Destiny in Cinders

It was the transitional period between winter and spring at Keensight, during which the weather was the most fickle. The temperature swung wildly from hot to cold. One would easily get caught off guard by the rapid changes and fall sick.

Within one of the rooms in the compound, a stove was lit and cooking a pot of soup, giving off quite a bit of warmth. An Jing opened his eyes at the break of dawn and lifted the lid of the simmering pot, immediately smelling a strong hint of herbal ingredients, which was followed quickly by a meaty fragrance.

This was a twist on the recipe for ginseng dragon soup.[1] An Jing added some special herbs, mountain mushrooms and bamboo shoots into the mix and let them simmer slowly at a decent heat to the point that the ingredients turned to a silky mush.

He picked a mushroom out of the pot and gave it a taste test. The savory juices that the mushroom had soaked up in the pot gushed out in his mouth, tasting strongly of fresh, chicken essence.

"As expected of me. My culinary skills are coming back to me." He didn't care about the heat and picked the ingredients straight out of the pot and devoured them cleanly. He didn't even toss the bones away, merely grinding them up and swallowing them completely.

Once he was done with his meal, he left the building and picked up the two violet-gold maces, using them like short swords. Then, he got into his stance, facing the red sun that had just risen over the horizon, and began practicing.

The gentle rays of daybreak parted the fog and touched upon his face gently. After posing as Jing Xuan for so long, this had become An Jing's second face. The vigorous glow in the handsome youth's eyes inspired confidence.

He lifted the mace in his right hand to his left shoulder and kept the mace in his left hand in front of his abdomen to guard it. This was both an offensive and defensive stance, allowing him to strike with a swing or thrust while maintaining a decent guard.

However, he didn't unleash any strikes at all and merely held that position under the sun. He stood there so steadily that he looked like a sculpture. Even though An Jing's body positioning didn't shift the slightest bit, power seemed to course beneath his skin as his muscles pulsed with activity.

This was part of the Minor Yang Sword Art, Ocean Sunrise. His body was the ocean and his aura was the sun. The technique's circulation brought the sun out of the body, transcending it to form spirit qi.

An Jing felt heat spread throughout his body. When wisps of visible qi emanated from his limbs, he focused his expression and began performing sword movements. He started off slow, but gradually raised the pace. The maces coursed through the air and sounded like they were cutting through it despite not having edges at all, packing quite a bit of force.

Once enough power was built up, the sword movements switched to sudden flicks, thrusts, slashes, swings, loops or parries. The varied and distinct sword movements flowed together in a smooth chain that generated cutting sounds of different pitches that harmonized like notes of a beautiful aria. The air that was disturbed by the swings caused the dust on the ground to rise with An Jing at the very center. His qi essence came to life like the sun of a new dawn, pulsing with vitality.

After half an hour of practice, his breathing got rougher. By the time the sun rose to full prominence and wisps of white qi rose like vapor above his head, he suddenly pulled back and ceased his movements.

All of a sudden, many shadows layered atop each other. An Jing's body twitched as he thrust the mace in the direction of a battered old tree, circulating the yang qi that had built up from the minor yang stance. There was a bright flash the moment his thrust extended fully from his stance, yet it somehow felt gentle and all encompassing.

Even though the maces were artifact weapons that could easily crush metal with a casual swing, the invisible force that extended from the tip of the thrusted mace passed through the old tree without snapping, crushing or so much as shaking it. Instead, a new sprout emerged from the tree at a rate that could be seen by the naked eye.

"Not bad." An Jing got closer to study the sprout before he nodded with satisfaction. "I still haven't quite reached the Withered Rejuvenation, New Sprout from Dead Bark phase, but I've more or less reached a major milestone with the Minor Yang Sword Art."

Qi essence of the yang aspect could cause flowers to bloom during winter and reinvigorate life. While An Jing had borrowed a bit of power from the arrival of spring, the fact that he was able to do what he did showed the progress he had made with the Minor Yang Sword Art.

An Jing hadn't slacked off on martial practice even though he was busy trading between the two worlds. He got his priorities straight. He needed to make money to get resources for his cultivation, not the other way round. After obtaining enough resources to make progress, he made sure to actually use them.

Now that he had money, An Jing ate nothing but meals cooked using the finest ingredients. Even the ginseng dragon soup he just had was common compared to the spirit-beast dishes he usually ate. The qi-filled ingredients that he consumed and his youthful and vigorous age helped him make rapid progress in the Minor Yang Sword Art.

Minor yang referred to the initiating motion of yang. An Jing used the sword movements to regulate his body, mind and sword intent to enter a state of mental tranquility. Using the yang aspect of the sun that was just starting to manifest at the break of dawn as a catalyst, he amplified the yang qi that already existed within his own body to refine it and build strong foundations, nurturing a wisp of true-yang aura within himself.

The fact that he had been able to circulate yang qi through his entire body by performing those sword movements meant that he had internalized the sword art deeply. Yang qi had the characteristic of dissipation, making it impossible to be condensed and contained. When channeled out in full force from a sword strike, it was practically unblockable like the sun's rays. Yet, it also lacked any real impact, doing nothing beyond warming whatever it touched. This was far from the intended amount of power that the technique was supposed to channel.

An Jing had to weave the misty yang qi into true-yang aura within his body. This was an act akin to focusing sunlight to a point and redirecting it with a concave mirror until it was able to set things aflame. Only then could he be said to have mastered the sword art and be able to manifest the Ocular Blaze wonder.

The reason he hadn't pushed his mastery to the fullest even though he had grasped the basics was that he wanted to wait for Ming Guangchen to return to ask him whether the other arcane-eye techniques of the Brightmirror Sect had other special requirements or restrictions. He also wanted some pointers for his True Spirit Eyes. Yet, two months had passed since Ming Guangchen left with You Ruhui and Jin Yanhua and he hadn't returned yet.

Did something happen to my master? he wondered as he pulled back his qi essence while the dust in the courtyard settled. Don't tell me that the influence from my celestial arc and You Ruhui's imperial blood finally caught up to him. No... My master is someone with many enemies of his own. Perhaps something bad really did happen to him.

An Jing had quite a good impression of Ming Guangchen, who had taught him many things and properly inducted him on the true teachings of dao. An Jing wanted to be of help to him if he could and hoped that he was safe and sound. However, being so well read coupled with having the Spark made him imagine all sorts of tragic possibilities.

Sheesh! He's a sage of the Void Divine Treasures Realm. Even if something really happened to him in a different continent, he should've left me a message of some kind! If this doesn't work out, I'll have to head to the northern frontier on my own. My warehouse is already stocked full of thunder beads and drones and I do still have the ability token my master left me. As long as I don't run into multiple adepts or sages on my journey, nobody will be able to stop me.

He shook his head hard to dispel those impulses, feeling quite helpless about the situation. But... I can't bear to leave!

The camouflage formation was still active around the courtyard, masking the massive void altar at the center. The void altar was invisible as long as nobody dispelled the camouflage formation. But if An Jing left, the people who came in later to clear things up would bump into the one-zhang-tall object at the center of the courtyard even if they couldn't see it. That would be incredibly troublesome; setting up a private void altar within Grand Chen was a grave crime that came with collective punishment!

Though An Jing wasn't worried about the punishment, he couldn't quite abandon the identity he had crafted for himself so easily for such a flimsy reason. Not to mention, he had a premonition about something else.

He looked toward the mountain range in the distance. The clouds ahead parted from strong winds, allowing streams of golden light to bask on the long, blade-like mountain peaks in the distance, giving it the impression of a sharpened edge. Thanks to his overly sensitive soul and five senses, An Jing could almost smell blood coming from the gold-tinted mountain range ahead.

"I have a feeling that trouble is coming..." His premonition was soon proven right.

"Young Hero... Young Hero Jing!" An urgent voice from the street outside called out for help. "Something bad's about to go down at Blessed Virtue Garden!"

1. This dish is based on a real-life recipe that the Heilongjiang Province is famous for. ☜