My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 320 - 243 I Bet You Can’t Last 3 Breaths (Extra for "Bamboo Branch" bro!)_3

Chapter 320: Chapter 243 I Bet You Can’t Last 3 Breaths (Extra for "Bamboo Branch" bro!)_3

Bang———

Armor shattered, all dead, blood gathered.

The red serpent retreated, returning to the small Circulation within the four meridians, circulating and accumulating power.

Again.

Once, twice, thrice...

Under the formidable pass, the blood slowly piled up, turning into countless ants that climbed and gnawed.

With each strike, the red serpent’s vigor weakened, its form shrank, yet the ferocious blood light grew ever more intense!

Within the Belt Meridian, the barrier that obstructed the flow of Innate Primordial Qi began to wobble uncertainly, as if it might fall at any moment.

Outside the East Fence Small House, all was silent. Inside the northern room, Zhao Rong’s face was flushed red, his body wavered, yet he kept practicing his Fist Stance—each punch was light yet submerged with force!

Before his eyes, Qing Jun’s delicate figure appeared once more, her hands carefully holding a bowl of porridge, tenderly offered to him with a playful smile.

Zhao Rong’s eyes slightly opened.

In fact, looking back, Qing Jun was indeed quite concerned and even anxious about his Cultivation Realm. The two were still young, setting aside the shared hopes of eternal life and enduring Great Dao—Qing Jun yearned for him to catch up to her pace.

Just consider the currently incomplete nuptial rites of Duke Zhou.

As a Martial Artist at the Ascension Stage, he could not achieve a Realm Breakthrough into Fu Yao. Without doing so, he could not unite physically with Qing Jun, their essences merging as one. Otherwise, his vitality would not just be drained as if doing minor needlework for him, but because of his average talent, as a Martial Artist who had broken precepts, he would forever lose hope of reaching Fu Yao.

Perhaps that was also the reason his lady had yet to return his black Jade Token?

Drip... Drip...

As Zhao Rong continued his Fist Stance with closed eyes, sweat slid down his cheeks, following the arcs of his tensed jaw and gathering along the well-defined edges of his face.

Falling.

Zhao Rong couldn’t help thinking of her.

So... did Qing Jun painstakingly bring him this congee to aid in his Breaking Mirror phase?

He had no idea how much effort she had put into obtaining this Spiritual Medicine.

Although Qing Jun was a Sword Cultivator of the Vast Realm and the pride of Taiching Prefecture, and even though she had resources allocated by Tranquility Mansion and the backing of the foremost wealthy family from a moderately sized royal dynasty at the foot of the mountain, she was currently at the critical moment of shattering the mirror. Her Cultivation needed more resources, especially as a Sword Cultivar who consumed a great deal of money.

And although this auxiliary Spiritual Medicine was just an aid for breaking through from the Ascension Stage to Fu Yao Realm, it was very scarce on the mountain.

After all, among the descendants of the illustrious families and powerful Cultivators on the mountain, there are many like him who struggle to ascend. These people have the mountain as their backing and never lack money, which is exactly why the Falling Flower Grade poems that can facilitate a breakthrough to Fu Yao Realm are priceless on the mountain.

How much money had Qing Jun spent to compete for this Spiritual Medicine?

Zhao Rong pursed his lips, continuing his Fist Stance, as sweat kept dripping down, with a pool of sweat already formed under his feet.

Zhao Rong felt somewhat helpless in his heart.

He wasn’t short of money. Setting aside the poems from his previous life that were almost endless—the ones that could potentially belong to the legendary Nanshan Grade, which he had been afraid to use before entering Linlu Academy for fear of drawing unwanted attention—he now felt much safer with his student status within the Academy. Even Falling Flower Grade poems were not too difficult for him when inspiration struck. For example, the poem "Crimson Lips" he composed after discussing with Wenruo at night in Zhongnan Country, or the poem he wrote in public while impersonating Wenruo at a poetic gathering outside Great Wei’s capital, which he gave to Xiao Xiao and she said she would present to her great-grandmother as his way of greeting.

Therefore, if Zhao Rong went to Du You City, he wouldn’t need to worry about money at all. Instead, his concern would be how to sell a large amount of scarce Nanshan Grade poems discreetly, without attracting attention.

But today was a day of rest and, halfway through, Yu Huaijin appeared and thoroughly resolved his blessed worries. For a short time, he wouldn’t be thinking about going into the city. Brother Zhao, focus on improving your zither skill; we’ll talk about passing the critical mid-month exam first...

So now, he could only stay put honestly, waiting for Qing Jun to feed him congee?

Right, and also the "autumn clothes" she brought every night to fend off the cold and ease his worries...

Zhao Rong continued to guide the red serpent within his body to strike at the meridians, his mind somewhat distracted.

Thinking of Yu Huaijin, he felt an itch in his teeth.

But thinking of Qing Jun and Xiao Xiao, his heart filled with warmth.

"What are you thinking about? You’re bolder than a Kunpeng! How dare you be distracted while your meridians are breaking through?!" Gui, who had been silent this whole time, suddenly yelled sternly.

Zhao Rong startled, abruptly woke up with wide eyes, and quickly reined in his wandering thoughts, severing all the strange and chaotic thoughts that had suddenly emerged on the rippling surface of his Heart Lake.

His thoughts gradually clarified.

Zhao Rong inwardly exclaimed how close it had been. This path of cultivation was fraught with danger; the slightest misstep could lead to disaster. He was just at the initial stage of moving from the Ascending Realm to the Fu Yao Realm, and already his mind had been as restless as a capricious monkey. If he had faced the evils of the higher realms, like the Heart Demons and the Evil Flood Dragon lurking in the lake...

The next second, Zhao Rong’s teeth clenched, cutting off even the stray thoughts of relief.

The Heart Lake finally calmed down, windless and waveless.

Not a single ripple on the surface of the lake.

His eyes serene, he slowly closed them, and all his focus and spirit plunged into the river of meridians he was introspecting within.

At this moment.

Within the body’s meridians, the "Girdle Meridian," clogged with impurities, stood like a formidable pass, on the verge of collapsing. Just a few breaths ago, it had barely withstood the onslaught of a "Iron Cavalry Carving" by a wave of tiny red snakes.

The red snakes, dragging their weakened forms yet still ferocious, slowly retreated back into the minor Circulation formed by the other four meridians.

Zhao Rong held his breath to calm his spirit; the Girdle Meridian was located around the waistband of the torso.

His brow furrowed, he gently twisted his body to the left, slightly shifting his weight to his right foot; his right hand coiled upwards, and his left hand coiled downwards in a pressing motion.

A casual tie of his clothes.

In an instant, Zhao Rong’s right fist shot forward!

Inside the body’s four meridians of the minor Circulation, the red snake shot forth like an arrow released from a full bow, as urgent as a spark flying towards the Girdle Meridian’s "sturdy pass," unstoppable as bamboo breaking through!

Boom——————!

In Zhao Rong’s inner vision, the blockage inside the Girdle Meridian collapsed thunderously, all those once-accumulated impurities shattered, scattering as they were swept away by the fierce red snake that glowed red hot.

"Huff~"

Zhao Rong, who had been holding his breath, suddenly relaxed, about to open his eyes...

At this very moment!

In the tranquil Heart Lake, where the water was calm, a tiny bubble surfaced, and a simple and extremely brief thought suddenly appeared, as if someone whispered in his ear:

"Qing Jun has seen Xiao Xiao."

Calm, yet certain.

Zhao Rong stiffened, turning into a stone statue fixed in place.

One breath, two breaths, three...

Pop————!

Zhao Rong’s guarded spirit crumbled, the ferocious red snake within about to break free lost its restraints, completely out of control, unable to maintain its form, and exploded in an instant.

Innate Primordial Qi backlash.

Bang!

Zhao Rong wrenched at his waist, his body tilting backward, and he fell onto the cold stone floor, his face deathly pale, gasping for air. Soon after, a mouthful of fresh blood rose to his throat, and Zhao Rong fiercely bit down, his cheeks bulging, then swallowed!

With one hand clenched over his chest and the other supporting him against the hard, rough floor, his body heaved violently, like an old bellows pulling in ragged breaths.

Gui had been startled by the sudden burst in Zhao Rong’s Heart Lake and immediately used its limited recovering energy to sweep through Zhao Rong’s meridians with Divine Sense.

A moment later, it withdrew its spirit, slightly relieved, "It’s good that..."

His other meridians were unharmed, but the Girdle Meridian was in chaos; impurities had clogged it up again. However, fortunately, or unfortunately, the foundation of the meridians remained undamaged.

However, the Innate Primordial Qi that he had managed to barely recover had dissipated during the recent backlash, and it seemed that considerable time would be required to recuperate...

Soon, Gui returned to its senses. It remained silent for a while, then suddenly laughed:

"I told you, you wouldn’t last three breaths. So, how about it, didn’t I startle you?"

Zhao Rong was silent.

His eyes staring straight ahead, quietly fixated on the floor.