The Spiritual Pivot of Mortal Cultivation

Seven Mysteries Gate, Rainbow Cloud Mountain.

Two days of continuous autumn rain made the mountain fog even heavier. The stone steps were slippery, the grass and trees drooped, and even the usually bustling martial arts training ground seemed a bit deserted today. Many outer disciples took shelter from the rain under the corridor, and only a few occasionally took advantage of a slight easing of the rain to rush out to an open space to practice a couple of rounds of punches, their shouts muffled by the damp wind.

In a secluded pine forest on the back mountain, Bai Xuanxin lay behind a damp, cold rock, quietly gazing at the mountain path below.

Before long, a black-covered carriage emerged from the depths of the rain.

The carriage was inconspicuous, with no flags or markings, but the escorts were all men in tight-fitting clothes, each with a sword at their waist and a wary look in their eyes. The wheels rolled slowly through the mud, but steadily. That cautiousness was definitely not the kind of pomp and circumstance one would expect from ordinary martial arts figures.

Bai Xuanxin only needed one glance to understand the situation.

Mo Juren has returned to the mountain.

He didn't move any closer, nor did he have any intention of taking the opportunity to test the waters. He simply lowered his body even further, letting the raindrops slide down his forehead.

Especially at times like these, it's best not to get close.

What's truly terrifying about someone like Mo Juren isn't when he's at his strongest, but rather when he knows his days are numbered and his mind is at its most shrewd. Such a person is utterly intolerant of the slightest deviation. I am now merely an outer disciple; even with some precognition, I am absolutely not qualified to stand before this old fox and test his strength.

Bai Xuanxin's gaze shifted slightly, landing on the slightly sunken wheel ruts of the carriage.

The vehicle was deeply embedded in the mud, with the rear axle particularly heavy, clearly indicating a considerable load. Mo Juren had been away for over half a year, and what he brought back was likely more than just medicinal herbs. Whether those things were meant to save lives or to kill, only he himself knew the truth.

"Now that the people are back, we should tighten our guard even more at God Hand Valley."

Once Bai Xuanxin made up his mind, he immediately stood up.

He came here to confirm, from afar, whether Mo Juren had returned to the mountains or not. Now that his purpose had been achieved, there was no reason for him to stay any longer.

As Bai Xuanxin retraced his steps along the forest path back to the front of the mountain, the coldness that had been hidden in the shadows on his face gradually faded. By the time he approached the training ground, his pace had slowed again, and his expression was as usual, as if he were just an outer disciple coming out for some fresh air after the rain.

Although the training ground was somewhat deserted due to the rain, it was not entirely empty.

The gray-robed disciples were scattered in twos and threes around the field, some leaning against pillars talking, others practicing their palm strikes and footwork in the open space under the eaves. In the muddy ground after the rain, some were lifting stone weights, some were driving wooden stakes, and others were practicing their swordsmanship shirtless. The cold air mixed with the sweat only highlighted the ruggedness unique to the outer sect of the Seven Mysteries Sect.

Bai Xuanxin's gaze swept across the area and quickly stopped at an open space next to the martial arts arena.

There stood a boy, holding a knife in his hand. The blade was long and thin, and its cold light was chilling.

The young man had a cold expression and a slender build, with a sharp, unapproachable air about him. He was practicing his swordplay on a piece of upright green wood, his strokes incredibly fast, one after another, so fast it was almost impossible to see where the blade began or ended. Only the flying wood chips and flailing bark revealed the sheer speed of his attacks.

Li Feiyu.

Bai Xuanxin watched from afar, a slight movement in her eyes.

If Han Li's storyline is a "literary path" that he must slowly cultivate, then Li Feiyu is the most valuable "knife" in the mortal stage.

This knife is fast and ruthless.

But it is precisely because it is so fast that it is easier to fold first.

Sure enough, a moment later, as Li Feiyu delivered his final blow, his body suddenly swayed, the long sword in his hand struck the muddy ground with a clang, his other hand pressed hard against his waist and abdomen, his knuckles turned white, and a layer of cold sweat instantly seeped from his forehead.

It wasn't the usual exhaustion from overwork, but rather as if something inside the body suddenly retaliated, draining the entire body of its energy for a moment.

Li Feiyu held on tightly, his lips pressed together, not even letting out a muffled groan. But Bai Xuanxin was not far away and could see that his breathing suddenly became disordered, and his face turned three degrees pale in an instant.

Bai Xuanxin did not immediately step forward, but stood in place for another two breaths.

It's clear that Li Feiyu has been taking that potent drug for quite some time now. It's not surprising that it's acting up now. But the more this is the case, the less one should approach him rashly. He's aloof and extremely proud; anyone who tries to get close at this time will likely end up worse off.

After Li Feiyu had barely recovered from that shock and drew his sword again, Bai Xuanxin slowly walked over, holding an umbrella.

Raindrops dripped from the edge of the umbrella, creating a thin curtain of water between the two.

Hearing footsteps, Li Feiyu looked up at him, her eyes still cold.

"What's up?"

His voice was cold and direct, without a single polite word.

Bai Xuanxin, however, didn't seem to care. She simply looked down at his hand holding the knife before speaking calmly:

"A sharp knife is a good thing. But if it's so sharp that even your own bones can't withstand it, it may not be a blessing."

Li Feiyu's expression changed slightly, and the coldness in his eyes deepened even more.

"Bai Xuanxin," he spoke slowly, his voice already carrying a hint of coldness, "you've been making quite a name for yourself in the outer sect lately, but if you want to test your skills on me, you've picked the wrong person."

These words were not polite; they even carried a hint of murderous intent.

Bai Xuanxin merely glanced at him, her expression calm.

"If I wanted to test my skills on you, I wouldn't have waited until you were this weak before speaking." He said, his gaze lightly falling on the spot where Li Feiyu had pressed his lower abdomen. "This injury of yours isn't entirely from training. The faster you practice with your sword, the more severe the backlash will be. Today it's in your lower abdomen, tomorrow it will most likely be in your heart. And later, I'm afraid even the blood you cough up will turn black."

Li Feiyu tightened his grip on the knife.

He stared at Bai Xuanxin, his gaze sharp as a knife.

How do you know?

Bai Xuanxin did not continue speaking, but simply tilted the oil-paper umbrella slightly to avoid the wind, her tone remaining calm.

"It's not difficult to treat injuries. What's difficult is that some people know they are shortening their lives, yet they still can't bear to put the knife down."

Upon hearing this, Li Feiyu's expression finally changed.

The sound of rain grew louder.

For a moment, both of them fell silent.

A moment later, Li Feiyu gave a cold laugh, but his eyes were even colder than before.

"So what if they see through me?" he said. "In the Seven Mysteries Sect, mediocrity is a sin. If the blade isn't sharp, the man deserves to die. If I don't act this way, am I supposed to just wait to be trampled into the mud?"

Upon hearing this, Bai Xuanxin did not refute it, but simply said:

"I don't care what others do. If you really want to risk your life on the knife, that's your business."

After saying that, he turned to leave.

Li Feiyu suddenly spoke:

"etc."

Bai Xuanxin paused and turned around.

Li Feiyu stared at him, her eyes full of scrutiny and wariness, as if trying to discern something else from his face.

"Since you can see that," his voice lowered but remained cold, "then how much do you actually know?"

Bai Xuanxin remained unmoved and simply said:

"What I should see, I will naturally see. What I shouldn't say, I won't say."

Li Feiyu remained silent for a moment, then finally loosened his grip on the knife slightly.

Bai Xuanxin didn't continue, as if his previous remarks had been merely casual remarks. He simply lifted the umbrella over his shoulder, leaving behind a nonchalant remark:

"If you really don't want to die too soon, from now on, when you practice your sword at night, hold back three-tenths of your strength. As for the rest, we'll talk about it when you've figured it out yourself."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Li Feiyu stood still, neither stopping him nor making another sound, only watching the gray-clad figure gradually walk away in the rain, his brows furrowing little by little.

This Bai Xuanxin has indeed gained some fame in the outer sect recently.

He could diagnose injuries, prescribe medicine, and his footwork and grappling techniques were unpredictable. But all of that was secondary. What truly alarmed Li Feiyu was that Bai Xuanxin, with just a few words, had already revealed most of the hidden dangers he had been trying to conceal these past few days.

Bai Xuanxin's expression only turned slightly somber after he left the martial arts arena.

Mo Juren has returned to the mountains, and the situation in Shenshou Valley will become increasingly tense.

Han Li's line has already left its first mark through pharmacology;

Li Feiyu's knife has now shown cracks on its blade.

One side is skilled in literature, the other in martial arts; both sides have already begun.

Whether the game can truly be completed depends on how well I can play the Seven Mysteries Sect game in these three months.

Thinking of this, Bai Xuanxin straightened her sleeves, turned around, and left the training ground.

Mountain rain streamed down the stone steps, and a thin mist and twilight pressed in together, making the direction of Shenshou Valley in the distance appear even more somber in the rain.

Bai Xuanxin's expression remained unchanged, but his steps were more steady than when he arrived.

The real game was only just beginning to unfold.