Chapter 20: Mysterious Pass

Chapter 20: The Mysterious Gate

Seeing Zhao Changhe finally focus and begin his horse stance, Luo Qi rolled her eyes.

The method of cultivating through a horse stance seemed utterly inferior. Yet the truth was that Zhao Changhe’s strength was indeed considerable, and it also made his lower body exceptionally stable; if she didn’t use internal energy to push him, her sheer physical strength couldn’t budge him at all.

The demonic art did have some merit, but Luo Qi doubted whether ordinary practitioners would be so diligent in laying such a basic foundation—so how many could truly master this technique?

Over there, Zhao Changhe had already entered a state of inner vision.

This inner vision was quite different from the internalist observation of qi flowing through meridians… What he observed was the flow of blood, like a biology class dissection experiment, seeing the blood slowly coursing through the vessels. Not only that, but he could also clearly sense the energy within and the tangible “blood qi” and “killing intent.”

These strange auras and energies intertwined and merged with the blood, like a great river flowing into the sea, surging and rushing.

Given Zhao Changhe’s scientific background, this was highly unscientific—but fortunately, ever since he saw the Book of Chaos, he had given up on science…

This blood-killing qi seeped into his muscles and bones, greatly enhancing his strength, but at the same time, it surged upward into his brain, clouding his thoughts and leading to a loss of reason. Yet it wasn’t purely negative; entering a berserk state could indeed make one more formidable in combat—a double-edged sword.

The more he drove the technique, the more severe the upward rush of blood qi became. And now, to break through, he was pushing the technique to its utmost limit, with no idea what the outcome would be.

As for the so-called “mysterious gate” of the human body, there was no unified standard—at least the definitions differed between internal and external schools.

The internal school spoke of acupoints and meridians, much like the “opening such-and-such meridians” in the martial arts novels Zhao Changhe read; breaking through certain meridians and acupoints would yield specific effects, corresponding to various levels of the mysterious gate.

The external school, however, focused on sinews, bones, and skin—using the expressive power of muscles, bones, and even the skin’s surface as a standard, such as how much physical strength one could exert, or how many oxen of force a punch could deliver.

Corresponding to the thresholds of the Blood-Killing Art, it was about whether the blood-killing qi surging within the blood vessels could be controlled to permeate specific capillaries, strengthening the muscle groups needed, allowing more targeted exertion of power in battle.

This was the first level of the mysterious gate—preliminary active control over one’s own body, sinews, bones, and blood vessels.

It sounded simple and basic, but achieving it was extremely difficult, as one had to fully circulate blood qi to break through. A misstep could lead to uncontrollable blood and killing qi bursting forth and causing death, or the blood qi rushing to the brain and turning one into a madman.

Zhao Changhe carefully followed the requirements of the Blood-Killing Art, attempting to concentrate the surging blood-killing qi into his biceps. His arm visibly swelled, the thin fabric of his clothes nearly bursting.

Watching from the side, Luo Qi could even imagine that if he took off his shirt, she would see knotted muscles with a bloody aura floating on the surface.

The swelling began to extend downward, from the upper arm to the forearm, then into his fist.

Sure enough, his fist began to show a bloody hue.

This display was similar to what they had seen when Fang Duzhu fought Luo Zhenwu—he had reached this stage so quickly, just at a lower level; the essence was the same.

Breaking through the first level this easily? Luo Qi cautiously glanced at Zhao Changhe’s eyes.

His eyes were indeed a bit red, with a hint of wild and violent aura… After all, driving the blood-killing qi to its fullest couldn’t be perfectly controlled; some would inevitably enter the brain, hence the need for a guardian.

But still… overall, it seemed okay? Though Zhao Changhe’s eyes were red and looked ferocious, his reason appeared intact.

Just as she thought this, she saw Zhao Changhe’s gaze grow increasingly wrong, his breathing heavier, and his expression as he looked at her seemed like he wanted to devour her.

Luo Qi instinctively stepped back half a pace, cursing inwardly: Damn it, you still say this isn’t an aphrodisiac? This is exactly the same routine! Is he about to pounce and tear…

As she retreated, she asked expressionlessly, “Can you handle it or not? Want me to kick you into the pond?”

“No…” Zhao Changhe spoke with difficulty, his voice hoarse: “My reason is under control, but I feel terrible—my blood vessels are churning like a storm, as if countless ants are crawling inside them…”

Luo Qi’s little hesitation vanished instantly, and she was startled: “Will you explode?”

“I feel… probably not, there’s no sense of swelling or bursting… It’s just, just extremely uncomfortable, worse than a high fever—so many ants biting me, almost drilling into my bones…” Despite the icy wind and snow, beads of sweat as big as beans rolled down Zhao Changhe’s forehead, showing his agony.

Luo Qi fell silent.

Both of them simultaneously recalled what Fang Buping had said when they first joined: “Practicing demonic arts will be very painful.”

Before, they hadn’t felt it to this extent and thought Fang Buping was exaggerating just to scare Zhao Changhe away.

But now that he was beginning to break through the mysterious gate and enter the hall, it was time to experience the pain.

What is a demonic art? It harms the user before harming others. With blood-killing qi surging through the body, how could it not be painful? They had long known the negative effects of demonic arts—while enjoying rapid progress, the downsides would eventually catch up. Now, they were finally experiencing it firsthand.

Luo Qi hesitated.

Saying reason was controllable didn’t guarantee it; what if he suddenly lost control when she approached?

Moreover… deep down, Luo Qi vaguely felt that Zhao Changhe dying wouldn’t be so bad… He was kind to her, and she couldn’t bring herself to kill him outright—wouldn’t it be fine if he died from his own practice?

Why should she help him? And risk his losing control to help him?

But…

Even as these thoughts turned in her mind, her feet involuntarily moved forward, and her hand gently rested on Zhao Changhe’s back.

Only when her hand touched him did Luo Qi realize what she was doing and sighed inwardly.

The kindness she couldn’t bear to discard… Zhao Changhe had it, and didn’t she as well?

Forget it.

Zhao Changhe felt a gentle aura seeping through his meridians, soothing and nourishing the chaos within him. He could tell that Luo Qi’s internal energy wasn’t of the gentle, nourishing type—it was sharp and lethal. She was straining to restrain its sharpness, clumsily and painfully helping to sort out the disorder and calm the blood’s ferocity.

The unbearable pain eased slightly, and he could sense Luo Qi’s struggle. Zhao Changhe whispered, “Thanks…”

“Isn’t this what a guardian is for? What’s there to thank?” Luo Qi said with effort. “But this can only ease you a little; it doesn’t address the root. You came here to break through… With this much pain, can you still do it? Maybe you should give up?”

Zhao Changhe panted, “I was too uncomfortable just now and forgot something… Now that I’m a bit better, I remember that Instructor Sun gave me a pill—probably for this… a painkiller?”

Luo Qi was silent for a moment, then slowly said, “Maybe. But have you considered that if you have to rely on such pills from now on, it might be a way for the demon cult to control people? No wonder Instructor Sun teaches you so diligently without fear of betrayal… Did he ever tell you this?”

Zhao Changhe fell silent too. Instructor Sun had indeed hesitated several times but never said it outright. From his perspective, was controlling people through the demon cult just a matter of course?

Luo Qi’s words from that day echoed in his mind again: Don’t trust anyone, not even me, and not even Instructor Sun.

Zhao Changhe had already taken out the pill, but he gritted his teeth and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Without the pill, relying only on Luo Qi’s unskilled soothing was like trying to put out a cartload of firewood with a cup of water. Zhao Changhe could no longer maintain his horse stance; he slowly collapsed to the ground, curling up in pain.

Who would have thought that just moments ago, they were under the moon and flowers, sneaking a peek at her bathing, and in a few breaths, everything had changed.

Bitter frost, winter solstice.

Luo Qi urged, “If you can’t go on, stop! Don’t tell me you can’t stop?”

Zhao Changhe gritted his teeth: “And after I stop… never practice again? Abandon the art and start over?”

Luo Qi was speechless.

Abandoning the art usually meant completely ruining one’s foundation, making it impossible to cultivate anything else.

“Better to push through… and see if the end of the road… is a dead end!” Zhao Changhe grabbed at the stones by the pond, his fingers leaving bloody marks, drop by drop falling into the water, a shocking sight.

Luo Qi watched anxiously: “Why don’t you take the pill?”

“If it’s a means of control, why should I take it…” Zhao Changhe panted hoarsely. “I don’t believe I can’t get through this on my own!”

Luo Qi said nothing, staring fixedly at Zhao Changhe’s almost crazed eyes.

They said Boss Zhao was a true man.

Luo Qi had always scoffed at that—what kind of true man blushes and cringes at a woman’s touch?

But at this moment, she truly felt that he was indeed a true man.

Zhao Changhe clung to the rock and suddenly laughed: “Whether Instructor Sun’s actions are right or wrong is another matter… At least I didn’t misplace my trust in you.”

Luo Qi suddenly flared up: “You’re just a fool!”

Zhao Changhe said softly, “At least this time, I don’t need their pill… I rely on you.”

Luo Qi was stunned, and suddenly felt the chaotic blood-killing qi within Zhao Changhe gradually calm, the swollen muscles returning to normal. Only a faint blood-red hue lingered around his fists, flowing eerily in the moonlight.

"A breakthrough?" she asked incredulously.

"Mm." Zhao Changhe gently clenched his fist, then opened it, feeling the change in strength slightly, and said in a hoarse voice, "Thank you."

Luo Qi shook her head. She had only eased Zhao Changhe's pain a little, a drop in the bucket; Zhao Changhe was still in great agony, as could be told from his trembling, hoarse tone.

In the midst of intense pain, most people cannot even concentrate their energy. Who but a true iron man could grit his teeth and swim against the current to break through the mysterious barrier?

It seemed he relied not so much on Luo Qi as on himself.

But if he continued to cultivate, he would still have to face such hurdles, each more agonizing than the last. Could he endure them?

"Also..." Zhao Changhe gasped weakly, but his face wore a very happy smile. "We've turned misfortune into fortune... I've discovered something... Look."

Luo Qi looked down in astonishment, following his gaze.

The bloodstains seeping into the pool water, at some unknown moment, had twisted into the shape of a dragon.

Then, as if alive, they swirled unceasingly around the half-moon in the pool.