Chapter Fifty-Two: Advancing to Floating Dust

Chapter Fifty-Two: Advancing to the Floating Dust Realm

Ning Jiuyi gazed deeply at this disciple he valued most, a hint of helplessness flickering in his eyes. Yet he did not press further. Instead, he turned to the one leading the group on his right and asked, “Chengzhou, what about you? What are your thoughts?”

The leader on the right was an elderly man, his features marked by age. Compared to Ning Jiuyi, whose appearance was well-preserved, he looked even older. His eyes were profound, his expression devoid of emotion.

This man was Bai Chengzhou, Ning Jiuyi’s eldest disciple. Although he had already reached the mid-stage Dao Embryo realm, it was said he had never truly grasped the essence of the Sword Dao, and thus, Ning Jiuyi’s favor towards him had gradually waned.

Hearing Ning Jiuyi’s question, Bai Chengzhou managed a bitter smile. “Master, in my opinion, for now, this matter can only end here.”

“Eldest brother, what are you saying?”
“How can we let those people from the Motionless Peak off so easily?”
“Is our junior brother to have died in vain?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the others erupted in protest, each face filled with indignation, turning the grand hall into a marketplace of clamor.

Bai Chengzhou merely smiled bitterly in silence, the smile betraying his awareness that, in the eyes of his fellow disciples, Feng Wanhai had long since become their true leader.

“Enough! All of you, be silent!” Ning Jiuyi snapped after casting an impatient glance over them.

Instantly, the hall fell into absolute silence.

“Chengzhou, continue,” said Ning Jiuyi.

“Yes, Master.” Bai Chengzhou nodded and went on, “Let us set aside whether or not our junior brother was truly slain by someone from the Motionless Peak. Even if they were responsible, without irrefutable evidence, we can do nothing to them within the sect. If we attack the Motionless Peak and cause an uproar, the sect master will surely hold us at fault.”

Ning Jiuyi nodded slightly, signaling him to proceed.

Bai Chengzhou continued, “If they did kill our junior brother, they would certainly have destroyed all traces. No matter who interrogates them, they would never admit to it—anyone in their position would do the same. Even if Master confronts them, nothing good will come of it.”

“So you mean to let it go?” Ning Jiuyi’s tone was chilling.

“Of course not.” Bai Chengzhou’s lips curled into a faint smile. “When the Grand Sect Competition comes, if any of you encounter someone from the Motionless Peak, show no mercy—strike with all your might, so long as you do not kill. And once you leave the mountain, if you cross paths with them, you may act as you see fit—just keep your hands clean. Our junior brother was family to us. This debt of blood must, of course, be repaid.”

The last words, that mention of brotherhood, felt cold and hollow. There was little true kinship—merely self-interest and a desire to curry favor before Ning Jiuyi.

Yet between Ning Jiuyi and Xiao Yunyu, there was genuine affection; after all, he had brought the disciple up the mountain himself and placed considerable hopes in him.

Hearing Bai Chengzhou’s words, Ning Jiuyi’s gaze grew colder still—hatred flashing in his eyes. Whether or not it was true, he had already decided to lay blame on the Motionless Peak.

“Did you all hear your elder brother’s words?” Ning Jiuyi swept his gaze over the assembly, his voice icy.

All responded in haste, murderous intent flashing in their eyes.

“Spread the word discreetly—let it be known that Yunyu has been killed, and the suspicion falls most heavily on the Motionless Peak... When you go out, show restraint and sorrow, but do not go looking for trouble with them. I want the sect, this time, to stand with me,” Ning Jiuyi added grimly.

Again, all answered in the affirmative.

Within Peach Blossom Valley, dark currents surged unseen.

But for now, none of this concerned Fang Junmei.

Two and a half years later, he advanced to the ninth level of Qi Drawing.

After another five years, he reached the crucial moment of opening the eighth Heavenly Bridge and advancing to the Floating Dust stage.

This eighth Heavenly Bridge was located at the sea of qi within the dantian. Once pierced through, a sea of stars, ethereal and illusory, would manifest there. From that moment on, all spiritual energy absorbed through cultivation would gather here, rather than dispersing through the meridians.

This sea of qi was known as the Foundation of the Dao. Only after building this foundation could one be said to have truly set foot on the path of cultivation. Before this, the Qi Drawing stage was little more than a step above the martial arts of the mortal world.

To open the gate to the Floating Dust stage and pierce through the eighth Heavenly Bridge required either repeated attempts or a tremendous external force.

Fang Junmei already possessed such a force—the Qi Sea Pill given by Chunyu Qian. Its very purpose was to help open the eighth Heavenly Bridge. Yet, success was not guaranteed; it still required the accumulation of one’s own spiritual power.

At this moment, Fang Junmei had not yet consumed the Qi Sea Pill. He was relying on his own strength, making attempt after attempt, familiarizing himself with the manipulation of spiritual power.

The seven Heavenly Bridges already opened were now like conduits, channeling power from seven directions into the chaotic sea of qi within his dantian.

Without the Qi Sea Pill, he would need to use the spiritual power absorbed through these seven bridges to assault the sea of qi again and again, eventually forging the foundation.

All around Fang Junmei lay dull, gray stones, their inner sword qi exhausted—these were sword spirit stones, now drained and lifeless, utterly useless.

Yet in his hand, a single luminous spirit stone remained, its energy swirling like a misty dragon, threading into Fang Junmei’s nostrils.

Time passed.

Eventually, the flow of energy ceased abruptly. Fang Junmei’s eyes snapped open, twin flashes of icy brilliance glinting in his pupils.

He glanced at the sword spirit stones in his hand, then rummaged through the storage pouch at his waist.

“Damn!” After a moment’s calculation, Fang Junmei muttered to himself, “I’ve used too many sword spirit stones in my cultivation. Otherwise, even without the Qi Sea Pill, I would have had the confidence to break through the eighth Heavenly Bridge on my own, achieving the Floating Dust realm... As things stand, I can’t afford to save it.”

So it turned out Fang Junmei had hoped to spare the Qi Sea Pill.

At this point, he still lacked the broader perspective. If only he knew—once his cultivation advanced, items like the Qi Sea Pill would be nothing of value, and he’d never bother saving one.

But his horizons had yet to broaden—still too young!

Since it could not be spared, he had no choice but to use it.

He poured out the Qi Sea Pill and swallowed it in a single gulp.

No sooner had it entered his mouth than it transformed into a surging torrent of spiritual power, flooding the seven Heavenly Bridges—its force at least five times greater than what Fang Junmei could draw from spirit stones alone.

Not daring to waste the opportunity, Fang Junmei took out all his remaining sword spirit stones and urgently activated the Peach Blossom Sword Manual, absorbing the energy within to assist the pill’s power.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A series of sounds, perceptible only to Fang Junmei, echoed within his dantian.

Seven torrents of power surged through the seven Heavenly Bridges, relentlessly battering the chaotic blockage within his dantian—a scene like seven raging bulls charging forward.

An excruciating pain welled up from his core, as though his dantian were being torn apart by a raging sea.

This was the pain that could not be avoided!

If one could not endure, failure was certain. Many cultivators had fallen at this very trial, their willpower unable to withstand the ordeal.

A lesser man might have screamed aloud, but Fang Junmei, having braved the six pill trials, merely furrowed his brow and pressed on in silence.

Time slipped by, bit by bit.

The light in his room dimmed steadily, the result of spirit energy being rapidly drained from the sword spirit stones.

Fang Junmei’s aura, meanwhile, climbed swiftly, approaching a critical threshold.

Boom!

With a final, muffled explosion—heard only by himself—the eighth Heavenly Bridge was at last breached!

Within Fang Junmei’s dantian, where chaos and blockage once reigned, a small, illusory starry world took form. Flecks of white light shimmered and drifted, an unbelievable sight.

From the seven Heavenly Bridges, every trace of spiritual power once stored in his meridians now found its destination, pouring into the dantian and coalescing into arcs of white energy.

The Star Sea of the Dantian!

This was the very Star Sea that Linghu Jinjiu had described to him—at last, opened.

Witnessing this with his spiritual sense, Fang Junmei could not restrain his excitement; his brow twitched in delight.

With a shout, the pain vanished in an instant—replaced by a sense of boundless ease. Unable to help himself, he ceased the sword manual’s circulation and let out a long, exuberant howl.

The Floating Dust Realm!

He had finally reached it.

Fang Junmei was now over forty years old, yet his appearance was unchanged from when he first entered the Peach Blossom Sword Sect.

Catching up with time, overtaking the fleeting years—he was, at last, beginning to fulfill his promise.