That night, lanterns glowed warmly along every willow-lined boulevard of Red-Sand Oasis City.
While the forty-eight thousand citizens celebrated in the streets with free mugs of sweet plum soup and roasted lamb skewers, Pei Xuan sat at the head of the long oak table inside the main hall of the Lord’s Keep.
Gathered around the table were his core inner circle: one-armed Old Wei, cleaver-toting Hong Ling, fat chef Old Guo, burly General Tie Zhan, barbarian Chief Hulun, alchemist Boom-Pot Sun, accountant Abacus Su, and the white-robed sword genius Ye Guhan.
In the center of the table bubbled a massive copper cauldron of freshly cooked Twelve-Hour Dragon-Marrow Scorpion-Beef Hot-Pot—courtesy of Old Guo’s backup pot—while through the open kitchen doorway at the back of the hall came the rhythmic chop-chop-chop and loud sniffling sobs of Debtor #216, Envoy Lin Cang.
Wearing his bright yellow Debtor Vest over a coarse gray linen work-shirt, the former Outer Deacon of the Crimson Cloud Immortal Sect was sitting on a low wooden stool surrounded by a ten-foot mountain of pungent red desert onions. Because his dantian was locked by the Spirit-Sealing Collar, the onion fumes stung his eyes without mercy, making tears pour down his bruised cheeks like twin waterfalls as he peeled onion after onion into a wooden tub.
“Serve the first bowl of broth and the biggest piece of ox tendon to Brother Ye!” Pei Xuan laughed, raising his porcelain cup of Golden-Blood Wheat Wine. “If Brother Ye hadn’t stood up for Old Guo’s noodle shop today and shaved Envoy Lin’s beard, we wouldn’t have hit the jackpot!”
Ye Guhan’s ears turned slightly pink as Old Guo heaped his bowl high with tender braised beef shank and glistening tendon.
For the first time since arriving in Dry-Well Town, Ye Guhan didn’t pull out copper coins to count the price of each slice of meat. Instead, he raised his teacup with both hands toward Pei Xuan, Old Guo, and Hong Ling.
“Before today, I thought the Sword Dao meant cutting off all mortal ties and walking alone,” Ye Guhan said softly, his Loyalty bar glowing a warm, steady `75 / 100` above his head. “Today, when that fireball hit Old Guo’s roof, I realized a sword that cannot even protect the pot of soup in front of it is just a piece of dead iron. From today on, my sword belongs to Red-Sand Oasis City.”
“Well said! Drink!” General Tie Zhan roared, clinking his wine bowl against Ye Guhan’s teacup before slurping down five meatballs in one breath.
After everyone had eaten their fill and the hot-pot plates were cleared away, Pei Xuan reached into his inner robe pocket and placed two items onto the polished oak table:
The glowing crimson jade slip and the thick, gold-lettered silk booklet of the `[Crimson Cloud Qi-Gathering Manual (Rank 4 Complete)]`!
Instantly, everyone around the table straightened up and held their breath.
Even in the Martial Grandmaster realm, Rank 3 fighters like General Tie Zhan, Old Wei, and Chief Hulun could only cultivate Internal Blood-Qi derived from food and muscle. Once a mortal martial artist reached Rank 3 Peak and tempered every drop of bone marrow, the road ahead was a dead end—after a hundred years, their blood would dry up and they would die of old age like any other mortal.
Only by stepping into Rank 4 Qi Gathering—opening the lower dantian to draw in the endless Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Qi of the world—could a person cast spells, fly through the clouds, and embark on the path of true Immortal Cultivation!
Pei Xuan opened the silk booklet to the first page, while his RTS System automatically scanned every word and meridian diagram inside:
Pei Xuan frowned as he read the red warning lines on his system screen.
Beside him, Ye Guhan looked at the open manual and let out a quiet, bitter sigh.
“Lord Pei, that is the cruelest law under the heavens,” Ye Guhan said, pointing to the first line of the silk booklet, which read: ‘Without a Spirit Root bestowed by Heaven, ten thousand years of bitter sweat are in vain.’
“In our world, only one out of every thousand babies is born with a Spirit Root,” Ye Guhan explained to Old Wei and General Tie Zhan, whose faces had fallen. “That is why the Four Great Immortal Sects treat tens of millions of mortal farmers and soldiers like cattle. Even if a mortal martial artist trains hard enough to reach Rank 3 Peak Grandmaster like General Tie and Uncle Wei, without a natural Spirit Root, they cannot sense a single strand of Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Qi to open their dantian.”
General Tie Zhan rubbed his thick neck and sighed heavily. “Back when I served in the border army, a sect deacon tested my bones once. He laughed in my face and said my meridians were as thick and plugged up as iron water-pipes—fit only for swinging a heavy halberd in the mud until I died.”
Old Wei touched his mechanical left arm, and Hong Ling gripped her two kitchen cleavers tightly. “Young Master, what about you? When Lady Wang poisoned your mother’s soup before you were born, the imperial doctors said your Spirit Root and dantian were damaged...”
“Wait for Heaven to bestow a Spirit Root?”
Pei Xuan closed the crimson silk booklet with a loud SNAP and smiled around the table.
“If Dry-Well Village waited for Heaven’s charity, all one hundred and three of us would have died of thirst around a salty mud hole on Day One!” Pei Xuan stood up, his eyes blazing with bright golden light. “Heaven didn’t give us sweet water, so we made our own Spirit Well! Heaven didn’t give us fertile soil, so we planted Meat-Potatoes in the sand! And if Heaven didn’t give my forty-eight thousand hardworking citizens a natural Spirit Root—then tonight, I will forge a Man-Made Martial Spirit Root for every single person in this city!”
“A... a man-made Spirit Root?!”
Ye Guhan nearly knocked over his teacup, and in the back kitchen, Envoy Lin dropped a half-peeled onion onto his foot in shock.
Is this mortal lord crazy?! Envoy Lin thought wildly from the kitchen doorway. EvenRank 6 Golden Core Ancestors in our Crimson Cloud Sect cannot create a Spirit Root out of nothing! How could a mortal martial artist rewrite the laws of Immortal cultivation?!
Pei Xuan didn’t bother explaining to Envoy Lin.
He walked over to the indoor stone well-head in the side courtyard of the Keep, where a thick copper pipe connected directly to the deep cavern below. Pei Xuan leaned over the stone rim and knocked three times.
“Old Dragon Ao Ming! Are you awake down there?”
BUBBLE—SPLASH!
A huge silver-scaled dragon head the size of a house rose silently out of the glowing spring water, filling the side courtyard with warm, fragrant mist. Ao Ming licked his whiskers, which were still red with chili oil from the two extra snow-sheep he had eaten an hour ago, and blinked his giant golden eyes at Pei Xuan.
“Burp... Little Kid Pei, those two cumin snow-sheep hit the spot! And your gravity dome made using my belly-scale was pretty fun to watch! Why are you knocking on my ceiling at midnight? Did Old Guo bake midnight lamb pies?”
“Better than lamb pies,” Pei Xuan grinned, leaning against the well rim. “Ao Ming, you’re a Rank 7 Ancient Flood Dragon. Your dragon body doesn’t use a weak human Spirit Root—you pump Spirit Qi directly through your dragon blood and scales, right?”
“Of course!” Ao Ming snorted proudly, blowing two rings of warm white steam out of his nostrils. “Human Spirit Roots are fragile little grass-stems! We True Dragons use our heart-furnace and blood-meridians to swallow Heaven-and-Earth Qi like whale-sharks swallowing seawater! Why do you ask?”
“Lend me one single drop of your Ancient Dragon Heart-Blood,” Pei Xuan said seriously. “In exchange, tomorrow I’ll have Old Guo deliver five whole roasted snow-sheep, a fifty-gallon barrel of Rank 3 Golden-Blood Wheat Wine, AND as soon as my city reaches Rank 4 and Rank 5, I swear I’ll pull that black iron Spirit-Draining Nail right out of your tail!”
Ao Ming’s giant golden eyes widened.
For three thousand years, that cursed black iron spike had pinned him in the dark beneath the desert. Yet every time Pei Xuan’s city upgraded and grew stronger, Ao Ming could clearly feel the suffocating pressure of the nail loosening bit by bit!
“One drop of heart-blood for five roasted sheep, a barrel of spirit wine, and pulling out this nail?” Ao Ming didn’t hesitate for a single second. He thumped his chest with one silver claw—THUD!—and coughed up a single, cherry-sized drop of blazing, golden-crimson liquid that floated in the air like a tiny roaring sun!
“Take it, Little Kid Pei! Don’t forget the extra garlic in tomorrow’s sheep!”
With a happy splash of his tail, the giant dragon sank back down to his warm underground bed.
Holding the floating drop of `[Ao Ming's Ancient Heart-Blood]` in one hand, Pei Xuan walked back into the main hall and pulled out his own master copy of the `[Rank 3 Peak Dragon-Blood Anvil Manual]`.
In front of his eyes, Pei Xuan summoned the Rank 4 Fusion Cube!
His current Loyalty Point balance stood at 119,900 LP (after spending 100 LP to wash the storage bag’s soul-mark).
Without hesitation, Pei Xuan placed all three items into the glowing golden slots of the Fusion Cube:
* Slot 1: [Crimson Cloud Qi-Gathering Manual (Rank 4 Immortal Art)]
* Slot 2: [Dragon-Blood Anvil Manual (Rank 3 Peak Martial Art)]
* Slot 3: [A Drop of Ao Ming's Ancient True-Dragon Heart-Blood]
HUMMMMMMMMMM!
The entire Fusion Cube shook violently as crimson Immortal runes, black-iron Martial characters, and golden dragon-blood lightning collided inside the box!
Pei Xuan’s heart pounded with excitement as he read every single line of the Cube Override.
Work-is-Cultivation! Man-Made Furnace Spirit Root! Unbreakable Molten-Iron Furnace Dantian!
That meant his forty-eight thousand farmers, bricklayers, salt miners, and soldiers wouldn’t have to stop working and hide in mountain caves to become Immortals—the harder they built roads, farmed fields, and trained in Red-Sand Oasis City, the faster they would soar into Rank 4 Qi Gathering and beyond!
“Confirm Fusion!” Pei Xuan commanded silently.
KRA-BOOOOOOOOM!
One hundred thousand Loyalty Points ignited inside the Cube!
To everyone sitting around the oak table in the hall, it looked as if the crimson silk manual, the black martial book, and the drop of glowing dragon blood in Pei Xuan’s hands suddenly burst into a blinding pillar of golden-red dragon fire that shot straight up against the vaulted ceiling of the Keep!
Inside the golden-red light, the phantom of a giant black-iron furnace coiled with a roaring golden dragon appeared in midair, stamping thousands of glowing runes onto a brand-new, indestructible jade-and-gold tome!
When the light faded three seconds later, a warm, life-giving wave of pure spiritual energy swept across the hall, making even the wooden pillars smell like fresh pine sap.
Resting in Pei Xuan’s hands was a heavy, golden-bronze book titled in bold, fiery characters:
`[FURNACE-BLOOD IMMORTAL SCRIPTURE — PART 1: SPIRIT-SEED PRIMER & MARROW-FURNACE]`
“Young Master... what happened to the Crimson Cloud manual?!” Old Wei gasped, staring at the glowing golden-bronze scripture in Pei Xuan’s hands. “Just looking at the cover makes the blood in my right arm and my mechanical left arm hum like a stove!”
“The old Crimson Cloud manual was full of holes and only worked for pampered sect brats,” Pei Xuan said with a bright grin, laying the golden-bronze scripture open in the center of the table so everyone could see the glowing meridian diagrams. “I made a few minor municipal edits. Everyone—Uncle Wei, General Tie, Chief Hulun, Hong Ling, Old Guo, and Brother Ye—follow the first diagram right now. Clench your fists, tense your spine, and breathe in through your nose as if your heart is a blacksmith’s bellows!”
In the back kitchen, Envoy Lin craned his neck through the doorway and snorted under his breath. Have a bunch of Spirit-Rootless mortal roughnecks breathe together at the dinner table to sense Immortal Qi? Hahaha! It took me three months of sitting on an incense cushion with a Mid-Grade Fire Root just to feel my first hair-thin strand of Spirit Qi! If that one-armed old soldier or that fat cook can feel Spirit Qi tonight, I’ll eat this whole tub of raw onions with the skins on!
Inside the hall, Old Wei, General Tie Zhan, Chief Hulun, Hong Ling, and Old Guo didn’t hesitate—their 100/100 Die-Hard Loyalty meant that if Pei Xuan told them to breathe like a blacksmith’s bellows, they breathed with every ounce of their strength!
HUFF—ROOOOOOAR!
All five of them tensed their Dragon-Blood Anvil muscles and drew in one deep breath according to the first page of the [Furnace-Blood Immortal Scripture]!
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Five deep, metallic furnace chimes echoed right out of their chests and lower bellies!
Inside General Tie Zhan’s body, his boiling Rank 3 Peak martial blood rushed through his 108 meridians in the new dragon-furnace pattern, twisting together at the base of his spine to form a glowing, red-hot Man-Made Martial Spirit Root!
Instantly, the invisible Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Qi floating in the night air of the Keep—which General Tie Zhan had never been able to feel in forty years of life—was yanked through the pores of his skin like iron filings pulled by a giant magnet!
WHOOSH!
A visible swirl of fiery red-gold Spirit Qi poured straight into General Tie Zhan’s meridians, condensing a glowing Man-Made Spirit Root Seed right outside the gate of his mortal dantian and pushing him into Half-Step Rank 4 (Spirit-Seed Grandmaster)!
At the exact same second, Old Wei’s chest glowed with bronze-red light, Chief Hulun’s hair floated upward in a swirl of warm spiritual wind, and beside them, Old Guo and Hong Ling gasped as warm streams of spiritual vitality washed through their meridians!
Even more miraculously, when Ye Guhan tried one breath of the Furnace-Blood cycle, the golden-red blood-furnace energy rushed straight to the jagged crack in his Rank 5 Foundation dantian—stabilizing the leaking edges of the crack with warm blood-gold energy like a master blacksmith soldering a cracked sword!
“I... I can feel Heaven-and-Earth Spirit Qi!” General Tie Zhan opened his eyes as wide as copper bells, looking down at the glowing red-gold Spirit-Seed spark dancing on the tip of his index finger!
The tough border general—who hadn’t cried when his legs were broken in a prison cart—felt his voice choke up.
“I have no natural Spirit Root... the sect deacon said I was mud... yet I just forged a Man-Made Spirit Root Seed and reached Half-Step Rank 4 in one single breath! Once Your Lordship unlocks the second half of Envoy Lin’s spell manual to smash open our dantian gates, every single one of us can become a true Rank 4 Immortal!”
In the kitchen doorway, Envoy Lin’s jaw dropped so hard it hit the wooden tub of onions.
He stared at General Tie Zhan’s finger, then at Old Wei, then at Chief Hulun—all of these Spirit-Rootless martial roughnecks were already gathering genuine Immortal Spirit Qi around their dantian gates, while their physical bodies grew ten times denser and stronger than before!
Envoy Lin looked down at the raw onion in his hand, trembled from head to toe, and whispered in broken despair:
“Monster... this whole city is run by a monster...”