Chapter 102 — Beyond Comprehension [Supplement]

Zuo Yan came to slowly, his face pressed against the ground, a good deal of mud clinging to his mouth. It was his own little courtyard—only then did he feel slightly reassured.

But when he examined the inside of his own body, his heart finally relaxed completely. The situation was better than he had thought: the injuries were severe enough, the meridians especially, but far better than he had imagined. What he had feared most was damage to his vital essence—a fatal wound that even a Golden Core cultivator could not mend.

Thank goodness, thank goodness...

He struggled up from the mud into a sitting position. The ache throughout his body was something he had long grown used to; thinking back now, it seemed he often landed himself in such a sorry state. Do a thing often enough and one grows accustomed to it—even to enduring pain.

But when he saw the grey-beaked goose sprawled nearby like a heap of wet mud, he was badly startled and hastily scrambled over on shaking limbs. That he had made it back at all was surely this hen bird's doing; without her, he would have been finished! Reaching the grey-beaked goose's side, he examined her carefully, and only then did his heart settle. The hen had simply exhausted herself past her limit. A faint tenderness welled up and lingered in Zuo Huanzhong.

He ran back to the stone chamber, brought out the rock-milk he treasured beyond anything, and dripped three drops in succession into the grey-beaked goose.

"Silly bird, silly bird—your brother's a real sport, eh!" Zuo Yan muttered to himself.

For a cultivator, rock-milk taken alone was not especially effective, but for a spirit-beast it was a treasure of heaven and earth. Apart from Zuo Yan, no one would feed three drops of rock-milk to a second-grade grey-beaked goose. In terms of crystal stones, three drops of rock-milk were worth far more than a second-grade grey-beaked goose. Yet this man and this bird shared a bond forged in battle deep as any; and though the hen had once committed the despicable act of mocking him, your brother is magnanimous and would never stoop to quarrel with a silly bird like you—so Zuo Yan reasoned.

The rock-milk's effects were indeed striking.

In only a moment the grey-beaked goose was back on its feet. However...

When Zuo Yan saw the grey-beaked goose holding its wings folded behind its back like a human, chest thrust out, head high, strutting about with great aplomb, he was struck dumb. But its human-like dignity did not last long; soon it grew restless and began imitating a frog, hopping all about the courtyard, up and down, until Zuo Yan stared open-mouthed. Yet after only a little longer, even frog-hopping could not satisfy it; those wings kept contorting into the most bizarre poses, so that it looked like a convulsing freak-bird performing a dance.

It was truly painful to watch—truly devoid of any sense of beauty...

Zuo Yan could not help making such a cruel assessment.

After a moment's thought, he understood. He had given the grey-beaked goose too much rock-milk. The bird's aptitude was thoroughly ordinary; it simply could not withstand so much. Too much medicinal power churned within it, unable to dissolve, and that was what drove it to such seemingly mad behavior.

Suddenly Zuo Yan turned pale with fright—the silly bird was charging straight for the spirit-field!

"Stop right there!" Zuo Yan could hold back no longer and cursed furiously. "If you dare ruin my field, I'll break your legs!"

Startled by Zuo Yan, the grey-beaked goose slammed to a frantic halt and went tumbling headfirst into the mud, landing upside down like a scallion. It was still a little afraid of Zuo Yan. By the time it had wobbled its head free of the dirt, Zuo Yan saw matters taking a bad turn and hastily shouted, "Silly thing—don't you know to fly up into the sky?"

The grey-beaked goose smacked its head with a wing, its face lighting up with sudden enlightenment; then, shaking its head like a drunkard, it flapped its wings and lurched unsteadily straight up into the clouds.

Zuo Yan patted his chest, still shaken. These days, even birds had such ferocious moments!

Having finally dealt with that silly bird, Zuo Yan dragged his half-crippled body into the stone chamber. The moment he crawled inside, he sat cross-legged and entered meditation.

This meditation lasted far longer than usual—a full ten *shichen* before he roused himself from it. Though his injuries were not grave, the meridians within his body had taken no small hurt; the chaotic, tangled spiritual power had done considerable damage to them. He had truly been mad back then—risking his life for crystal stones? Yet thinking it over carefully, he felt that was not it either. Why had he fought so desperately then? He could not put it into words.

But that final strike—there was so much in it worth savoring.

Chang Heng's strength was not on the same level as his at all; that the man could drive him to the brink with a single move made it plain enough. Thinking back now, Zuo Yan still felt a lingering dread. It was not that he had never considered Chang Heng's ferocity, but he had never expected to struggle so hard just to withstand one move. That he had come away with only such minor wounds was truly a miracle.

He was not discouraged. In terms of cultivation, the gap between them was too great. Chang Heng stood at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage, a man about to assault the Condensed Meridian realm, while Zuo Yan was merely at the fourth layer of Foundation Establishment.

But now he had already reached the fifth layer—just now, during that ten-*shichen* meditation, he had inadvertently broken through to the fifth layer. Nor was that the only harvest from this battle, and so Zuo Yan, waking from meditation, did not rise at once but sat there, carefully reliving the whole fight.

The battle had been brief—a single move—yet the changes within it were far from monotonous; on the contrary, there were many variations Zuo Yan had never even conceived of before. He had resorted even to the self-harming method of directly drawing spiritual energy into his body, and only just barely, by the narrowest margin, withstood the opponent's one move. There was so much in Chang Heng worth learning from: the precise use of spiritual power, attacks on the divine consciousness, the deployment of presence and pressure...

This sitting lasted another five *shichen*.

Only when he truly came back to himself did he realize he was ravenously hungry. He ran to the dwelling, found some spirit-grain, and—heedless of his own poor skill—cooked himself a meal of spirit-grain rice. His wretched cooking left the rice tasting truly awful. Yet Zuo Yan still wolfed it all down clean, and the spiritual power contained in the grain did him a great deal of good.

Once he had eaten his fill, he began to examine his spoils.

When he laid the spoils out in a row, he was instantly seized with excitement and elation.

The Luo Moon Dark Turtle Shell, a talisman-soldier, a third-grade belt, and a pair of third-grade wrist guards.

He had already grown quite familiar with the marvels of the Luo Moon Dark Turtle Shell, and the talisman-soldier could still be used once more. Such a lifesaving treasure for critical moments—Zuo Yan was naturally not foolish enough to test it recklessly. He carefully memorized the incantation, then stowed the talisman-soldier away.

The important items were the belt and the wrist guards. The belt—Zuo Yan had to admit he had misjudged it. The golden-woven belt, glittering with gold, bore only a single formation: Valor. In Zuo Yan's eyes this was a formation of absolutely no use whatsoever. Its function was to make the wearer's bearing more distinguished, to make him look more valiant and extraordinary.