Chapter Sixteen: The Secret of the Millennium Huang Mansion (2)

The traditional method of cultivation was singular: one would practice the technique aligned with their innate spiritual root. This was not an error of later generations, but rather a necessity imposed upon cultivators a thousand years ago. Those of lesser talent and ability had no other choice; only by focusing on one path could they hope to achieve their own enlightenment. It was much like the small shrine in Flamefire Village, dedicated to the Evil God of Fiery Clouds—a being who embodied this very principle.

Over time, this practice evolved into the current system of cultivating a single force of the Great Dao, resulting in the rarity of deities in the present age. Fire Qilin’s understanding was correct: spiritual roots merely enhanced one’s affinity with a particular branch of the Great Dao. For example, if one possessed a fire root and cultivated the Dao of fire, their abilities would be strengthened, and their fire spells would gain additional power. Furthermore, fire held a powerful advantage over metal; those with metal roots would have little defense against fire, unless their strength was overwhelming enough to counteract this inherent suppression.

After a quarter hour, Fire Qilin opened his eyes from meditation. The spiritual energy within him had been refined, though he could not yet grasp the precise benefits—he only sensed a distinct change compared to before. Unable to pinpoint the difference, he moved on to study a new technique, randomly selecting a manual titled “Hundred Fire Thunderclap Formula” and began practicing its methods.

This manual recorded spells that combined fire and thunder, complementing each other. Its difficulty was classified as heavenly tier—among the highest, with only god-tier techniques surpassing it. Beneath it were earth, profound, and yellow-tier techniques. Its status as a heavenly-tier manual owed to its dual mastery of fire and thunder, both considered supreme powers.

Heavenly-tier techniques were rare; merely glimpsing them was fortune enough, let alone mastering them—a true stroke of destiny. As Fire Qilin’s spiritual energy surged, the manual opened itself to the first page, and he began to practice as instructed.

The first page contained basic spells: a thunder technique to paralyze foes and a fire spell to conjure fireballs. Yet most intriguing was the last line, introducing a combined attack called the Unified Fire Thunderclap Slash. The power of this combined technique was immense, but so too was its drain on spiritual energy. For someone of Fire Qilin’s modest cultivation, managing a single use would be a significant achievement.

Another half hour passed in the blink of an eye, and Fire Qilin had mastered the three secret techniques in essence. Yet to wield them proficiently, actual practice would be essential—a step he must take, for it was the only way to confirm his theories.

“Xiao Qing, step back. Let me try this barrier,” Fire Qilin said.

“Alright,” replied Xiao Qing.

Xiao Qing retreated behind Fire Qilin, moving further away at his insistence. Only then did he calm his mind and begin to test the newly learned skills.

Planting his feet firmly, hands pressed together above his head, he gathered spiritual energy through both the Dao True Method and his internal core. In an instant, he melded thunder in his left hand and fire in his right, forging them into a single technique.

Indeed, he was about to unleash the Unified Fire Thunderclap Slash.

Suddenly, the flooring of the Yellow Mansion trembled violently. Objects nearby seemed to rise without wind, and the ground beneath Fire Qilin’s aura sank into a pit. Under Xiao Qing’s astonished gaze, he moved.

“Unified—Fire—Thunder—Clap—Slash!”

A massive sword of flame, crackling with lightning, materialized in the void, descending upon the barrier before him. With a thunderous crash, a fissure appeared in the barrier. At the same moment, Fire Qilin collapsed, drained of all energy.

No one could have anticipated that such a formidable barrier would show a crack, yet now was not the time to dwell on it. Fire Qilin’s spiritual energy had been utterly depleted by the combined technique, leaving him a shadow of his energetic self.

Fortunately, Xiao Qing rushed to his side and supported him, sparing him from a painful fall.

“I’m fine. Just let me rest for a bit,” Fire Qilin said.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, activating the Dao True Method and his internal core to restore his energy.

Time was a torment, especially now. It took him two full hours to fully recover his spiritual energy. When he finally opened his eyes, Xiao Qing had fallen asleep nearby, placing a variety of food at his side—clearly gathered from another mansion for his nourishment.

Without hesitation, he ate first; after all, “man is iron, rice is steel—skip a meal and you become a fool.”

Once fed, he carried Xiao Qing to a nearby room and laid her on a bed. Then he resumed practicing the Unified Fire Thunderclap Slash. But before that, to ensure Xiao Qing was undisturbed, he studied an ancient manual called the Four Virtues Scripture and pressed Xiao Qing’s sleep acupoint, allowing her to rest peacefully.

It was not until dawn on the third day that he managed to create a small hole in the barrier.

“It’s done. As long as I can get inside, that’s all that matters,” Fire Qilin declared.

He felt neither hunger nor fatigue; instead, his vigor was boundless, as if he could go a day without food or drink. This was thanks to the Dao True Method—a heart technique as profound as any god-tier method, derived from the enlightenment of a Daoist master.

Few in any era had cultivated the Daoist Great Dao, which was why the yellow fox spirit had occupied the Yellow Mansion for so many years, leaving the manuals intact until Fire Qilin stumbled upon them.

He glanced at Xiao Qing but did not approach her; who knew what dangers lurked within the barrier? He would not risk her life.

Nor would he risk his own, so he donned a soft armor taken from his treasure pouch and jumped alone into the barrier.

The other mansion’s interior was spacious, mirroring the scene outside. Within, only a stone platform stood, and upon it, a floating box suspended in the air.

Fire Qilin approached cautiously, wary of unforeseen danger. What should have taken a few steps, he stretched into a quarter hour—his anxiety slowing his progress.

When he finally reached the platform, he realized his fears were unfounded; nothing threatened him, and he had worried for nothing.

The box atop the platform was exquisitely carved, its surface depicting a lifelike beast—but only the upper half, the lower half conspicuously absent.

He wondered who had carved this strange beast, lending it such an uncanny appearance. The more Fire Qilin looked, the more he sensed the box’s contents were extraordinary.

The beast’s depiction radiated a terrifying oppression; were it not merely an image, Fire Qilin might have already collapsed in fear—perhaps even lost his life.

He hurried to the rear of the box, escaping the oppressive aura. With his cultivation, a moment more under its influence might have left him spitting blood.

Indeed, relics from a millennium ago were remarkable; even a mere carving could possess such power. If the beast were real, a breath from it could obliterate him.

Only now did Fire Qilin truly grasp the nature of immortals.

At the back of the box, the oppressive feeling vanished. Instead, he found gentle, peaceful runes—glowing brightly but not harshly, evoking a warmth akin to kinship, compelling him to draw closer.

Gradually, Fire Qilin became entranced, a smile appearing as he approached the box. It was a perilous situation, for he moved toward the box involuntarily, the true nature of the box unknown, yet it could manipulate a person so easily.

He was like a puppet, guided by the runes, unconsciously chanting incantations.

Yet, coincidentally, at that moment, the Dao True Method began to operate on its own, dispelling his dazed state.

In the next instant, Fire Qilin shook his head and regained some clarity, quickly retreating several steps.

“That was close—almost fell into a trap,” he murmured.

Indeed, the Dao True Method had saved him; without it, his lack of foundational heart technique might have spelled disaster.

This box was truly bizarre, both the beast carving and the runes equally formidable. Who crafted it? Who placed it here? And what treasure inside warranted such elaborate protection?

Outwardly unremarkable, only those who touched it could perceive its mysteries and its extraordinary nature.

Fire Qilin eyed the box and reconsidered. Life was precious, and until he attained immortality, he would not court death recklessly.

Just as he resolved to let go and turn away, the stone platform stirred—what new trickery was this?