zhao Xing replied with a bow.
“It is but a small matter. Please, this way.”
“Please.”
True Monarch Tianyang’s ancestral shrine was situated south of the western mausoleum.
Etiquette dictated that Zhao Xing first visit Emperor Wen’s shrine.
Only members of the Ji royal family were permitted to enter the Imperial Ancestral Temple for worship. However, there was a secondary shrine outside the temple for officials to pay respects.
The ceremony was straightforward, requiring only a single incense offering.
King Tianyan, however, had a different obligation.
Since he was already there, he couldn’t neglect paying respects to his uncle.
Thus, King Tianyan entered the ancestral temple while Zhao Xing, guided by the mausoleum’s ceremonial officer, proceeded to True Monarch Tianyang’s shrine.
“Marquis Shenwei, we will wait outside. If you need anything, just call us.”
“Thank you.” Zhao Xing stepped into the shrine.
Everything was already prepared.
The traditional three-offering ritual was laid out: a pig’s head, a cow’s head, and a sheep’s head.
The six ceremonial jade items—Bi, Cong, Gui, Zhang, Huang, and Hu—are crafted according to the stipulations found in The Rites of Zhou (Spring Officer, Grand Ancestral Rites). These jade artifacts serve as offerings to heaven and earth, symbolizing the reverence to the four cardinal directions.
The green Bi for honoring heaven.
The yellow Cong for honoring earth.
The azure Gui for the east.
The crimson Zhang for the south.
The white Hu for the west.
The black Huang for the north.
Each piece of jade contains "sacrificial currency" within—polished artifacts shaped from ox horns, deer antlers, ivory, and shells. While largely symbolic, these "shadow coins" aren't functional currency within the Yin Realm. People sometimes substitute fruits or other offerings when formal sacrificial tokens are unavailable, though some omit them altogether.
Next came the five incense offerings: Agarwood, Sandalwood, Storax, Musk, and Ambergris. The origins and timing of these incenses are meticulously chosen, ranging from decades-old materials to items harvested during specific lunar periods.
This, however, is merely the simplified process. In ancient traditions, preparations involved abstaining from fire-cooked meals, cleansing rituals, and extended prayers before the sacrifice. This ceremonial burden eventually led Chancellor Wei Xuancheng to advocate abolishing ancestral temples, citing their extravagant waste of resources and hindrance to labor.
A faint hiss broke Zhao Xing’s focus as he kindled the incense. Lifting his gaze, he saw Tianyang True Lord perched atop the shrine, puffing on an incense stick with evident satisfaction.
“Shizun,” Zhao Xing greeted him.
“My disciple, you've finally made it!” Tianyang True Lord exhaled contentedly, smoke swirling as he spoke. “It took you half a year to travel from Pinghai Province to Tianyong Prefecture.”
“Apologies, Shizun. I was delayed in Daoyuan Continent,” Zhao Xing bowed respectfully.
“No need for apologies,” Tianyang True Lord replied, casually tapping ash into one of the jade vessels—one of the six ceremonial artifacts, now repurposed as an ashtray. The sight almost made Zhao Xing chuckle despite himself.
“You’ve been making waves recently, writing the Two Classics Annotated Collection and the Yin-Yang Self Theory of Natural Laws at Shangluo Academy. News of your accomplishments has even reached the Yin Realm. I've overheard Yin Bureaucrats discussing your work, wishing they could engage you in scholarly debates.”
Zhao Xing's expression stiffened. Yin Bureaucrats? That’s just a polite way of saying ghosts. He forced a smile. “Shizun overpraises me.”
“Not at all,” Tianyang True Lord said, straightening his posture. “Now that you've reached the Primordial Soul stage, it’s time for you to receive something from me, but it resides within the Yin Realm. Originally, I hesitated since it would take significant effort to master before the Third Rank. However, as you’re now ready, let us proceed.”
“Yes, Shizun,” Zhao Xing responded, immediately sitting cross-legged. His Sea of Consciousness stirred, and his Primordial Soul emerged from his body with a fluid motion.
It was Zhao Xing’s first time attempting soul projection. The initial sensation was a distinct chill, yet the warmth of the surrounding incense fires quickly enveloped him.
“Come closer,” Tianyang True Lord gestured. Zhao Xing ascended the altar, where his Shizun placed a firm hand on his shoulder. A radiant light enveloped them, and Zhao Xing’s surroundings morphed into a swirling vortex of green and blue light streaks.
“We’re passing through the barrier between the Yin and Yang Realms,” Tianyang True Lord explained. “It’s particularly thin here. On your own, this would take three Yang hours and two Yin hours.”
Zhao Xing nodded quietly, observing the stark contrast between the two realms’ time calculations. With Tianyang True Lord guiding him, the journey took less than a minute.
“We’re here,” Tianyang True Lord announced, releasing his shoulder.
The vortex dissipated, revealing an opulent palace bathed in resplendent light. Gilded decorations exuded grandeur, while the solemn atmosphere suggested an unwavering authority. Surprisingly, there was none of the eerie gloom Zhao Xing had anticipated from the Yin Realm.
“This is Tianyang Palace—my personal residence in the Yin Realm,” Tianyang True Lord said as he led Zhao Xing outside.
The moment they stepped through the palace gates, a cold, biting wind rushed past. Zhao Xing looked up to see a bleak sky filled with howling gusts. Ethereal green lights danced like auroras to the south, while a faint blue shimmer weaved like silk in the northern expanse. Amid the spectral winds, shadowy figures and colossal, unseen creatures roamed, occasionally revealing glimpses of humanoid shapes clad in official robes or armor.
Following Tianyang True Lord’s lead, Zhao Xing ascended into the sky, gradually taking in the desolate surroundings. The barren ground below seemed void of life, and Tianyang Palace stood alone, a solitary structure amidst the expanse. It was evident that this wasn’t a hub of Yin Realm governance—unlike administrative centers such as the Heavenly Bureaucrats or Earthly Bureaucrats, which were sprawling complexes of interconnected buildings.
As Zhao Xing extended his senses, he noticed the chaotic, unruly flow of Yin Five Elements within the land’s veins. These elements moved erratically, without discernible patterns. Even planting a seed here could result in its sudden displacement thousands of miles away due to these erratic flows. The space itself followed strange temporal and spatial rules.
“Building a stable domain to construct a palace in the Yin Realm isn’t an easy feat,” Zhao Xing remarked.
“Correct,” Tianyang True Lord replied, nodding. “Tianyong Prefecture’s unique conditions amplify these chaotic flows, making it a challenge to establish permanence. This is why most Yin Bureaucrats utilize these flows for rapid travel, transmitting messages or traversing great distances instantaneously. It’s the fastest form of communication.”
He pointed towards the palace grounds. “I initially cultivated certain resources here to enhance a soul's essence. They would’ve been invaluable for elevating your life soul to the mid-Third Rank, but since you've already surpassed that, they’re no longer necessary.”
Zhao Xing followed his Shizun’s gesture to see a small patch of farmland behind the palace. A tranquil pond lay at its center, surrounded by peculiar plants, their forms unlike anything he had encountered before. Vivid flowers with radiant hues and twisted, almost otherworldly stems dominated the landscape.
“These, however, are mere appetizers,” Tianyang True Lord said, his tone turning serious. “What I’m truly giving you is this.” He waved his hand, and a streak of blue light shot from within the palace. When the light settled in his hand, Zhao Xing saw a round disc-like object, shimmering with an iridescent glow.
“What is this, Shizun?” Zhao Xing asked as he examined the disk in his Shizun’s hand. Despite focusing on it intently, he couldn’t discern its purpose. His mental faculties felt blocked, likely due to the memory palace within his Sea of Consciousness being sealed.
“This is the Shangtang Token,” Tianyang True Lord replied.
Zhao Xing’s confusion deepened.
Tianyang True Lord smiled faintly and gestured. “You’ll understand soon enough.”
The dim skies above grew darker, the oppressive atmosphere intensifying. As the cold Yin wind howled, a shadow loomed into view.
At first, Zhao Xing thought it was a flag. Yet, as the figure emerged further, the shadow revealed the form of a bird’s head protruding from the wind. Then came two more banners and the mast supporting them. Moments later, the black silhouette of a ship’s hull appeared.
When the entire object came into view, Zhao Xing gasped in astonishment. “An ancient Yin warship?”
His eyes quickly scanned the flags and hull, noting the intricate symbols and text adorning them. Each flag bore ancient inscriptions, and one of the characters unmistakably read Yin. Additionally, both the ship and flags were adorned with the emblem of the Destiny Blackbird—a design symbolic of the ancient Yin Dynasty.
“Correct,” Tianyang True Lord affirmed. “This is a ship crafted by the Yin Dynasty, designed to traverse the Yin and Yang Realms. Some call it the Ancient Yin Warship, while others refer to it as the Yin-Yang Warship.”
“And the Shangtang Token is used to summon this warship?” Zhao Xing deduced as his gaze lingered on the artifact.
“Yes, precisely. The token can call forth the warship, enabling it to travel between the realms,” Tianyang True Lord explained. “Wherever you are in the Yang Realm, as long as you possess the Shangtang Token, the warship will respond immediately. It tears through the boundary between the Yin and Yang Realms to retrieve you.”
“Its speed is unmatched,” he added. “In the Yin Realm, it moves freely without obstruction. Acquiring this vessel was no easy feat; it took us a significant amount of time and effort to capture one.”
Tianyang True Lord’s tone became prideful as he continued, “This particular warship holds immense value. Judging by its level of craftsmanship, it likely belonged to the royal family of the Yin Dynasty.”
Zhao Xing was stunned, fully grasping the significance of what was before him. “Shizun, something so priceless… you’re giving it to me?”
Tianyang True Lord chuckled lightly. “I’m lending it to you for use—not handing it over entirely. This warship technically belongs to the Shennong Priest of the Yin Realm. After Li Boqian’s death, it fell under their jurisdiction. However, as I remain in charge for now, I’ll allow you to use it.”
He paused, his tone more serious. “You’ll soon journey to the ancient lands of Dragon Court. If you encounter formidable enemies and find no escape route, the Yin Realm remains an option.”
Leading Zhao Xing aboard the ship, Tianyang True Lord elaborated, “This vessel is capable of tearing through the boundary between the Yin and Yang Realms, transporting both your physical body and soul.”
“Once aboard, even a First Rank opponent cannot pursue you. While their souls might chase you into the Yin Realm, their physical bodies cannot. Even in the case of a First Rank Destiny Palace cultivator, catching the Ancient Yin Warship is an impossibility.”
“This allows you to retreat to safety, then return to the Yang Realm by tearing through the boundary once again.”
Zhao Xing was dumbfounded. “This… this changes everything!” he exclaimed, realizing the artifact’s potential.
Indeed, having a means to move his physical body through the Yin Realm was akin to wielding a divine weapon. With his myriad avatars, even if ambushed, he could summon the warship in an instant using the Shangtang Token, board it, and make his escape.
“Most of Dragon Court’s ancient lands fall within its summonable range,” Tianyang True Lord noted. “Now, familiarize yourself with its functions. The warship’s movements within the Yin Realm are unpredictable and chaotic. However, inserting the Shangtang Token into its control mechanism allows you to direct its trajectory.”
He guided Zhao Xing to the bow of the ship, where a rectangular pillar stood tall on the deck—a structure that seemed to house the ship’s primary controls. When Tianyang True Lord inserted the disk into a slot on the pillar, the warship instantly surged forward, slicing through the howling Yin winds.
Tianyang True Lord then grabbed Zhao Xing’s hand, pressing it into a groove on the control mechanism. “Your Primordial Soul will begin perceiving a series of pathways. These are the warship’s operational routes,” he explained. “I’ll teach you how to identify safe trajectories and navigate effectively. But remember—never deviate from the identified paths.”
He continued with a warning, “We’ve yet to fully explore the Ancient Yin Warship’s depths. Do not wander aimlessly aboard. Stay where it’s safe.”
“Yes, Shizun,” Zhao Xing replied obediently, understanding the gravity of the situation.
Over the next seven days, Zhao Xing devoted himself to mastering the basics of operating the warship. With Tianyang True Lord’s guidance, he gained confidence in controlling its movements.
On the seventh day, Tianyang True Lord informed him, “It’s time. As a Third Rank Life Soul cultivator, your body and soul aren’t suited to prolonged stays in the Yin Realm. It’s time for you to return.”
“Yes, Shizun,” Zhao Xing complied, his tone respectful.
As the warship slowed, Tianyang True Lord once again guided Zhao Xing back to the Yang Realm. Before they parted, he added a final reminder, “Your physical body cannot remain aboard the warship for too long. Once you’ve successfully escaped, immediately return to the Yang Realm. Prolonged exposure—beyond seven days—will result in complications.”
“I understand, Shizun,” Zhao Xing affirmed.
Returning to his physical form, Zhao Xing opened his eyes to find the Shangtang Token resting in his palm. The incense that had once filled the shrine was now reduced to faint embers, and Tianyang True Lord’s figure had reverted into the form of a statue.
“Would you like us to add more incense, Lord Shenwei?” a priest from the side hall inquired.
“There’s no need, thank you,” Zhao Xing replied politely as he stored the Shangtang Token and bid farewell to Tianyang True Lord before departing the shrine.
Outside, King Tianyan was waiting impatiently. “What took you so long?” he grumbled. “Did you take a stroll through the Yin Realm?”
“Indeed, I did,” Zhao Xing replied with a faint smile.
“Let’s move on to the next destination,” King Tianyan said, not probing further. Whatever Tianyang True Lord had given Zhao Xing was none of his business.
Their next stop was Shengyan Academy—a sacred ground for ritual studies.
“This will address a critical shortcoming of yours,” King Tianyan explained as they traveled. “Do you recall your performance during the trials at Canghai Cave-Heaven?”
“I remember, but I couldn’t gauge its accuracy,” Zhao Xing admitted. “At the time, scores were concealed to prevent tampering.”
“Your weakest performance was during the Dragon Language Edicts trial,” King Tianyan revealed. “It’s understandable—your practice in this discipline was limited, and your study time was short. That’s why I’ve arranged for specialized instruction.”
“In Shengyan Academy, I’ve secured a mentor for you,” King Tianyan said. “His name is Shi Wenxuan, also known as the ‘Xiaoshan Hermit.’ He is a Ritual Studies Doctor specializing in Dragon Language and is among the top three scholars in the field.”
“He’s particularly skilled at training those who intend to enter the ancient lands of Dragon Court,” King Tianyan added. “The techniques he teaches are tailored for high-grade practitioners.”
Hearing this, Zhao Xing’s interest was piqued. Someone capable of teaching advanced professionals had to be exceptionally skilled.
The Dragon Language discipline, especially at high grades, required profound expertise. Achieving proficiency above Third Rank meant mastering the spiritual and intellectual aspects of the Soul and Wisdom Essences—something notoriously challenging.
“To elevate one’s spiritual wisdom to a grade suitable for combat, high-level understanding of logic, creativity, and learning ability is necessary,” King Tianyan explained. “Shi Wenxuan specializes in providing targeted training to expedite these aspects.”
The Enlightenment Technique is far more difficult than the Intelligence Reduction Technique!
“Originally, you wouldn’t have been qualified for his advanced training. I had arranged for a Third-Rank Ritual Master at the Shengyan Sub-Academy in Pinghai Prefecture to train you,” King Tianyan explained. “But plans change, and now you’ve already reached the Third Rank.”
“We can’t use the original methods anymore,” King Tianyan continued. “In fact, his class is already full, but I’ve temporarily added you to the roster. After all, there’s only a few years left before the opening of Dragon Court Ancient Lands.”
Zhao Xing nodded in understanding. The imperial court’s preparations for the Dragon Court Ancient Lands had always started well in advance. Since it opened once every hundred years, preparations began as early as fifty years before the event.
For mid-tier officials, the process of selection started at least twenty years ahead. For high-tier officials, preparation often began fifty years in advance.
Zhao Xing himself had participated in the preliminary selection in the 20th year of the Jingxin Calendar, which was considered quite late.
The Dragon Language Edict was a crucial skill required for entering the Dragon Court Ancient Lands. Therefore, Shi Wenxuan already had a group of students learning under him, and Zhao Xing was entering as a “latecomer.”
“You’ll learn as much as you can. I’ll also reserve one more year for you to study advanced techniques in Xuanyuan and Kunyuan,” King Tianyan said.
“Yes, I will give it my all,” Zhao Xing replied earnestly.
King Tianyan brought Zhao Xing to Shengyan Academy, located in the northern city of Fengdu.
Shi Wenxuan’s residence, named Xiaoshan Hermitage, exuded an aura of profound wisdom and tranquility. When they arrived, a broad-faced elder in scholarly robes, radiating an imposing presence, examined Zhao Xing carefully.
“You must be Zhao Xing?” the elder asked.
“Yes, it is I. Greetings, Teacher Shi,” Zhao Xing replied respectfully with a bow.
He couldn’t help but examine Shi Wenxuan in turn. The old master’s aura was unique, resembling that of a slumbering dragon.
“Your foundation seems decent, sufficient to begin learning the Dragon Language Edict,” Shi Wenxuan commented flatly. “But we’ll see if you have the aptitude and comprehension.”
King Tianyan chuckled. “Shi, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I guarantee he’s no fool. In fact, he could easily rank in the top three among your students.”
King Tianyan’s words were understated; Zhao Xing was, after all, the fastest cultivator of the Derivation of Spirit Technique in history. His quick comprehension of soul-related techniques was unmatched.
“Oh?” A spark of interest appeared in Shi Wenxuan’s eyes.
Although he only had thirty-five students under his guidance, half of them had already reached the Second Rank. Each was an extraordinary talent, selected to execute missions in the Dragon Court Ancient Lands.
If Zhao Xing’s aptitude could indeed rank in the top three among them, then Shi Wenxuan couldn’t help but raise his expectations.
“Very well. From today onward, I’ll take charge of his training.”
“No problem. Do your best,” King Tianyan said confidently, brimming with even more assurance than Zhao Xing himself.
Shi Wenxuan turned to Zhao Xing and said, “Follow me.”
Inside Xiaoshan Hermitage, thirty-five students were already practicing the Dragon Language Edict. By the 37th year of the Jingxin Calendar, Shi Wenxuan no longer taught basic or intermediate courses. With only two and a half years left before the Dragon Court Ancient Lands opened, it was impossible to focus on fundamentals.
As Zhao Xing stepped into the training hall, he was greeted by a display of profound Dragon Language Edicts.
“An-an-an-an-an~”
“Boom! Boom!”
The sound of dragon chants intertwined with flashes of lightning and bursts of wind and rain.
The Dragon Language was both a spoken language and a mystical technique. As the students chanted, the surrounding elemental energy fluctuated, and the heavens seemed to respond. Behind them, phantasms of dragons manifested.
Shi Wenxuan, however, did not place Zhao Xing with the other students. Instead, they quickly bypassed the hall and entered a secluded courtyard.
“Since you’ve learned very little and joined late, your progress is naturally far behind,” Shi Wenxuan said. “I’ll give you separate lessons.”
In the private study, Zhao Xing and Shi Wenxuan sat across from each other.
“Have you learned the Ten Thousand Beasts True Speech Technique?” Shi Wenxuan asked.
“Yes, I have,” Zhao Xing replied.
“Show me.”
“Xi-li-li~”
“Roar! Roar!”
Zhao Xing demonstrated the techniques he had learned during his time as Chief Inspector in the Dragon Horse Directorate. His performance incorporated all the true speech techniques he had mastered.
“Not bad,” Shi Wenxuan said with a nod. “But there’s still a significant gap. You’re nowhere near the level of Dragon Language mastery expected of someone at the Third Rank.”
“Yes, Teacher. Please guide me,” Zhao Xing replied humbly.
Shi Wenxuan began explaining, “The Dragon Language Edict is divided into three major tiers: Lower, Middle, and Upper, corresponding to the hierarchy of dragon species.”
“Lower-tier dragons have chaotic sounds and disordered tones, lacking any divine resonance,” Shi Wenxuan elaborated. “These dragons possess minimal true dragon bloodlines, diluted over countless generations through interbreeding. They are the lowest class among dragons.”
“Mid-tier dragons produce clear sounds and organized tones, imbued with a nascent divine essence,” Shi Wenxuan continued. “Their chants, known as the ‘Clear Songs of Dragons,’ harmonize with their forms, showcasing their budding divine potential. They use Dragon Language to refine their elemental energies, cleansing and strengthening their bloodlines.”
“Mid-tier dragons have typically activated their true dragon bloodlines, granting them unique innate abilities.”
Shi Wenxuan’s expression became serious as he transitioned to the next point. “Upper-tier dragons conceal their divine essence within their tones. Their chants resonate like ancient inscriptions, containing profound truths of the world. Their Dragon Language is equivalent to divine edicts.”
“These dragons have the potential to evolve into true dragons. Their bloodlines are further purified, enabling them to manipulate the Five Elements, Yin and Yang, and even control wind, rain, thunder, and lightning—approaching the legendary abilities of true dragons.”
Shi Wenxuan concluded, “Humans practicing Dragon Language cannot cleanse their bloodlines like dragons, nor can they manifest innate abilities. However, they can still use the language to strengthen their three souls and seven spirits, achieving a resemblance to the divine form and essence of dragons.”
He paused, looking directly at Zhao Xing. “At your current level, you’ve barely scratched the surface of the mid-tier Dragon Language. You’ve reached Level 1 of the Middle Tier.”
Zhao Xing listened attentively. The Dragon Language Edict was not a common cultivation method, nor was it widely spread. Its hierarchy was divided into three tiers, each consisting of nine sub-levels. Based on Shi Wenxuan’s assessment, Zhao Xing had only just reached Middle Tier Level 1.
If Zhao Xing were still at his former Fifth Rank, advancing a few levels might have sufficed to navigate the challenges of the Dragon Court Ancient Lands. However, as a Third Rank cultivator, merely reaching the mid-tier level would put him at a disadvantage.
In the Dragon Court Ancient Lands, Dragon Language Edicts determined authority over certain trials and mechanisms. If an opponent’s Dragon Language mastery surpassed his, he would be at a severe disadvantage during confrontations.
Shi Wenxuan interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve prepared advanced resources to aid your cultivation of Dragon Language. They include five Xiyin Dragon Stones and seven sets of Transmission Paintings.”
He pointed to Zhao Xing’s desk, where a large bamboo box floated over. Inside were five crystal-clear stones, each containing what seemed to be a swimming dragon, and seven golden paintings radiating faint spiritual energy.
“You’ll use these to enhance your comprehension. If you encounter any difficulties, ask me.”
Shi Wenxuan’s tone turned stern. “If you cannot advance three levels within a month, it means you won’t achieve Upper Tier Dragon Language before the Dragon Court Ancient Lands opens. I’ll stop teaching you, and you can use the remaining time to focus on other skills.”
With a wave of his hand, Shi Wenxuan gestured for Zhao Xing to begin. The materials before him glimmered, hinting at their extraordinary nature.
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