Chapter Eighty-One: How Can a Severed Limb Regrow?

Chapter Eighty-One: How Can a Severed Limb Regrow? (Second Update)

In the house on the Unmoving Peak, Fan Lanzhou lay motionless beneath his covers, his face still covered in scars, though the bleeding had stopped.

Around him stood six people: Master Tianhe, Gu Xijin, Song Shoude, Fang Junmei, Yang Xiaoman, and Linghu Jinjiu. All watched silently as Chunyu Qian examined Fan Lanzhou.

After his inspection, the old man pulled out a few medicinal pills and slipped them into Fan Lanzhou’s mouth.

Fan Lanzhou showed no sign of waking. Chunyu Qian motioned for the others to step outside.

…

Once they had left the room and gathered in the courtyard, Linghu Jinjiu, unable to contain his worry, asked, “Uncle-Master Chunyu, how is Second Senior Brother’s injury, truly?”

Chunyu Qian snorted coldly. “Anyone can see the extent of his wounds. Was it really necessary to summon me, you brats?” He exuded the air of an expert whose time was precious.

The group shifted, a little embarrassed.

Chunyu Qian continued, “You’ve seen the damage to his organs—they’re all but shattered. It’s a miracle the boy could keep fighting Feng Wanhai after that. The most severe injury is there, but with a year or two, and my pills, he should recover. The real trouble is his severed arm. If it doesn’t regrow, it will certainly hinder his cultivation and fighting ability in the future.”

He glanced at Fang Junmei and the other two before going on, “Even in our cultivation world, the regeneration of a severed limb is an enormous challenge. Unless one acquires some rare natural treasure or an extraordinary cultivation art, it’s nearly impossible. And I have nothing like that in my possession.”

“Uncle-Master, may I ask what kind of natural treasures are required? We’ll find a way to obtain them,” asked Yang Xiaoman, her eyes still red, her former cheerfulness gone.

Chunyu Qian, every inch the grandmaster, replied, “There are certainly treasures in the cultivation world that can restore a severed limb, especially in countries rich in resources. Of those I know, there are only two. The first is called Earth Dragon Saliva.”

“This substance is secreted by a rare beast known as the Earth Dragon. It appears blue-gray, thick and viscous, and emits a nauseating stench. Disgusting as it is, it works wonders for regenerating lost limbs.”

Just hearing about it made their stomachs churn.

Catching their expressions, Chunyu Qian chuckled. “Despite its name, the Earth Dragon is actually a type of giant lizard. Or so I recall.”

Whoosh!

He pointed into the air, and vital energy shot forth.

Space coalesced into a mirror-like surface, within which appeared a monstrous, flame-wreathed, crimson lizard—hideous and terrifying.

After studying the image, Yang Xiaoman asked, “Where can it be found?”

Chunyu Qian replied, “The creature loves fire and dwells only in places of extreme heat and flowing lava. Exactly where, I’m not sure. And only the saliva of an Earth Dragon at the Dao Embryo stage or higher will have the desired effect.”

Fang Junmei and the others frowned deeply at this.

“And the second?” Master Tianhe asked.

“The second item is called the Spring of Vital Breath. It’s even harder to find than Earth Dragon Saliva. Legend says it heals any bodily injury with miraculous efficacy—not just for our human race, but for beasts and other kinds as well. I’ve only heard of it, never seen it myself.”

The mood darkened further; the first option, for all its repulsiveness, seemed more feasible.

For a moment, silence fell.

“I will instruct the elders and disciples of our sect to look into these two items. Perhaps one can be found in some cultivation market. The three of you needn’t be overly anxious. As long as Lanzhou’s life is safe, there’s always hope for his arm to be regrown,” Master Tianhe said quietly.

Gu Xijin added, “I’ll keep an ear out during my travels as well. No need for undue worry, junior brothers and sister.”

The three thanked them.

There was nothing more to say. Each took their leave, until only Fang Junmei and his two companions remained.

After a while, Linghu Jinjiu and Yang Xiaoman also departed to resume their cultivation, leaving Fang Junmei alone.

…

The next morning, Linghu Jinjiu and Yang Xiaoman headed for the valley. Today, the Floating Dust Group’s tournament continued, and it was their turn to compete. Whether they wished to or not, they had to participate.

Fang Junmei remained behind; with two people still unconscious atop the mountain, someone had to stay and care for them.

Today was the tournament’s round of sixteen, with Linghu Jinjiu facing Ning Jiuyi’s disciple, Hui Eleven, while Yang Xiaoman was matched against Shen Qier of Embroidered Smoke Peak.

First up was Linghu Jinjiu’s match.

Perhaps spurred by Fan Lanzhou’s injury, Linghu Jinjiu fought with unusual vigor. As soon as he took the stage, he unleashed his signature Drunken Dragon Sword Art, dominating Hui Eleven from start to finish.

Because Feng Wanhai had lost, Ning Jiuyi was desperate; he had to stop Linghu Jinjiu and Yang Xiaoman’s advance at any cost.

Hui Eleven was an unremarkable-looking young man, dressed in gray cloth, about twenty-five or six, with single-lidded eyes, thin brows, a small nose, and a tiny mouth—just the sort of face that would disappear in a crowd.

Though his looks were plain and his expression calm, the murderous intent buried in his eyes was noticed by those with battle experience; it was a killing aura forged in seas of blood.

Indeed, he was an extraordinary assassin, trained in the mortal underworld, and had caught Ning Jiuyi’s eye to become his disciple.

Though his attacks were not as formidable as Linghu Jinjiu’s, he refused to surrender, dodging with remarkable speed and using a smoke-like technique to attack from concealment.

In the end, Linghu Jinjiu triumphed, but not without sustaining serious injuries himself.

Ning Jiuyi’s disciples, with their shameless strategy of wounding opponents even if they couldn’t win, left many outer disciples—who once supported them—unable to watch, cursing their treachery under their breath.

Next was Yang Xiaoman versus Shen Qier.

As Yang Xiaoman had predicted, Shen Qier possessed beauty of both face and figure, as alluring as her senior sister Ji Nujiao, and her swordsmanship was no less impressive.

Yet Yang Xiaoman, relying on her eerily slow and unpredictable sword art, managed to win the match.

Shen Qier, though not a disciple of Ning Jiuyi, fought with all her might for the final prize, leaving Yang Xiaoman wounded as well.

Both emerged victorious, but it was a costly victory.

…

The most dazzling performance of the day, however, belonged once again to Duan Qingkuang, personally instructed by Gu Xijin. His prowess seemed to rival that of Long Jinyi and Gu Xijin in their prime, leaving many cultivators secretly astounded.

And Duan Qingkuang would be Linghu Jinjiu’s next opponent. With Linghu Jinjiu having kept some reserve, could he defeat this formidable adversary and advance to the final four?