Soul of the Revered Banner
Chapter 44: Cultivation

Old Xiang stumbled out of the marquis’s manor, dazed and disoriented.

Under the dark heavens and silver moon, the world lay in a vast, hazy silence.

Perched on the dim, leafless branches were drowsy old crows.

As Old Xiang walked beneath the trees, his steps startled the crows on the treetops awake.

And in that moment, he too seemed to awaken from his stupor.

He couldn’t quite remember what he had said to the young master, nor what the young master had instructed.

It felt like they had spoken… and also like they hadn’t.

Even if something was said, it was already forgotten.

He had no other desires, his heart held but one thought: revenge.

After Old Xiang left, Xue Yi mused, “He’s broken into the Organ Refining realm, a first-rate expert now but his aura feels… off.”

“Also, he’s killed someone recently.”

“The killing intent on him still hasn’t faded.”

“He didn’t come to see the young master.”

“This man carries murder in his heart.”

A first-rate expert in the Organ Refining realm was already rare in the secular world.

Having undergone a qualitative change in internal energy, drawing closer to true spiritual power, their sensitivity and perception of auras surpassed that of ordinary martial artists.

After probing him, Xue Yi naturally understood that Old Xiang hadn’t come for the young master.

But since he didn’t come to kill the young master, he must be targeting someone else within the marquis’s household.

For a first-rate expert to act personally, the target couldn’t be some low-level lackey.

However, now that Old Xiang had entered the Organ Refining realm, Xue Yi chose not to expose him.

A cultivator of that level could accomplish much, killing him now would be a waste.

Better to win him over, and make him a card in the young master’s comeback.

Some things required foresight.

Wen Yue sighed deeply, “His eyes are filled with hatred. Of course I noticed.”

“Something must have happened.”

“Chu Jiu, go have someone check on Baihu Xiang’s household. Find out what happened.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

The close aide Chu Jiu agreed.

Although the intelligence network had been crippled after the young master’s fall from power, making it difficult to investigate openly, Chu Jiu was familiar with Old Xiang, and had interacted with his subordinates.

Even if they couldn’t ask Old Xiang directly, they could ask others.

Xue Yi used internal energy to soothe Wen Yue’s injured leg, his expression somber.

The bone was broken.

Even if it could be reset, it would end up shorter, he’d be left with uneven legs.

Such an injury would leave lasting damage, even for an Organ Refining expert.

Worse, the injury showed no signs of improvement.

The Marquis wouldn’t allow a cripple to become the next heir.

A limping man before the Emperor would be seen as an affront to royal decorum.

While not necessarily a capital offense, it was enough for enemies to seize on and exploit.

In the Great Liang, there was no precedent of a cripple holding office, who would dare break such taboo?

How could a cripple serve as the deputy commander of Military Affairs, lead the Southern Embroidered Guards, or oversee a Thousand-Man Garrison?

Wen Yue was likewise anxious and fearful.

This was a matter of life and death.

Lying here, he was no better than a useless man.

Day after day, he could only wait quietly for death.

The fact that he hadn’t gone mad yet was a testament to his strong will.

But even the strongest heart would eventually be worn down by the nearness of death.

One day, he would lose his mind.

Everything he once had was fading with his broken leg. One by one, those who once surrounded him were leaving.

That kind of slow decline was something few could accept.

“Master Xue…”

“Is my leg… truly beyond saving?” Wen Yue asked, holding back tears, voice choked.

“There’s still one way.”

“Ask the Immortal Master in the Offering Pavilion to act.”

“There may be a chance.”

After speaking for a while, Xue Yi also took his leave.

The night was lonely.

Old Xiang returned home and began channeling internal energy into the Soul Banner.

From its surface, a black bead dropped out.

After heating the firebed and filling his stomach, Old Xiang swallowed the Yin Soul Pill in one gulp.

By now, the process was familiar. As the cold spiritual energy entered his body, his internal energy increased once again.

At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he reverted to the innate stage and stepped into Qi cultivation.

Tu Shanjun didn’t know whether Old Xiang had spiritual roots or not.

When he memorized the Nether Spirit Art but didn’t immediately become a cultivator, it meant that even if he had spiritual roots, they weren’t good ones.

Better to keep walking the martial path.

Having already refined his organs, one more step would take him to the innate realm.

At that point, switching to cultivation techniques would allow him to convert internal energy into spiritual power and formally enter the world of cultivation.

With Yin Soul Pills to support him, his progress wouldn’t lag behind others.

The Soul Banner was a superior-grade magical tool. As long as he got one strike in, he could slay enemies beyond his level.

After all that had happened, Old Xiang’s thirst for revenge only deepened but he no longer acted rashly.

He needed power.

As long as he fed internal energy into the banner, it would produce black beads.

He would grow stronger, perhaps even glimpse the innate realm.

And when that day came, the vast world would be his to roam.

“Grow stronger… at least reach the first layer of Qi-Refining…”

Tu Shanjun muttered inside the banner.

As long as Old Xiang reached the Qi-Refining stage, even just the first layer, he would be able to summon Tu Shanjun's ghostly body.

Those worldly enemies were mere ants, hardly worth the worry.

Everyone had their own concerns.

Letting Li Qingfeng’s corpse go missing pained Tu Shanjun greatly.

But he had no means to stop it.

None at all.

He had hoped it would fall into the hands of the Immortal Masters, and through some cultivators, allow Li Qingfeng to be buried properly.

At the very least, laid to rest.

But fate had its own ideas, and somehow, it had ended up with Old Xiang.

As time passed, Tu Shanjun’s expression grew increasingly agitated.

His green-skinned, ghostly face looked all the more vicious, and his long, red hair trembled slightly like an enraged lion.

Be patient, endure!

Tu Shanjun recalled a phrase Li Qingfeng often used.

He began practicing his martial forms again.

The three Demon Ape forms roared through the air, sending evil spirits and ghosts within the banner scattering in all directions.

Old Xiang woke from his dreams once more.

It was the fourth watch, dawn was approaching.

No longer overthinking it, he lay with his five hearts facing heaven, and began softly reciting the Nether Spirit Art.

The cultivation chants, though esoteric and obscure, when recited at a steady rhythm, caused his oral cavity to vibrate and in turn, his bones began to resonate.

Muscles and bones harmonized and engaged.

The incantations carried an inexplicable rhythm, naturally guiding the body’s energy flow.

That was the wondrous nature of cultivation techniques.

But Old Xiang still hadn’t sensed any spiritual qi.

When he practiced the Tiger’s Roar Strength in his youth, the complex and rhythmless scriptures had not helped but the physical exertion eventually helped him develop a sense of internal energy, entering the Skin Tempering stage and becoming a third-rate martial artist.

Now, though he held a miraculous technique in hand, he still hadn’t felt the presence of spiritual power.

But since it was a method passed down by immortal masters, it was certainly no simple thing.

So he stopped overthinking and simply poured more internal energy into the Soul Banner.

Better to earn another black bead with that time.

The morning sun crept through the window.

It was about the hour of Chen(7-9am).

Time for another shift.

Working as a prison guard was tedious, but fortunately, inmates died every day. The massive prison held countless criminals.

Old Xiang simply used the artifact in his hand to collect their lingering souls as sustenance.

Everything proceeded as usual.

By evening, he finished work and headed straight home.

The second Yin-Yang convergence of the day could not be missed.

Still no sign of qi.

But Old Xiang didn’t feel discouraged.

Knock knock.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

Seated cross-legged on his bed, Old Xiang opened his eyes and landed lightly on the ground.

In just two breaths, he was already at the courtyard gate.

Peeking through a crack, he saw it was none other than Shizhu standing outside.

Creak-

The door opened. Old Xiang looked at Shizhu with slight puzzlement.

“Boss, I just got off shift, thought I’d come check on you,” Shizhu smiled, raising the wine jug and a basket of dishes he carried, the aroma of meat wafted out.

Just as he was about to step in, Old Xiang shifted his foot forward, bracing it against the door and blocking Shizhu’s entry.

It wasn’t quite a rejection, but it certainly wasn’t an invitation.

Old Xiang shook his head and said calmly, “Go home.”

His tone was flat, yet carried a deep well of emotions.

“Boss, if something’s wrong, tell me. You can’t carry it all yourself. How far do you think you’ll make it like that?” Shizhu didn’t leave. Instead, his urgency deepened.

Old Xiang’s expression dimmed, and finally his tense body relaxed: “Alright.”

“Come in.”

He removed his foot from the doorframe.

Shizhu hadn’t thought it was anything serious, until he stepped into the inner room.

Then he froze, stunned, the wine jug and food basket falling to the ground with a thud.

His lips trembled.

“H-how could this be?!”

Shizhu dropped to his knees, choking with sobs.

(Chapter End)