Chapter 57 Where Did My Good Fortune Go?!

After confirming it repeatedly, Chen Yi had no choice but to accept reality with a helpless sigh.

Following the ineffective gift from Mr. Ning, who was at the sixth-grade Return to Origin realm, the reward bestowed upon him by the aged Daoist of the second-grade Divine Wandering realm also failed to increase his counter-attack points.

From this, Chen Yi deduced that the limit of the "boundless fortune" trait must be no less than six major realms apart.

To verify this hypothesis, he needed to find a martial arts powerhouse at the first-grade Void Extremity realm and solicit a reward from them.

As for now, he would first enter the Taixu Dao Sect along with Lin Xueru and the others, and familiarize himself with the environment for a while.

……

Two months later, Mount Wuliang.

It was now November, and winter had arrived, bringing fierce and freezing mountain winds.

Especially during the nighttime, the icy gales would carry ice shards from the depths of Mount Wuliang and whip them in all directions.

Let alone ordinary people without cultivation, even those with true essence protecting their bodies would feel a marrow-piercing chill if they stood in the mountain wind for long.

"Four thousand five hundred and twelve, four thousand five hundred and thirteen..."

The cold, full moon cast a silvery glow, illuminating Chen Yuan's figure.

Compared to when he first entered Mount Wuliang, his once slender frame had become much sturdier, and he had grown half a foot taller.

Although his face still retained a hint of youthful immaturity, his expression had grown much calmer, even indifferent.

Over the past few months, the brutal training schedule imposed on him daily by Yan Hai had not only greatly enhanced his martial arts cultivation, but also forged a much tougher and resilient willpower.

Though at times he would still recall the days in the Prefecture of Kyoto, thinking of Zhou Wanyi and Chen Yi, most of the time he didn't even have a moment to spare for reflection.

That night, after Chen Yuan passed the trial, Yan Hai had packed his daily schedule to the brim.

Aside from a limited amount of time allocated for eating and sleeping, the rest of his time was spent either practicing basic saber techniques or tempering his physique to advance his cultivation.

Moreover, the interval between each training session never exceeded half an incense stick's burning time.

Under such high-intensity training, he was forced to make the absolute most of his limited rest periods, even if it meant forcing himself to sleep.

Otherwise, even with medicinal baths to temper his body and elixirs to heal his wounds, he would never have been able to endure such crushing pressure.

Yet, in Yan Hai's eyes, all of this was still far from enough!

"Did you not eat? You can't even hold your saber steady. Do you want to be killed by someone in a real battle?!"

Watching Chen Yuan practice, Yan Hai sneered sarcastically, "If you can't even master such a simple saber technique, how can you talk about inheriting my Unyielding Saber mantle?"

"Focus your intent! Remember, all saber techniques stem from the basics, from your body's own instincts!"

"If you can't cut a man down, there are no excuses. You can only blame your own lack of cultivation and poor saber skills!"

"Instinct, instinct! Only when every strike you deliver concentrates its power without scattering can you be considered to have stepped through the gates of the Saber Dao!"

"If you fail to enter the Dao of the Saber, don't even dream of catching a glimpse of the Unyielding Saber's supreme arts in this lifetime!"

Leaning against a tree, Yan Hai chided Chen Yuan while periodically pulling out the wine gourd at his waist to take a swig, driving away the biting cold.

Yet, despite the freezing winds—so cold they scraped bloody trails and frost onto Chen Yuan's skin—he never once offered the wine gourd to the boy.

Not long after, Chen Yuan finished practicing his basic saber techniques and was granted half an incense stick's worth of rest time.

However, he did not dare to stop. Dragging his fatigued and frozen body, he stumbled to a wind-sheltered spot and continued to move his limbs.

This would prevent his body from freezing stiff in the mountain wind.

"Once you've rested, go climb the mountain. If you dare to slack off, I'll slaughter you!"

At that moment, Yan Hai frowned as he glanced at a distant peak, dropped those cold words, and turned to leave, abandoning Chen Yuan—who didn't even dare to vent the warm current circulating within his body.

Soon, Yan Hai arrived at the opposite peak. Looking at the elderly steward who acted as though Mount Wuliang were his own estate, Yan Hai frowned and asked,

"Just how much longer do you intend to stay here?"

Chen Ke turned his head to glance at him, then looked back toward Chen Yuan on the distant peak, replying calmly, "Until the master grows impatient."

"Hasn't the old marquis been impatient for a long time? Don't think I don't know you've received five confidential letters in a row during this period."

"You're quite observant. Tell me, how many of those were actually sent by the master?"

A fierce glint flashed in Yan Hai's eyes. "Chen Ke, don't push your luck! I am not your subordinate!"

"And this is not the Marquis of Jingye's estate; this is Mount Wuliang!"

"Anxious, are we?"

In a rare display of humor, Chen Ke chuckled, pulled two specially retained confidential letters from his robe, and handed them over.

"Since you're curious, take a look."

"Hh?" Yan Hai paused, then snatched the letters upon processing his words. He snorted, "I'd like to see what's written on them."

He unfolded the papers and scanned them twice. Frowning slightly, he looked suspiciously at the old steward and asked,

"Is the Chen Yi mentioned here the person I know?"

"Aside from him, there is no second person," Chen Ke smiled. "Two months ago, he entered the Taixu Dao Sect, his cultivation advanced to the eighth-grade Origin Gathering realm, and his swordsmanship has even reached the minor accomplishment stage."

"When the master learned of this, he sent three letters in succession urging me to return. Do you know why I don't want to go back?"

Yan Hai raised the second confidential letter in his hand and frowned. "Is it related to this?"

"In part," Chen Ke nodded. "He wants me to personally make a trip to the Taixu Dao Sect and kill Chen Yi."

"I don't want to do that."

"But the other reason I refuse to return to Kyoto is because of something I want to do even less—he wants to kill Chen Fan!"

"However, I know..."

At this point, Chen Ke paused, his aged and slightly murky eyes reflecting the distant, small figure.

"Even if I don't go back, the master will do it himself."

"Therefore, I must leave."

Yan Hai's brow furrowed tightly. With a snap, he crushed the confidential letter into dust and tossed it into the mountain wind.

"You're telling me all this—you don't expect me to go with you, do you?"

Chen Ke let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. "Of course not. I want you to take good care of him."

Knowing who the other was referring to, Yan Hai snorted, "He's my disciple; I don't need you meddling in my business."

"Instead of wasting time on that, you'd better figure out how you're going to face the old marquis's wrath once you return!"

Wrath...

Chen Ke thought back to a few months ago when he had personally pushed Chen Yuan into the abyss, and then recalled the eldest miss who had come to see the master that night with such desperate resolve. He couldn't help but sigh.

After a moment, he turned to look at Yan Hai, whose leg was crippled, and asked, "I heard you have a blood feud with Li Qingzhou?"

The corner of Yan Hai's eye twitched, his face turning instantly ashen. He said through clenched teeth, "What, exactly, are you trying to ask?"

"In the future, if Yuan'er completes his training and descends the mountain, remember to let him kill Li Qingzhou's disciple."

With those words, Chen Ke drifted away lightly, disappearing into the depths of the night.

Yan Hai stood frozen, his gaze dark, gloomy, and ruthless.

"What my disciple does is not for you to teach!"

"As for Li Qingzhou's disciple, he—"

Before he could finish, Yan Hai's body stiffened as he recalled the contents of the confidential letter he had just read.

Chen Yi, Chen Yuan's second younger brother, was Li Qingzhou's disciple, which meant...

"Hahaha... Chen Ke, oh Chen Ke, you truly live up to your name as the Blood Butcher!"

"This matter, I agree to it!"

To be utterly devoid of emotional ties, to forge the Unyielding Saber by slaying brothers—nothing could be better than that!