After the Great Dao died

Chapter 79 Going Up to the Third Floor

A battle of wits —

Since he began cultivating, he has rarely seen a true cultivator make a move.

Chen Ling turned over and left the cave.

He lightly touched the cliff face with his toes, his body rising up, his robes billowing in the mountain wind.

Cuojin Mountain is extremely high and becomes steeper as you go up. The exposed rock walls are covered with a thin layer of frost, making them slippery, but he walks on them as if they were flat ground and reaches the summit in no time.

At the summit stands an old pine tree, its age unknown. Its trunk is gnarled and twisted like iron, yet its needles are lush and green, showing no signs of withering or turning yellow even in the twelfth lunar month.

Chen Lingxi landed behind the old pine tree, using its shade to observe the Qi and look down.

Then, he sensed it.

They are separated by an extremely far distance.

Mount Cuojin is at least ten miles away from the place where the spiritual eruption occurred. In between are vast forests, the winding Yuan River, and several low hills. If you look at it with your eyes, you can only see a small patch of sea of ​​clouds churning on the horizon. Other than that, you can't see anything.

But Chen Ling washed it to observe the response!

Beneath the distant sea of ​​clouds, bursts of spiritual energy are erupting.

The eruptions were not frequent, but they were extremely violent.

With each eruption, invisible spiritual ripples spread outwards from the epicenter in all directions, wave after wave, overlapping and layering.

Those streams of spiritual energy were extremely pure and powerful.

It is even more profound than the spiritual energy in his dantian!

He is now on the fourth floor, and the spiritual liquid in his dantian has just begun to condense. He is not weak, but compared with those few streams of spiritual energy, his spiritual energy is like a bowl of muddy water meeting a clear mountain spring. Its purity and richness are far inferior.

Chen Lingxi's pupils constricted slightly.

Just then, a gap suddenly appeared in that small patch of clouds on the horizon.

A small boat flew out of the opening.

Chen Lingxi saw nothing in front of her, looking at the limit of her eyesight.

I can finally see it clearly.

The boat was extremely small, only about ten feet long, and its entire body was pure white. It was unknown what material it was made of. The bottom of the boat was still about a foot away from the cloud surface, but it did not fall. It just hung in mid-air and floated leisurely.

A woman stood at the bow of the boat.

The woman had the face of a young girl, looking no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, but her demeanor was that of a noblewoman, exuding elegance and grace.

She was dressed in a magnificent gown, the fabric of which was unknown, yet it shimmered with layers of rosy light in the sunlight, as if the most dazzling sunset had been cut from the sky and draped over her body.

Her hair was styled in a high bun, adorned with a tassel hairpin. The hairpin's head was a pearl the size of a thumb, and the tassels, woven from extremely fine gold thread, hung down beside her temples, swaying gently as the small boat drifted by.

She stood on the small boat, her posture upright like a pine tree, yet she retained a woman's gentleness.

What shocked Chen Lingxi even more was the intense radiance emanating from her.

The light was not ordinary light, but a kind of spiritual light emanating from within her, almost tangible.

The light was extremely intense and bright, like a small sun confined within a three-foot radius around her, illuminating her face, robes, and...

The hairpins were all illuminated.

It also contains extremely rich spiritual energy fluctuations, which do not spread outwards but tightly surround her, forming an invisible spiritual energy vortex.

The vortex slowly rotated, stirring up the surrounding clouds and mist, as if an invisible hand was churning the sea of ​​clouds. The cloud vapor was shattered, crushed, and swallowed, turning into wisps of white vapor that were drawn into the vortex and disappeared.

Compared to this fluctuation, the spiritual energy in Chen Ling's Qi Sea was like a firefly compared to the bright moon, utterly incomparable.

He remained outwardly calm, but his heart was in turmoil.

This woman's cultivation level is probably far more complex than what he has seen.

The purity of that spirit, the solidity of that spiritual light, and the control over that spiritual vortex were all beyond the reach of cultivators on the third floor of the sect.

The woman in the small boat steered away. The boat drifted very steadily, like a willow leaf floating on still water, slowly and leisurely drifting into the distance.

Suddenly, she snapped her fingers.

The movement was extremely light and casual, like a noblewoman casually brushing away a small fallen petal from her dress.

But just as she snapped her fingers, a cold light flew out from her fingertips.

The cold light was initially only an inch or so long, as thin as a silver needle, but in an instant it grew longer in the wind, transforming into a long sword with a gleaming cold light.

The sword was entirely silver-white, with countless fine lines flowing across its blade, like layers of ice cracks.

The sword's edge was so sharp it made one's scalp tingle. Even from a distance of several thousand miles, Chen Lingxi could still feel the biting chill, as if an ice needle were piercing his brow, the coldness penetrating straight to his skull.

The longsword transformed into a silver thread, piercing into the sea of ​​clouds.

Deep within the sea of ​​clouds, a glimmer of light shattered.

The sound of breaking was extremely faint and subtle; Chen Lingxi couldn't hear it, but she could sense it.

At the instant the longsword pierced through, a burst of spiritual energy suddenly exploded in the sea of ​​clouds, like a firework blooming deep within the clouds, before quickly fading away.

Immediately afterwards, someone let out a muffled groan, which was also inaudible, but then the spirit completely dissipated.

It vanished so completely that it was as if it had never existed.

Several auras flowed from the sea of ​​clouds, some chasing after the long sword, some surrounding the woman, and some scattering in all directions, seemingly searching for something.

But the woman simply snapped her fingers again.

This time, no cold light flew out; instead, a wisp of spirit shot from her fingertip, disappearing into the sea of ​​clouds like a green snake.

The few auras in the sea of ​​clouds retreated like a school of fish startled, daring not to approach again.

The woman never turned around, not even once.

The small boat drifted leisurely, carrying her towards the distant horizon, gradually turning into a tiny dot before finally disappearing into the depths of the clouds.

All that remained was a sea of ​​clouds ravaged by the chaos, and a few lingering presences that remained in the distance, yet dared not approach any further.

Chen Lingxi stood on the old pine tree, motionless.

The mountain wind tousled the stray hairs on his forehead, but he was completely unaware.

"Go up to the third floor," he thought to himself.

"This woman's cultivation level must have reached the third floor."

With a flick of his finger, a long sword flew out, annihilating a spirit in a single strike.

A casual ray of green light shot out, forcing back several auras.

Such power and composure are like an adult toying with a few toddlers, every move he makes is effortless.

"But I don't know which level of Qi circulation it is," he muttered to himself.

"At least the seventh floor—or even the eighth floor."

Chen Lingxi took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

Who is this person?

"It is very likely that it is Consort Chun."

"Therefore, Lin Suri may have been among those who surrounded and killed him."

He had a vague suspicion in his mind, but he didn't think about it anymore and returned to the cave.

Chen Lingxi closed his eyes and focused his mind, continuing to comprehend the ethereal and profound Qi array.

Thus, he studied the formation while simultaneously breathing in and out his energy.

The reason he didn't let Chejue break was to prepare to wait for the Imperial Concubine to enter the city so he could personally see the legendary Imperial Concubine Chun.

Another half hour passed.

Chen Lingxi suddenly frowned, a very uncomfortable feeling rising in her heart.

He opened his eyes, silently stood up, walked to the cave entrance, pushed aside the old vines, and looked outside.

Outside the cave, the mist surged like waves, obscuring the mountains opposite the cliff face.

The scene outside the cave was exactly the same as it had been half an hour ago.

The mountain is still the same mountain, the fog is still the same fog, and the winter sun still hangs obliquely in the sky, its pale light shining through the fog and falling on the cliff face, giving off a cold and eerie color.

There was nothing unusual.

He frowned, turned around, and was about to walk back into the cave.

Just then, a sudden ripple appeared in the swirling mist outside the cave.

"Who?"

Chen Lingxi sensed danger.

His reaction was astonishingly fast; he moved almost at the very instant the fluctuation occurred.

He suddenly tapped his right foot on the cliff face, and his body shot out diagonally like an arrow released from a bow.

Meanwhile, water vapor was condensing in the swirling mist outside the cave.

The speed at which it condensed was unbelievably fast. The mist within a radius of several feet was almost simultaneously drained by an invisible force, transforming into a thin, transparent, yet chillingly sharp ice blade.

The ice blade was extremely thin and fine, as thin as a cicada's wing and as fine as a taut silver thread. It was crystal clear and gleamed with a cold, eerie light under the sunlight.

It hovered in mid-air for less than a snap of the fingers before silently slid towards Chen Lingxi's throat.

This attack was extremely cunning. The ice blade itself was so thin that it was almost invisible, and it was formed in the mist. Not even a trace of spiritual light was leaked out when it was used. If Chen Lingxi had not noticed that extremely subtle fluctuation in advance, he would probably have had his throat silently cut open by this ice blade.

"A monk!"

"Magic!"

Chen Lingxi's thoughts flashed rapidly, and he pushed his qi and blood to their limit, leaning backward!

The ice blade grazed his neck, missing him by less than three inches.

Where the ice blade passed, a very thin and faint white streak condensed in the air. The streak lingered in the air for a moment before disappearing, but the biting coldness emanating from the ice blade had already swept across the side of his neck.

He landed on a protruding rock several feet away, feeling a chill on the side of his neck, followed by a burning pain.

Then Chen Lingxi raised her head and looked into the depths of the fog.

The fog was still churning.

There is someone in the fog.

The man slowly emerged from the mist.

He was a young man.

He was about twenty years old, with an extremely handsome face, so handsome that he didn't look like a living person, but rather like a jade statue enshrined in a glass pavilion.

However, his face was excessively pale, his lips were dry, and there was a dark red bloodstain at the corner of his lips, indicating that he had just vomited blood and had only wiped it hastily with his sleeve, without having had time to clean it properly.

He wore a moon-white long robe, and walked in the mist without a trace of moisture, enveloped in a faint, ethereal light.

He wore a white jade belt around his waist, with a thumb-sized pearl as the buckle. The pearl shimmered with a faint light, like a star frozen in ice.

He walked with his hands behind his back, the hem of his robe fluttering slightly in the mist, like water plants in the water, drifting with the current, yet with their own direction.

Duan is a good person!

However, the character appears to be injured, and in more than one place.

He had a deep, bone-revealing sword wound on his left shoulder.

There was a charred burn mark on his right side.

The most shocking thing was the penetrating wound on his chest, which went straight from his left chest to his back, with smooth, mirror-like edges, pierced by an extremely sharp sword aura.

Chen Lingxi immediately understood.

"This person was one of the people who surrounded and killed that woman!"

"With injuries like that, I would be too weak to move, yet this person was still able to attack me!"

"What is his cultivation level?"

Chen Lingxi was secretly alarmed, but also speculated in her mind: "To be able to surround and kill that woman on the third floor, she must be at least a sixth-level cultivator!"

Go up to the sixth floor!

A figure on the same level as Lin Suri, Lu Baizhong, and Crown Prince Yingchi.

He brushed those thoughts from his mind, his gaze finally settling on the young man's face, and calmly asked, "Brother Dao, what brings you here?"

The young man didn't answer immediately. His gaze slowly moved down from Chen Lingxi's face, sweeping over his shoulders and hands.

The precious cleaver wrapped in coarse cloth at his waist moved back to his face.

"Fellow Daoist." His clear voice carried a slight weakness, as if he were barely managing to speak after being seriously injured, which made his sincerity even more apparent: "I am injured and have been practicing the Whale Swallowing Technique. Seeing you here, I would like to ask you for something to heal my wounds."

His words were delivered in a gentle and persuasive manner, perfectly matching his current state of being heavily injured, much like a noble young master in distress who had no choice but to humble himself and converse with a complete stranger from the mountains.

Chen Lingxi listened quietly, then asked, "What would you like to ask for, brother?"

P.S.: There will be an extra chapter for monthly votes later.