Chapter 16: Heart-Devouring Death, Willow Sword Technique

With a light tap of his toes against the tree trunk, he drifted forward like a dandelion floating on the breeze, gliding more than thirty feet with a single leap. It was Su Yi’s first attempt at using lightness skill to travel through the forest, and he found himself thoroughly enjoying the experience. Admittedly, with his current level of mastery, this way of traveling wasn’t as fast as sprinting at full speed through the woods, but the elegance of the movement was beyond compare.

Returning to the mountain path, Su Yi continued on toward Jiangting City. The journey from there was uneventful. Before noon, he arrived outside the city gates.

The sun hung high in the sky as a grand, imposing city emerged on the horizon. Dozens of well-worn roads converged at the city gate from every direction, and the surrounding suburbs, rich from the wealth flowing in from all corners, were crowded with houses. Willows drooped along the riverbanks, their reflections shimmering in the spring light. The streets bustled with the shouts of vendors and the clamor of commerce; even the most prosperous county seats could scarcely rival such lively scenes.

Jiangting stood at a crucial crossroads, where the Han River met the Great River, with the vast waters of Suiyang stretching southward, and the mighty current pouring eastward into the sea. It was one of the largest cities in the land. Su Yi followed the thronging crowds into the city, taking in the sights with great interest. The ancient city, though lacking the towering skyscrapers of the modern world, possessed a charm all its own, the kind of atmosphere he’d only seen in films and television.

As it was still early, Su Yi wandered along the main thoroughfare for more than half an hour before selecting an inn with a broad, imposing facade.

The inn’s sign read “Guanglong,” its banner fluttering in the wind. Couplet scrolls flanked the entrance: “From dusk, we greet guests from the five lakes; at dawn, we welcome travelers from the three isles.” A sharp-eyed attendant at the door greeted him warmly. “Welcome, sir! Will you be dining or staying?”

“Both,” Su Yi replied.

The attendant led him into the hall and registered a room. Su Yi, flush with wealth—having recently acquired a handsome sum in the mountains—was not one to stint on comfort. He requested an upper room, inspected it with the attendant, and then returned downstairs to order a generous lunch.

As Su Yi carried a sword on his back and looked every inch a martial artist, no one found it strange when he ordered a substantial spread of food and wine. After lunch, Su Yi borrowed a scale from the inn and returned to his room.

Behind closed doors, he laid out the gold and silver he’d acquired to weigh and assess his spoils.

There were fourteen gold leaves in total, each weighing three taels, and the silver amounted to around one hundred and fifty taels. According to the information provided by the system, the units of weight in this world were the same as those in the real world, with the exchange rate between gold and silver being one to twenty. A single tael of silver had the purchasing power equivalent to six hundred yuan in modern currency. By that calculation, the gold and silver now in his possession amounted to approximately six hundred thousand yuan—a considerable fortune in this pre-industrial world.

And that did not include the two catties of silver and the small pouch of synthetic diamonds he had brought from the modern world.

In any case, being flush with cash could only help in completing his mission. After all, weren’t there plenty of people in the real world who excelled in games simply by spending real money?

He repacked the gold and silver and turned his attention to another book left behind by the black-clad elder, Duan Yan.

The book was filled with content. The first section detailed Duan Yan’s unique Black Iron Staff Technique, followed by a poison skill called the Rakshasa Palm. Su Yi did not examine the cultivation methods in detail, but he did look into the power of the poison. It was said that once mastered, the poison palm could make those within three feet retch from its mere presence; those lacking in strength or will would fall dizzy and faint, and if struck, the poison would cling to the bones, nearly impossible to expel—its victims would writhe in agony for a day and night before dying with blood streaming from every orifice.

A fearsome technique indeed, though the old man had never had the chance to use it.

The latter part of the book contained personal insights on applying strength. Su Yi studied these carefully. Although he had already fully comprehended the “Devouring Whale Technique,” it was always beneficial to learn from the practical experiences of others. With his now-enhanced memory and understanding, he quickly absorbed the key points in less than half an hour.

The last two pages described the process for making a poison called “Heart-Devouring Death Powder.” It required seventeen kinds of venomous insects and five types of poisonous herbs, and after an elaborate forty-nine-day process, it could be refined. According to the book, this poison was created at great cost by a former sect leader of the Yuanmo Sect centuries ago. Once ingested, its effects would spread throughout the body in moments, with no antidote save for a special detoxifying pill infused monthly with true qi from the Devouring Whale technique, administered by a Yuanmo Sect member to suppress the poison.

Of course, while the “Heart-Devouring Death Powder” was said to be incurable, it was not entirely impossible to neutralize its effects. The “Devouring Whale Technique,” as the supreme art of the Yuanmo Sect, could even absorb others’ internal power—naturally, it could also eliminate the poison. In fact, if applied for good, the technique could be considered a miraculous healing art, equally effective for oneself and others.

Unfortunately, for those of the demonic path, harming others for personal gain was the norm, while selfless acts of healing held little appeal.

Comparing the descriptions in the book, Su Yi examined the three bottles of pills he had taken, uncorking each to identify them. He determined that one bottle contained the “Heart-Devouring Death Powder,” while the other two held the special antidote pills.

With such infamous and sinister substances, Su Yi abided by the principle that “medicine itself is neither good nor evil—only its use determines that,” and decided to keep them for future use.

Having finished reading the book left by the Yuanmo Sect elder Duan Yan, Su Yi next picked up the “Willow-in-the-Wind Sword Technique.”

This sword technique comprised thirty-six forms, complete with footwork and mental training. The essence lay in striking swiftly, and if the attack missed, to sway and drift like a willow in the wind, seeking a new opening—solid and cautious, embodying the art of survival. With Su Yi’s now keen understanding, having digested the “Devouring Whale Technique,” he found much merit in this swordplay. It was no wonder even a figure like Duan Yan had treasured it.

Pity the young master who had possessed such skill and wealth, his future boundless, only to fall victim to a treacherous ambush while galloping through the remote mountains—who could he seek for justice?

Reflecting that by killing Duan Yan, he had in a way avenged the young master, Su Yi felt at ease and committed the entire “Willow-in-the-Wind Sword Technique” to memory.

The upper room he had taken was not cheap, measuring over thirty square meters. Su Yi took up his blade in place of a sword and began to practice the forms within his room.

After more than an hour’s diligent training, Su Yi felt a little weary. He lay down on the bed and took a nap.