Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 109 Communication, Conversation, Cane and Umbrella

In this quiet room, the two began their difficult adjustment period.

They first thought independently, and then every ten minutes or so, they would look up at each other and exchange their conclusions.

"This word, in the ancient Archaic language family, means 'compression.'" Daisy pointed to a symbol in her notebook, her brow furrowed. "But in a biological context, it might refer to the atrophy of some kind of organ."

Xilun closed his eyes and sensed it for a moment, then shook his head in denial: "No. It's not shrinkage, it's the instantaneous contraction of the alveoli after extreme expansion. I can feel the sensation of energy being forcibly squeezed out. It should be translated as collapse."

Daisy paused for a moment, then quickly made a few calculations on the paper, her eyes lighting up: "Collapse"—that makes perfect sense in the second half of the description of the tides! Your intuition is very accurate.

During this process, the division of labor between the two became extremely clear.

Daisy's knowledge of the occult is like a vast library, far surpassing that of a novice like Siron who only came to the field halfway through.

With the foundation laid by the master-level Iron Wall Breathing Technique, Xilun possesses a level of sensitivity in physical cultivation and energy perception that Daisy cannot match.

Regarding this mysterious stone carving that inscribes the code of power into characters, the two individuals each have their strengths and weaknesses. Only through continuous communication and verification of each other's ideas can they accurately determine the true meaning of each obscure word.

Time flew by in their intense concentration. Most of the time, the two remained silent with their heads down, the only sound the scratching of pens on paper.

When they occasionally got stuck, they would look up and engage in heated discussions, sometimes even arguing heatedly over the judgment of a word class.

An hour later, the pen in Xilun's hand made a crisp snapping sound. He casually threw away the broken pen refill, which had split due to excessive force, took a new pen from his pocket, and continued to bury himself in his notes.

Two hours later, the intense mental work had left both of them looking somewhat pale.

Xilun stopped writing, took out a minty-scented throat lozenge from his inner pocket, unwrapped it, and ate it himself.

He felt the coolness melt in his dry throat, then peeled another one and naturally handed it to Daisy next to him.

Daisy didn't stand on ceremony and took the candy, putting it in her mouth. The two ate while continuing to point to the pictures on the paper and discuss their conversation.

After getting through the initial period of mutual testing, they stopped having any casual conversations about life or other matters.

The two were completely absorbed in their work, their attention drawn to each other like iron filings drawn to a magnet.

The sky gradually darkened without anyone noticing, and the torrential rain outside had completely stopped, but the room on the fourth floor was still only illuminated by glaring lights.

As the hands of the wall clock pointed to the dead of night, the bell finally rang to remind everyone of the time.

Four hours have passed.

Celen and Daisy gathered up the mountain of draft papers and slowly walked down the stairs from the fourth floor.

When they returned to the library on the first floor, which was still dimly lit, Daisy could no longer maintain her ladylike demeanor. She collapsed onto a large single sofa chair like a lump of mud.

She rubbed her throbbing temples and complained hoarsely, "I'm definitely not taking this kind of brain-draining job again. It's more tiring than dissecting a mutated ghoul!"

Looking at her exhausted appearance, a rare gentleness flashed in Xilun's eyes. He carefully put the tidied translation into his pocket and said solemnly, "Thank you for your help. Without your theoretical support, I would not have been able to overcome those deadly spell traps."

Daisy closed her eyes and casually waved her hand: "Alright, don't be so polite, we're all friends."

Upon hearing those two words, Xilun visibly paused, then repeated softly, "Friends?"

Daisy seemed to notice his strange behavior and used her hands to support herself as she got up from the chair.

She stretched lazily, revealing her stunning figure, then pursed her lips and said, "We're friends, I guess. In the end, I'm just returning a favor to you."

Previously, when I was under Mentor Raine's tutelage and we went out to play, I planned to collect some special industrial waste from an abandoned factory to concoct potions. Unfortunately, I had terrible luck and encountered a mutated monster.

She recalled the scene, her face still pale: "You know, my major in mysticism is more theoretical and alchemy-oriented, and I have no direct combat ability at all. I haven't even mastered basic fighting techniques, so I can't deal with those thick-skinned things at all."

Moreover—it was the first time I had ever seen such an ugly, serpentine mutant covered in tumors. I was so scared that my legs went weak and I couldn't even run away.

Xilun listened quietly to her story, and it was only after she mentioned it that he dug out the incident that had happened several months ago from the corner of his memory.

He remembered that day when he had mastered the breathing technique, killed the Garuda Serpent, and even obtained its innate black scale pattern.

He said in a calm tone, "It was just something I did on the spur of the moment, nothing more than a small favor."

Daisy chuckled and pointed to the translated manuscript in Xilun's pocket: "It was nothing, really. We're even now, and we can say we've gotten to know each other again."

She put away her smile, flipped through her notes to check the progress, and her tone became professional and serious again: "Based on today's efficiency, it will probably take another three days to translate the entire stone carving."

Just to be on the safe side, we need to check every word. The two of us come here for four hours a day, at one pound per hour. That's eight pounds a day, and thirty-two pounds for four days.

She looked up at Xilun with some concern: "This is no small sum. You were just baptized not long ago, do you have enough money? If not, I can pay part of it for you first."

Xilun shook his head, his tone resolute: "I'll pay."

He knew very well that this breathing technique was crucial to how far he could go in the future, and naturally he had to bear all the expenses himself. He didn't want to incur debts that would be difficult to repay on such a core matter.

Xilun quickly assessed his financial situation in his mind.

He had previously obtained thirty pounds of compensation from the inspector Dick who had extorted him, and with his remaining savings, he had about sixty-eight pounds.

In addition, he now works as a charioteer, and his weekly wages over three weeks have accumulated to nine pounds, bringing his total assets to seventy-seven pounds.

After deducting the 32 pounds venue fee, he would still have 45 pounds left, enough to sustain high-intensity nutritional supplements and purchase medicines for a period of time, which he could fully afford.

He lowered his head and touched the nascent translation in his pocket again, a version that combined their respective interpretations.

He knew very well that if he were to translate alone, achieving the current level of coherence and security would require at least three more months of intensive study of the occult, even working day and night. Those extra sixteen pounds were well worth it.

Siren composed himself and nodded slightly to Daisy: "Then it's settled. You've worked hard today, see you at the same time tomorrow."

Daisy nodded, picked up her handbag, and prepared to leave.

She stopped halfway through her walk, turned around, and looked Xilun up and down as if she had suddenly discovered a new continent. She asked, "By the way, I haven't asked you yet. Who bought you this dress? You have excellent taste."

Xilun glanced down at the excellent-quality navy blue suit he was wearing, and Yuri's warm yet profound smile flashed through his mind. He said calmly, "It was a gift from an elder, and also from my superior."

Daisy nodded slightly, scrutinizing him with a discerning eye, and commented objectively, "The clothes fit well."

However, to truly match this outfit, a silk top hat or a silver-plated cane would make it even more perfect. As it stands, it lacks a certain gentlemanly refinement.

The idea of ​​bulletproof gear flashed through Xiren's mind again. He thought about it very seriously and retorted, "I personally prefer an umbrella to a cane that can only be used for decoration and hitting the ground."

His eyes deepened, and he added in a low voice, "Moreover, the best umbrella material is bulletproof, and a deadly blade can be hidden in the handle."

This way, it will be safer to travel in this foggy city.

Daisy was taken aback by his peculiar pragmatic thinking. She rolled her eyes, muttered "What an unromantic violent maniac," and then turned and strode out of the library.

Xilun watched her figure disappear through the doorway, then quickly walked into the darkness outside.

He needed to get back to the hotel as soon as possible, while his memory was still fresh, to translate the "Great Ocean Whale Guiding Technique" he had done today.

The fragments truly simulate a small-scale blood and qi flow within the body.

He cannot afford to waste a single second of his time.

In the foggy city during the rainy season, the sky is always gloomy, like a gray sponge soaked with dirty water.

For the next three days, Xilun's life was like a clock with its gears meshing intricately: monotonous, dull, and filled with suffocating pressure.

During the day, he would report to the Grey Fleet at White Raven Wharf, braving the biting river wind to familiarize himself with the escorts' daily routes and observe the deadly shadows that lurked beneath the water's surface.

Every night, after finishing his physical training at the Iron Cross Fighting Club, he would appear on time in the dimly lit, mysterious stone carving observation room on the fourth floor.

Daisy was still dressed in an elegant dress, but as the decoding work progressed, the dark circles under her eyes became more and more pronounced, and her once meticulously combed hair gradually became more and more disheveled.

"Silen, look here." Daisy slammed her pen down on the draft paper, the nib spreading a blot of black ink on the parchment.

Her voice was hoarse from prolonged use as she pointed to an ancient character shaped like a twisted vortex. "In the priestly language of the Fourth Age, this word is usually interpreted as the trembling of the soul."

.

However, placing this within the logic of Qi and blood circulation in breathing techniques makes absolutely no sense. Are you suggesting that while you're circulating your Qi, you should also imagine yourself being threatened by an evil spirit?

Xiren did not answer immediately. He sat quietly in the hardwood chair, his eyes slightly closed.

His breathing was extremely slow, and the rise and fall of his chest was extremely faint, as if he had fallen into some kind of deep hibernation.

However, within Daisy's unseen body, Siron was carefully mobilizing that trace of the powerful energy belonging to a first-order baptized being.

That force, like a gentle stream, flowed slowly through the ribs in his chest, following the incomplete path he had deduced from his memory.

When the energy reached a very hidden acupoint near the heart, Xilun's brows suddenly furrowed.

He tried to oscillate his energy in the same violent, disordered way as the "Soul Tremors".

boom!

With just the slightest tremor, Xilun felt as if a heavy hammer had slammed into his heart.

His heart skipped a beat, then began to race wildly like a drumbeat. A metallic, sweet taste shot into his throat, and his face flushed an unnatural red in an instant.

Xilun suddenly opened his eyes and forcibly cut off the supply of that energy.

He took a deep breath of the cold air, forcibly suppressing the churning blood in his body, a hint of fear flashing in his dark eyes.

"It's not the tremor of the soul," Xilun's voice was low, with a hint of his recent heavy breathing, "it's compression." If that kind of shock were to erupt irregularly in the blood and qi, it would directly shatter the cultivator's cardiovascular system.

Its true meaning is to utilize the instantaneous change in air pressure within the chest cavity to exert high-intensity physical compression on the heart, thereby unleashing a pumping capacity far exceeding normal levels.

Daisy was stunned for a good ten seconds upon hearing this explanation. Her beautiful eyes were filled with disbelief, and then she quickly picked up a pen and began to work out theoretical deductions on a draft paper.

"Physical compression—simulating the pressure on internal organs from the deep sea environment through air pressure—" Daisy muttered to herself as she drew a complex diagram of the stress structure of human organs on a piece of paper.

A few minutes later, she let out a long breath, her gaze towards Xilen now filled with awe, as if looking at a monster. "It actually worked. Xilen, you're a complete madman. Did you just try the wrong energy pathways within your body?"

Xilun picked up the water glass on the table, took a sip of the already cold water, and washed away the lingering rusty taste in his mouth.

He stared expressionlessly at the dark blue stone carving that exuded a sense of vast divinity, and said calmly, "How can you know how deep the abyss is if you don't try it yourself?"

The language of occultism is too easily ambiguous; if we don't correct it through real physical feedback, all we'll create is a death warrant.

In the time that followed, the two once again fell into that state of extreme focus and high pressure at work.

The third night passed.

The fourth night has arrived.

This was the deadline they had agreed upon. The three thousand ancient characters on the stone carving had been dismantled, analyzed, and reassembled bit by bit, like dismembering a huge beast.

The air in the room had become somewhat stuffy due to a lack of circulation, mixed with the musty smell of paper, the fishy smell of ink, and the faint smell of sweat from the two people.

"The final loop of the technique." Daisy rubbed her bloodshot eyes, her fingers trembling slightly from holding the pen for so long. "This conjunction connects the 'sinking' of the torso's bones with the 'rising' of the limbs' strength. But—this violates the fundamental laws of fluid dynamics in biology. Qi and blood cannot simultaneously produce diametrically opposed trajectories without external intervention."

Xilun stood up and walked to the thick bulletproof glass.

He frantically replayed in his mind every single blood and qi path he had analyzed over the past four days.

Those paths were like a giant, intricate spider web, constantly flashing and intertwining on his retina.

"It's not that there was no external intervention." Xilun's pupils suddenly contracted, and his gaze was fixed on the tail of the huge whale on the stone carving.

There is an extremely subtle ripple engraving there, which would be completely missed if you didn't look closely.

"It's gravity." Xiren turned around, strode to the table, snatched the pen from Daisy's hand, and fiercely drew a downward arrow on the paper. "This guiding technique is called 'Heavy Sea' because it requires the practitioner to compress their own energy density to an extremely terrifying degree the instant they breathe. The blood and energy within the body become as heavy as mercury, and thus, at the moment the bones settle, this extreme gravitational difference forces the energy in the limbs upwards!"

As Daisy stared at the arrow on the paper, its force seemingly piercing through the paper, a thunderous sound reverberated in her mind.

All theoretical barriers collapsed at that moment, and a complete, closed-loop, logically rigorous cultivation system, full of terrifying explosive power, was truly displayed before her eyes.

She leaned back in her chair, feeling somewhat exhausted, looking at the thick stack of core translations on the table, totaling more than 20,000 words, along with annotations and deductions totaling 50,000 to 60,000 words.

"It's done." Daisy's voice was as soft as a sigh, yet it carried a sense of relief. "Siron, we have truly and completely extracted this ancient stone carving that belongs to the Fourth Era."

Xiren stood by the table, looking at the crudely bound booklet.

His hands slowly clenched, feeling a slight warmth from his excitement emanating from his palms.

He carefully tucked the heavy booklet into the innermost pocket of his trench coat; even through the fabric, he could feel the weight of that knowledge.

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