The Four-Spirit Body Refining Art: Azure Dragon in the east, bound to wood.
Jiang Chen savored the vitality, felt his vital blood growing. Whether it was an illusion or not, the Dao essence newly born in his Celestial Palace seemed livelier too, which made arranging the array points a little easier.
To nourish the flesh with wood-element vital energy before even opening the Gate of Heaven and Earth — this was one of the soldier's arts' advantages.
The Four-Spirit Body Refining Art used metal vital energy to forge the bones, fire to temper the flesh, water to nurture the blood and marrow, and wood to grow the vital blood. Complete, and no small path.
Jiang Chen had no thought of switching to the soldier's path, nor of forcing his meridian open with vital blood. But stronger vital blood fed back into his Dao essence and hastened the condensing of his Dao vortex.
Before, he could manage only two or three meridian-forcing sessions a day; the rest went to sword drills and Dao texts. Now the Violet Dawn Sword Art had also reached a plateau — at least for him, spending effort on body refining cost nothing.
The Starfield Array foundation looked splendid, but it was terribly slow.
Jiang Chen was not anxious. When he was small, his father told him: a ninety-nine-year-old ginseng sold for a hundred taels of silver, but if you could wait one more year, a century-old ginseng was priced in gold.
Waiting was not wasted. Some futures were worth the wait.
So even when the Academy buzzed with talk — Fang Lin was about to condense a second Dao vortex, someone or other had opened his meridian and would soon overtake him — Jiang Chen kept to his pace, unhurried. Bell at dawn, drum at dusk, day and night without pause.
* * *
October was also called Dew Moon; autumn giving way to winter, dew forming thick, hence the name.
For Maple City, the biggest event of this October was the Three-City Trial.
As the name suggested, the Trial was a joint contest among the three neighboring city academies, a chance to spar and hone each other — in truth, a warm-up for the county academy examinations every November. City academies across Zhuang ran similar events, each under a different name.
In Daishan County, for instance, the academies of Qinglan City and Baidu City hosted the "North Wind Trials," taken from a verse about October's north wind — graceful and interesting, so much so that it became a famous local event that drew sightseers every year. In practice, it was just five cities' academies competing together.
The Three-City Trial, by contrast, was plain and honest. It had to be: the three cities were Riverview, Maple, and Three Mountain.
Maple City went without saying — plain was its style. The maple groves outside the walls burned red in autumn, a sight worth seeing, but the only poem of any fame about the place had been written by a passing cultivator from Qinglan City.
Riverview City was mercantile to the bone and cared nothing for elegance. Three Mountain City was simpler still — its people were still derisively called mountain barbarians.
Those were the three cities' natures. But over the years the Trial had grown beyond a contest among students; in some measure it now reflected the strength of each city and influenced how the court of Zhuang allocated resources. The stakes had turned sharp.
This year the host was Maple City, and everyone from the city lord down to the common folk was watching. The taverns hung lanterns and streamers, the authorities tightened patrols, and for a while pickpockets vanished entirely.
Inside the Maple City Academy, there was a selection to be made.
* * *
"That's the situation." Wei Lin and Dean Dong appeared together, a rarity. Neither sat; both stood on the platform.
"By custom, each city academy sends two students from the first-year, third-year, and fifth-year cohorts." Wei Lin was dark-skinned, with stern eyes, and genuinely frightening when he did not smile. "Let me be blunt: you lose, you pay. If you lose, don't blame me, Wei, for making your life hard."
First-year meant roughly a year of study — in practice, chosen mostly from last year's intake, so they had studied over a year already. Same for third-year and fifth-year. There were no students beyond five years because anyone who had not entered a county academy by then had basically given up on cultivation and gone off to enjoy a comfortable life in the mundane world.
The city lord put it so bluntly that the students below shifted uneasily. Some who had planned to shine at the Trial began to waver on the spot.
"A first-year win earns ten Merit. Third-year, twenty. Fifth-year, fifty." Dean Dong added the sweetener, but his expression stayed cold.
One black face, one cold face — they complemented each other well. Both of Maple City's greatest figures had come out to show how much this Trial mattered.
It was not only about resource allocation. It was the measure of their governance, their face.
Especially after an entire town — Little Grove — had been reduced to wasteland, Maple City was desperate to raise its voice.
"I'll read the names now. Anyone who thinks he can't cut it, speak up now." Since the Trial mattered so much, Dean Dong skipped voluntary sign-ups and named people directly. "Zhang Yuan leads this Trial..."
Below, Zhang Yuan pressed his forehead in resignation. "So much pressure on me."
"Pressure?" Dean Dong's gaze dropped from the platform. At the fifth rank, he could locate the source of a fart, let alone a mutter.
"But I'm full of confidence!" Zhang Yuan said at once.
Dean Dong let him off and went on reading names.
"Senior Zhang lives up to his name — even the Dean admits you're the Academy's number one!" Huang Azhan flattered in a loud whisper.
Zhang Yuan had arrived late today and, rather than stand up front, had planted himself with Jiang Chen's group. Perhaps hoping the Dean would overlook him — but he was caught out immediately.
"If Zhu Weiwo and Wei Feng could compete, would I be slaving away?" Zhang Yuan shot Huang Azhan a look. He had no wish to be found with a blade at his door by Wei Feng tomorrow.
Then he covered his nose with a handkerchief. "When did you last bathe?"
"A true man doesn't waste time bathing!" Huang Azhan declared, then sniffed himself. "I don't smell anything..."
Zhang Yuan edged two steps away in disgust.
Wei Feng was with the Ministry of War and could not take part in an academy contest. But why wasn't Zhu Weiwo here? Shouldn't a figure like him be front and center?
Jiang Chen asked what everyone was thinking: "Why can't Senior Zhu compete?"
"Oh, he's off hunting the Heart-Devouring Demon, I think." Zhang Yuan said casually.
"!!!"
"!!!"
Jiang Chen, Ling Chuan, and Huang Azhan stared in unison.
Hunting?
The Nine Demons were infamous across the land — plague to every state, wicked beyond counting. Even Xiong Wen, who had earned his place through sheer cruelty and was the weakest of the Nine, was a sixth-rank cultivator who had opened the Gate of Heaven and Earth, worthy of the title Soaring-Dragon cultivator!
Ninth-rank cultivators arranged array points with Dao essence and built a Dao vortex to complete their foundation. When the true spirit of the Dao meridian leapt within the vortex, that was the Roaming Meridian realm.
Eighth-rank cultivators built three Dao vortices and formed a minor cycle within the Celestial Palace — the Cycle realm.
Seventh-rank cultivators completed the three minor cycles of heaven, earth, and man, joined them into a great cycle, then pierced the flesh and cleansed the Celestial Palace, waking the great dragon of the Dao meridian to glimpse the Gate of Heaven and Earth — the Heaven-Piercing realm.
The sealed Gate of Heaven and Earth was called the first barrier of cultivation. Only by breaking it open could one see the heart clearly and let the meridian's dragon soar.
Before the sixth rank, every academy student wore only hemp robes, as a sign of bearing hardship and cleaving through thorns.
From the sixth rank up, the strong of the middle three ranks could wear the Soaring-Dragon Robe. The three realms of Soaring Dragon, Inner Palace, and Outer Tower differed only in small details.
It was a mark of status, the very shape of honor.
Anyone worthy of the Soaring-Dragon Robe was a true strong one.
And Xiong Wen, a demon of such savage fame, was a master among Soaring-Dragon cultivators.
And now Zhu Weiwo — a mere student of a city academy — was hunting him?