Chapter 23: Xu Changtian

"Go on."

"You can start again."

"We don't have much time left."

"Don't hesitate—I'm awake now. Keep going."

"..."

No sound. No words.

In this cramped cave deeply embedded within the mountain, there was only the quiet, unchanging reminder from Xu Yuan—each time he awoke from near-death, his voice a calm, steady whisper.

With every utterance of Xu Yuan's voice, his strength waned.

Thanks to Ran Qingmo having woken Xu Yuan earlier from his unconscious state, the time it took for him to recover from near-death had been reduced from roughly two hours to less than half an hour.

Transmitting inner energy to heal one's body—using the Qi of another to mend one's own wounds.

Yet the Qi infused into others' bodies was never truly their own.

Each time Qi was transmitted to heal wounds, a trace of it would remain within the recipient's meridians.

Given sufficient time, this was a blessing.

With continued internal cultivation, these lingering fragments could be gradually refined and absorbed, enhancing one's own cultivation.

But when transmission occurred too frequently and too abruptly, the Qi left behind in others underwent a fundamental transformation—becoming a hidden ailment nearly incurable.

Ran Qingmo explained the advantages and disadvantages to Xu Yuan, but Xu Yuan cared little.

For him, reducing the two-hour window of near-death to just half an hour was more than sufficient.

It was a boon—offering him more opportunities to adapt to the state of near-death, and to prepare thoroughly for the final cultivation of the Blood Yuan Heart's Cataclysm.

Time slipped quietly through the endless cycles of near-death.

Five times,

Ten times,

Twenty times,

Thirty times...

His consciousness cycled endlessly before the boundless darkness of death. Xu Yuan had forgotten how many times he had entered near-death states with her help.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Through the faint glow of the night pearls on the stone wall, he saw the delicate, untouched face of the woman, and the thin layer of ice covering his body, radiating a cold, eerie chill.

"Ran... Mr. Ran."

His voice was weak and trembling, yet it signified that Xu Yuan had, at this fragile edge of death, managed to steady his mind—enough to speak.

Ran Qingmo silently lifted his gaze, his eyes deep and serene, yet filled with complex emotions:

"You said."

Xu Yuan, his body encrusted with ice crystals, struggled to maintain a steady tone:

"Will the external array... still be there... how much longer until it disappears?"

Ran Qingmo closed her eyes and sensed, after a long pause, she whispered softly:

"It will probably last another two days."

"Another two days..."

Xu Yuan sighed faintly.

Time was still too tight. Even disregarding the hidden ailments in his body and risking his life, it had taken him roughly three days to complete the third step.

Though time was running out, panic would serve no purpose—preparations had to be made, even if only once.

And Xu Yuan believed that the prime minister’s eldest son, upon sensing his cultivation, would not risk having his younger brother go astray by forcibly breaking through the barrier.

Now, he could only gamble.

A long silence, and only then did Xu Yuan speak, his voice trembling:

"Starting tomorrow, I... I'll begin practicing the techniques. If I go wrong and burn myself, then... then I'll rely on you."

Ran Qingmo nodded silently.

Gazing into her serious eyes, Xu Yuan offered a gentle smile:

"Mr. Ran... I'll officially begin my practice tomorrow. Please remind me."

"Alright, I'll remember."

...

...

The first time he activated his cultivation techniques while near death was far more difficult than he had anticipated.

Not because his consciousness failed to coalesce, but because the residual Yuan Qi left behind by Ran Qingmo within him was simply too vast.

Over and over again, through countless sessions of energy transmission and healing, the meridians within Xu Yuan's body had nearly taken on the shape of Ran Qingmo's own.

His body had always been of poor natural endowment.

Each meridian was once again choked with blockages, like narrow mountain paths, and now upon these tight, winding corridors flowed the icy-blue source energy belonging to Ran Qingmo.

Those lingering traces of ice-blue energy clung to every inner wall of his meridians, seeping like frost upon stone.

Under such conditions, Xu Yuan found it utterly impossible to guide his remaining source energy along the prescribed pathways of the technique.

Yet, upon sensing this, Xu Yuan did not allow himself to be overwhelmed by emotion.

He clung firmly to the belief he had always held:

When a problem arises, solve it.

As the meridians within him grew narrower, he moved with even greater caution when guiding the source energy forward.

As each cycle of the technique took longer to complete, he forced himself to remain conscious—just a little longer—through the brink of death.

........

One day had passed, swiftly and silently.

Another awakening from unconsciousness,

Xu Yuan's first sight upon opening his eyes remained her—still quietly by his side.

The difference now was that he lay upon the sole jade bed within the cave sanctuary.

Silently sitting up, Xu Yuan glanced sideways at the jade bed.

Upon its pristine surface, two scrolls of cultivation techniques lay stacked neatly, beside them two vials of precious elixirs necessary for cultivation.

Silent observation, thoughts stirring with quiet reflection—after over a month, he had finally reached the final step.

"Um... I haven't seen your cultivation techniques."

Seemingly stirred by Xu Yuan's prolonged gaze, the large block of ice beside him suddenly spoke without warning, in a random, unconnected utterance.

Glancing sideways, Xu Yuan smiled gently:

"I know."

These two scrolls held no special qualities beyond their content—merely ordinary sheets of paper. With Ran Qingmo's cultivation, if she wished to inspect them, even from a distance of dozens of meters, she could effortlessly perceive every detail through her intent soul.

Xu Yuan silently adjusted his posture and settled onto the jade bed.

He opened two jade vials, and instantly, a mingling scent of blood and incense filled the cramped cave.

Laying two pills flat upon his palm, their medicinal patterns were ancient and intricate.

Xu Yuan finally glanced sideways at Ran Qingmo, half-teasing:

"Master Ran, you should truly hope that I succeed—otherwise, this cave will become our final resting place."

"........"

Ran Qingmo stared at him without speaking.

She was still as quiet as when they first met.

Xu Yuan shook his head slightly, bored by the silence, and said nothing more. He simply lifted his head and swallowed the two pills in one go.

The pills dissolved instantly, turning into two smooth streams of warmth that flowed into his body.

No pain.

In fact, the two streams spreading through his body brought a strange sense of comfort.

But as that thought passed through Xu Yuan’s mind, disaster erupted suddenly!

One of the warm streams suddenly surged into a violent surge of primordial energy, rushing down his meridians like a flood.

The sudden, searing pain caused Xu Yuan’s entire body to buckle uncontrollably, curving like a shrimp.

His meridians, already narrow and constricted, could not withstand such a massive surge of energy.

With every inch the energy passed through, Xu Yuan’s meridians cracked—each inch of destruction brought a piercing agony that nearly shattered his mind.

Pain... too much pain!

This agony, searing through his bones, left him unable to breathe, his vision blurring with blackness.

Yet thanks to countless near-deaths, Xu Yuan managed to force his mind to remain steady, resisting the urge to collapse into unconsciousness from the sheer intensity of the pain.

One minute passed.

The explosive potency of Er Yun Dan surged through Xu Yuan’s hundred and twenty-seven meridians, circling once within his body.

With each wave of bone-deep agony, Xu Yuan could feel his meridians fracturing, breaking in pieces.

His outer body, now utterly drained, could no longer maintain the seated posture, collapsing softly onto the jade bed.

The true despair of death began to seep into his heart, inch by inch...

But at that moment, a second, warm current—emanating from the Xue Ling Rong Shen Dan—began to seep into the fractured meridians.

This current was warm and viscous, bringing a tingling, soothing warmth with every inch it passed through.

Xu Yuan sensed this state and knew the moment had come. He immediately began guiding the medicinal force of the Blood Spirit Fusion Pill along the pathways prescribed by the Blood Yuan Heart's Fall Technique.

As the medicinal energy of the Blood Spirit Fusion Pill spread through his body, the broken meridians within him began to mend, one by one.

Yet this was merely the beginning.

Two streams of medicinal force—one from the Eru Death Pill, the other from the Blood Spirit Fusion Pill—advanced in sequence, spiraling endlessly through Xu Yuan’s meridians. The Eru Death Pill led the way, demolishing what lay in its path; the Blood Spirit Fusion Pill followed, repairing what had been broken.

Pain and comfort intertwined, driving his mind into frenzy. Meridians shattered and mended, mended and shattered again. Over and over, in endless circles.

Practice knows no time.

As time passed,

Xu Yuan realized that his consciousness had not grown hazy or blurred with the constant near-death experiences and sharp pains; rather, it had become more solid and clear.

After an unknown length of time,

Xu Yuan even managed to allocate a portion of his mental focus to sense the floating Qi drifting through the heavens and earth.

Previously, he could only detect a few faint clumps of Qi within this cave—now, as the relentless circulation of his Blood-Heart's destruction continued, these Qi clusters multiplied steadily.

The pale complexion gradually warmed, his breath, once thin and fragile, now steady and even. Everything was moving toward balance.

Beyond this,

some strange images began to seep into Xu Yuan’s mind like a gentle stream of water.

Like watching a film of consciousness flowing through time—fragmented, chaotic, yet somehow connected.

With careful attention,

Xu Yuan quickly sensed something amiss.

Was this image a memory belonging to that Xu Changtian?

As the soul melded perfectly with the body, these remnants of memory lingering within the flesh began to surface bit by bit in Xu Yuan's mind.

There were the trivialities of daily life, of washing and bathing;

There was the bullying of men and the defiling of women on the streets, relying entirely on his family's prestige;

There was the hunting on horseback during excursions out of the city;

There was even the preposterous spectacle of this third young master taking aphrodisiacs to force a single dragon to play with five phoenixes at the Drunken Immortal Tavern...

The images shifted from blurred to clear, vast and unending.

Yet, to Xu Yuan's surprise, among these memories of Xu Changtian, there were very few regarding his old man.

Most of the time, the father was nothing more than a silhouette from behind—a silhouette that filled him with dread.

Fear?

Xu Yuan realized, as the image of that silhouette flashed through his mind, that he had, in turn, felt a subtle tremor of dread.

He was being shaped by these memories.

At this point, Xu Yuan quickly silenced his thoughts and refused to dwell on the Chancellor.

Yet the next instant, the memories surged back uncontrollably.

Compared to his distant, lofty father, the memory that most deeply etched itself into Xu Changge’s mind was that of his elder brother.

As the memories flooded in, Xu Yuan realized that his body’s sense of fear toward Xu Changge was even stronger than his fear of his father.

A fear that ran deep into his bones.

Merely thinking of him caused Xu Yuan’s body to tremble faintly.

How deeply must one be afraid to elicit such a reaction...?

Soon, Xu Yuan found the answer within those fragments of memory.

One after another, the memories surfaced before his eyes.

"Idiot! You can't even manage something so basic!"

"If I see you disgrace yourself again, I'll have Father kill you myself!"

"You worthless creature—look at all the trouble you've caused in the Imperial Capital!"

"Practice, practice—can't even master cultivation! Can't even pass the civil service exams, Xu Changtian! Can you learn anything from your second brother or fourth sister?"

"Ha ha ha... Xu Changtian! Truly, after three days apart, you've made quite an impression! I've only been on a mission to the North Barbarian lands for three months, and already you've done something so outrageous. Well done! Now, dare you even touch the daughter of Wu Cheng Prince? Bring me the whip—get the thickest one, Ying'er!"

"... "Xu Yuan.

As these scenes played through his mind, Xu Yuan remained silent, expressionless.

Xu Changge was ten years older than Xu Changtian. His father was occupied with official duties in the court, so it was largely Xu Changge who raised him from childhood.

Yet, this elder brother's method of education was remarkably simple and brutal.

If he said "beat," he truly beat—hard, mercilessly.

The memories belonging to Xu Changtian kept surfacing in his mind, and Xu Yuan clearly felt his emotions being influenced by the other.

He did not want this,

but at this moment, aside from silently accepting it, he had no other choice.

The memories flowed on,

just as the Blood Yuan Heart's destruction was about to be completed, Xu Yuan's mind suddenly went blank.

The endless stream of memories seemed to vanish instantly.

As Xu Yuan grew puzzled,

a sword appeared in his consciousness.

A blade that seemed to pierce through the entire Tianmen Mountain.

Yet this blade appeared swiftly and vanished just as quickly, dissolving almost instantly into his consciousness...

....

....

The technique was complete. Xu Yuan slowly opened his eyes.

His memories remained, but the emotions had vanished.

Still, what was that blade that last appeared in his mind?

His gaze flickered, and Xu Yuan suddenly recalled the sword-like sensation he had felt while gazing toward the Tianmen from the precipice.

At the time, it had been too urgent to ponder deeply. Now, with reflection, many inconsistencies surfaced.

The blade appearing in his mind must have been a result of that very gaze.

But why?

The Tianmen on Tianmen Mountain has existed for at least ten thousand years, witnessed by countless individuals—why, then, did it only manifest an opportunity for him?

After endless contemplation, Xu Yuan found only one difference: he did not belong to this world.

Could it be that only the souls of those who have crossed dimensions could sense the lingering sword intent that had persisted for ten thousand years?

That reasoning feels too abstract.

Xu Yuan couldn’t comprehend it, so he set it aside for now.

At that moment,

Ran Qingmo’s voice, soft and gentle, came from beside him:

“The outer array has vanished. They’re coming.”

Xu Yuan glanced at her, reached out, took the scroll—Xue Yuan Xin Yun Jue—lying on the jade bed, and spoke with a calm tone:

"I understand."

As the words left his lips,

The cultivation technique surged within him, and threads of crimson primordial qi emerged from his fingertips, coiling around his hands.

In the next instant,

Wisps of flame ignited, and the sole surviving copy of the Blood Core Heartfall Technique, along with that secret manual, vanished from the world forever.

Much like the "Ice Cloud Steps" inherent to Ran Qingmo's own technique, the Blood Core Heartfall Technique came with numerous practical applications, and the flame before him was merely one of them.

Having disposed of the illicit goods that might expose his identity,

And changing into that blood-red robe of Blood Jade Glazed Glass,

Xu Yuan began to systematically strip the cave dwelling of every single useful item.

Slipping the Sumeru ring from the bedside onto his index finger, he swept the jade bed and the entire spring of spiritual water cleanly into its spatial depths.

Pausing briefly,

Xu Yuan glanced at the night pearl embedded in the stone wall and, without hesitation, slipped it into his jade seal.

For a moment,

the cavern plunged into complete darkness.

With nothing to do in the stillness, Xu Yuan settled into meditation, beginning his cultivation.

He had high hopes for the speed of refining his primordial Dao body.

Yet as his spiritual consciousness expanded, he immediately sensed a vast chasm.

Different from the three or four "Qi clusters" he had previously perceived, now Xu Yuan felt himself submerged in an endless, bewildering sea of Qi—

And Xu Yuan did not know that,

by his side, Ran Qingmo’s quiet, moonlit eyes remained fixed upon him in the dark, her expression hesitating between words unsaid and silence.

Time slipped away silently,

then,

"That is...?"

At the sound, Xu Yuan slowly opened his eyes, turning to Ran Qingmo.

"My name is Ran Qingmo." Ran Qingmo.

"........"

Xu Yuan found it strange that she would say that.

Though he had always called her "Mr. Ran," he remembered clearly that, back in the temple, she had once given her name to him.

He gave a slight nod:

"I know."

Having said that, he closed his eyes again.

A pause of over ten seconds passed,

Xu Yuan opened his eyes once more, channeling the source qi into his eyes—and immediately noticed the woman still fixedly staring at him, unblinking.

A slight moment of confusion passed, then he realized she was asking for his name.

After living side by side with her for so long, she still didn’t know his name.

Subconsciously, he wanted to utter it, but the words died on his lips.

His gaze flickered for a moment,

Xu Yuan slowly lowered his eyes, exhaled softly, and a faint, enigmatic smile curled at the corner of his lips:

"My name is...

'Xu Changtian.'"