The Spiritual Pivot of Mortal Cultivation

When the medicine cart returned to the mountain, the sky was already very dark.

The wind from beyond the western ridge rushed in through the mountain pass, causing the seals on the vehicle to rattle slightly. The wooden wheels rolled over the gravel, producing a dull, grinding sound, like someone repeatedly striking an old bell in an empty valley—monotonous, yet unsettling.

The stench of blood left by the ambush earlier had long been dispersed by the mountain wind. But as Bai Xuanxin carried his medicine box and walked beside the carriage, he could still discern a faint trace of rust and stench, mixed with the damp earth, grass, and bitter herbs. It was as if the mountain road had concealed a trace of the lingering scent of the dead in his sleeve.

The group was not moving very fast.

Deacon Liang stepped forward, his sword sheathed but not yet out of his hand. Two disciples in blue robes guarded the medicine cart, one in front and one behind. The injured porter was temporarily tied to the side of the cart, occasionally gasping for breath, his face pale as blue. The two survivors had already been taken back to the mountain gate by another group, along with the corpse on the slope, which was hastily wrapped in a mat and used as evidence.

The delivery of medicine must continue.

This route for medicine must not be cut off.

The Seven Mysteries Sect and the Wild Wolf Gang have been fighting for so long that it's no longer just about the lives of a few disciples, or who won a single fight. They're fighting for the path, for morale, for who can still push the medicine cart across the route, and who will be the first to sheathe their sword and cower in fear.

If we turn back today because of an ambush, we will lose more than just a few packets of medicine.

What was lost later was the courage of the entire line.

Bai Xuanxin understood this perfectly, so he didn't say a word the whole way, he just watched.

Look at the post station.

Look at the tavern.

Watching the镖队 (bodyguards/escorts).

Look at the footprints, the seals, the horse sweat, and see which section of the road the tire tracks will sink first after it rains, and which section of the road looks easy to travel, but the vehicle will quietly struggle.

Most outer disciples who made this trip would only remember where people were ambushed and where they almost lost their lives. But in Bai Xuanxin's eyes, there was much more to it than that.

When they arrived at the first post station, the postman, Old Huang, was still squatting under the shed, scraping a nearly broken wooden stake with a small knife. When he saw the cart come in, he only looked up once, his gaze sweeping over the flanks of the packhorses, the muddy tracks on the wooden wheels, and the injured legs of the porters, before he lowered his head and continued scraping the wood, as if he hadn't seen anything at all.

But Bai Xuanxin knew that he had seen everything.

These are the kind of people who aren't on the sect's register or in the sect's ledger. They're usually buried among the smoke and horse manure, and nobody bothers to give them a second glance. But along the way, the first to notice who walks even a fraction faster, whose horse is sweating profusely, who was brought along at night, or who has been replaced after bloodshed on the road, are often these kinds of people.

They are inconspicuous.

The more inconspicuous something is, the more valuable it is.

Old Huang is observant, tight-lipped, and knowledgeable about both wind and horses.

Bai Xuanxin silently made a mental note of it.

After refilling the medicine cart with water and replacing the straw ropes, it continued onward. After passing the second mountain pass, it arrived at the fork in the road and the tavern.

The tavern wasn't bustling during the day; only an old wooden signboard hung askew at the entrance, its edges blackened by wind and rain. Under the eaves, a woman with a headscarf squatted, still picking vegetables, her sleeves rolled up loosely, revealing a section of her calloused wrist. As the medicine cart passed by, the bunch of vegetables in her hand paused very briefly before resuming its work.

The movements were as delicate as the wind blowing a candle flame.

The woman was also keeping a record.

Record the mud, record the wheel, record the people, record the time.

Taverns are places where dust accumulates and so does information. Which caravan arrived earlier than usual, which group of people had mud or dust from the town streets on their shoes, which faces were new to the sight of, and which hands had been stained with fresh blood on knives—others might only glance at them and forget, but in the eyes of these women, everything could be as clear as vegetable stalks, one by one.

The woman at the crossroads tavern is quick-witted and shrewd; she's not someone you can become close to, but she's someone you can borrow to listen to gossip in the future.

Further down, they ran into the same caravan they had seen before.

The head镖师 (bodyguard/escort) Han Er Kui was still riding his skinny horse, with a dark face, aquiline nose, and a very steady back. When the medicine cart from the Seven Mysteries Sect arrived, he first glanced at the seal, then quickly looked away, merely clasped his hands and stepped back slightly, without asking a single question or giving it another look.

This person's greatest strength lies not in the knife, but in his sense of proportion.

He knows what to see, what not to ask, what to pretend not to know, and what to keep in mind. Such a person is often not the most ruthless, but often the most capable of dominating the road.

Han Erkui is discerning about goods, not people; he understands the rules and knows how to make a living.

We arrived at the Zhendong Pharmacy again.

Xu San stood behind the counter, his face pale and almost bluish, still maintaining an unassuming demeanor. Once the seal was removed, he inspected the goods extremely quickly. First, he felt the medicine pouch to see if it was dry or wet, then he checked the color of the medicine, then he flipped through the ledger, and finally he slipped the medicine change slip into his sleeve. He didn't utter a single unnecessary word throughout the entire process.

Such people may seem weak.

But the more someone is like that, the less likely they are to let slip anything.

The owner of a pharmacy doesn't need to be a fighter.

As long as you keep your mouth shut, act quickly, and know when to pretend you didn't see anything, that's enough.

Bai Xuanxin observed and took notes as she went, and the mental record became increasingly detailed.

Which rest stop replenishes water the fastest?

Which tavern is best at listening to rumors?

Which caravan appears rough on the surface but is actually disciplined at heart?

Which section of the mountain path becomes muddy and sinks the wheels after rain? Which slope is covered by low-lying shrubs? These are the perfect places to bury people.

These things are still just other people's paths at this moment.

But a very faint, yet very clear feeling was gradually arising in Bai Xuanxin's heart—

What I'm fighting for in this sect is never a few empty compliments, nor is it the trivial wins and losses among outer disciples.

Because everything he's doing now is ultimately for his own benefit.

To acquire resources faster.

In order to improve combat power more quickly.

And before Mo Juren truly turns against him, he should accumulate more resources to ensure he can enter the game, make a move, and escape alive.

As for the people and routes he noted down along the way, he wasn't in a hurry to touch them.

Because he knew that the true foundation of the underworld never lies in the open.

They are mostly buried in these dirty corners, stained with mud, blood, and the smell of smoke. Nobody pays any attention to them normally, but if one day they were pulled out one by one, they might just be able to weave a net to protect themselves from the wind and sword.

If in the future I really want to take over the Seven Mysteries Sect and break up the Wild Wolf Gang into a mortal force that I can use, then these "dirty corners" I've noted down along the way will come in handy sooner or later.

But it's not time to reach out yet.

So he only remembers, but doesn't act on it.

As the car passed the second slope, Deacon Liang finally turned around and gave Bai Xuanxin a brief glance.

"It seems like you didn't come here to deliver the medicine."

Bai Xuanxin carried the medicine box, her steps unhurried, and answered only one sentence:

"This disciple is finding his way."

Deacon Liang gave a cold laugh.

"So familiar with the place that you noticed the vegetables in the tavern woman's hands?"

The disciple in blue standing nearby was taken aback, as if he had just realized what Bai Xuanxin had been looking at all along the way.

Bai Xuanxin remained calm and did not rush to explain. She simply said:

"The knife is in the open, but the path is in the shadows. If someone really wants to disrupt the medicine supply chain, they might not target the medicine carts first, but rather these inconspicuous places. If the post station is half a day slow, the carts will not be able to travel fast; if a tavern lets slip a word, an ambush will be laid first; if the pharmacy owner is not tight-lipped, the investigation will eventually uncover the truth. I just think that since we are following this path, we should know how it survives."

A mountain breeze blew in his face, ruffling the corners of Steward Liang's sleeves.

He paused for a moment before speaking:

"Your eyes don't look like those of an outer disciple."

This was said very casually.

But as Bai Xuanxin heard this, her heart gradually calmed down.

Because he knew that since Deacon Liang was willing to say those words, it meant that what he had seen today had not been in vain. The veterans in the gang wouldn't think highly of you just because you could say a few nice words, but if they truly felt that you had something in your eyes, that was a different matter.

By the time we arrived at the mountain gate, dusk had already fallen on the eaves.

As soon as the medicine cart entered, two disciples in blue robes escorted the goods to the pharmacy. The details of the survivors, the corpses, and the situation along the way were to be reported back to the side hall by Steward Liang. Bai Xuanxin was originally preparing to carry the medicine box back to the back mountain, but he was stopped halfway by the messenger disciple.

"Senior Brother Bai, Instructor Li requests your presence in the side room."

Bai Xuanxin paused, then turned around.

The lights in the side hall have been lit.

Instructor Li was still seated at the head of the table, but today there was another person next to him.

The man, dressed in a grey robe with wide sleeves and graying temples, possessed an exceptionally steady posture. He sat there silently and motionless, his presence even more imposing than the lights in the hall. Bai Xuanxin recognized him at a glance; he was no ordinary steward. He had seen him once before from afar in the hall, and he couldn't mistake such an imposing aura.

He is a senior disciple of the sect.

Bai Xuanxin entered the room and first bowed.

"Disciple Bai Xuanxin greets Instructor Li and Martial Uncle."

The old man in the gray robe glanced at him but did not speak immediately.

It was Instructor Li who spoke first:

"I've already heard about what happened on the medicine road today from Deacon Liang. You saw what you needed to see, and you took action when necessary. You didn't bring shame to the branch."

He paused briefly as he spoke, then pushed out a small ebony box from the table.

"This was approved by my uncle, who instructed the pharmacy to allocate an extra amount."

Bai Xuanxin lowered her gaze slightly, landing on the box.

The ebony is ungrained, the box is small, but the edges are finely ground, making it clear that it is not a rough box casually used to store medicine in a side hall.

Instructor Li said:

"Inside the box are three internal alchemy pills for nourishing tendons and strengthening the body, which are not part of the outer sect's usual practice. You've been bleeding these past few days, and your tendons and bones are currently in a state of flux. These pills will help suppress this, saving you a lot of suffering. In addition, the medicinal pool in the side hall and backyard has been opened for you for seven days, and you can go there once every night. As for how much you can consume from it, that depends on your own ability."

Upon hearing this, Bai Xuanxin's heart truly stirred.

This is far more than a butler casually handing over a bottle of medicinal wine or a packet of wound medicine.

The pharmacy prescribed extra pills.

A pond was built in the backyard of the side hall.

Moreover, the item was handed to him properly in front of Instructor Li and this senior uncle.

This is what true resource allocation looks like.

It's not just a simple "not bad".

It wasn't just because I liked it at first glance.

Instead, it was someone of real importance within the sect who nodded in agreement, willing to stake something that didn't originally belong to an outer disciple on him.

Bai Xuanxin took the wooden box with both hands and said in a deep voice:

"Thank you, Instructor Li. Thank you, Uncle-Master."

The old man in the gray robe then spoke, his voice low, yet it carried a chilling aura, like the roots of an old tree.

"No need for thanks." He looked at Bai Xuanxin, his gaze calm. "I'm giving you this not because I know how to talk, but because I want to see if you have the guts to take it. If you can't take it, even the best medicine will be wasted."

Bai Xuanxin bowed his head and replied, "This disciple understands."

The old man in the gray robe looked at him for a moment before adding casually:

"What Deacon Liang reported today is not just that you can fight."

"There's still a little bit left."

"This is even more valuable than fists and kicks. But if your eyes are too sharp and your mind can't keep up, you're most likely to go astray. You need to be aware of this."

After saying this, Instructor Li said no more and simply waved his hand.

"Go back. Don't rush to take the pills tonight; take care of your body first. Starting tomorrow, go to the pool according to the method the pharmacy gave you."

Bai Xuanxin bowed again before leaving the side hall.

As I stepped outside, the mountain breeze was blowing through the corridor.

He tucked the ebony box into his sleeve, feeling that although it was light, it felt very solid against his arm.

At least this time, I wasn't suffering alone anymore.

After returning to the back mountain, he didn't rush to touch the three internal alchemy pills. Instead, he lit a lamp, rolled up his sleeves, and tended to his wounds as usual.

On the mountain path during the day, the man with the broadsword brought down his blade. Although he managed to parry half of the blow, he relied on the strength of his entire frame and the combined force of water and fire, and was not seriously injured. However, the deep numbness in his fascia and the stagnation in his bones only truly surfaced at this moment.

Bai Xuanxin warmed the medicinal wine he had prepared and then pushed it down inch by inch along his shoulder, elbow, and forearm. When he reached the joints between the bones, the stagnation felt like cold iron buried in the flesh, very hard. But his technique was extremely steady, without the slightest lapse. After one round of the medicinal wine was applied, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and the heavy, sluggish feeling in his left arm, which had made it difficult to lift, slowly began to dissipate.

After tending to his external injuries, he placed the ebony box on the table and slowly opened it.

Inside were three pills, dark gold in color, with a subtle medicinal aroma that was not overpowering but rather deeply contained. Bai Xuanxin only needed to smell them once to know that this medicine was not for treating superficial injuries, but rather something specifically for moving the tendons and bones, nourishing vital energy, and strengthening the foundation.

This is what he truly lacks right now.

It's not a pain reliever.

It's not about promoting blood circulation.

Instead, he should truly suppress the temper he had just gained from drawing blood, taking hard hits, and being tempered in real combat.

Bai Xuanxin took out a pill, swallowed it with warm water, then sat cross-legged and slowly circulated the water and fire energies within his body.

Initially, the medicine wasn't particularly potent.

It was just a thin, gentle warmth that spread from the spleen and stomach, neither hot nor cold, like spring water thawing, silently seeping into every part of the body. But the further it went, the deeper the warmth became, like a very fine hammer, striking along the muscles, bones, gait, shoulders, hips, elbows, and knees, slowly pushing what was originally just floating on the skin deeper into the body.

The old skills are still somewhat superficial.

Like a fine knife just being sharpened, it is sharp, but it still needs a few real cuts and sharpenings before that layer of superficial gleam can truly be nurtured into the steel.

But things are different now.

The blood on the mountain path, the medicine in the side hall, the dull pain and heat rising from my bones, like hammer blows, finally slowly drove those things scattered in my eyes, hands, and heart into the cracks of my bones.

It's no longer just about "being able to fight".

Instead, it's becoming more and more like a skill that can be used to kill or save one's own life.

By the time the effects of the medicine had subsided, the night was already deep.

Bai Xuanxin slowly opened her eyes. Instead of resting immediately, she got up and went out, following the familiar path behind the mountain, heading towards the outer edge of Shenshou Valley.

The Wild Wolves gang outside is pressing in even harder.

But what he couldn't let go of was the other side.

God Hand Valley.

The night breeze was gentle outside the valley.

Bai Xuanxin didn't actually get close; she just stood on the slope where she could see the valley entrance in the distance and watched quietly.

The medicine shelves in the valley were faintly visible in the night, and a dim light shone through the cracks in the window of the small house. But what first reached his nose was not the light, but the smell of medicine.

miscellaneous.

It's more complicated than it was a few days ago.

It's no longer just the bitterness and nourishing properties of ordinary herbs and plants, but cold medicines, drying medicines, spirit-nourishing and blood-stabilizing medicines, and even several things that shouldn't be boiled together, all of them are suppressed in one wind, pushing outwards in a dull thud.

It was like several medicine furnaces catching fire at the same time, but the lids were tightly covered to prevent the medicinal aroma from truly dissipating.

Bai Xuanxin's brows slowly furrowed.

wrong.

This can no longer be explained simply by "nurturing the medicine".

He then turned his gaze toward the valley entrance.

At this time of day in the past, Han Li would usually show his face, either rummaging through the medicine shelves, fetching water, or hurrying past the house with herbs in his arms. But today, the valley was unusually quiet, and not a trace of him could be seen.

Han Li appeared even less frequently.

It's not just a matter of quantity.

It felt like being crushed in a valley by something, unable to even breathe freely.

But more importantly—

Despite the darkness and the smell of medicine, Bai Xuanxin could still clearly sense that the aura of "something pressing down" in Shenshou Valley was even stronger than before.

It's like a pot; the lid hasn't been lifted yet, but the fire underneath is already burning at its brightest.

Bai Xuanxin stood on the slope, motionless for a long time.

Outside, the Wild Wolf Gang has begun to push in through the medicine route.

Inside, in Shenshou Valley, things are almost out of control.

Both lines are tightening little by little.

Time is clearly running out for him.