CHAPTER 177: FASTING

After a brief rest, Li Yanchu continued his journey through the wilderness, his figure darting swiftly across the ruins. At last, he came upon another Daoist temple.

The black sun above the sky had not yet fully vanished, so there was still some time before nightfall.

Even so, after confirming that there was no danger inside the temple, Li Yanchu went in. He couldn’t afford to rush.

He decided to spend the night here in this Daoist temple, rather than keep pushing toward the colossal mountain and risk getting caught out after dark, unable to find shelter in time.

This decision meant he would be staying inside the temple’s main hall until the next day. It was ultimately a matter of personal choice.

Some people, in order to save time, might take the gamble and race ahead in search of the next temple.

After all, reaching the center of this Blissful Land on Mount Jinting a little earlier and getting to that massive solitary peak might very well mean seizing the immortal fate ahead of everyone else!

Even if it was only a possibility, many would take the risk for that chance. But Li Yanchu chose to remain here, in this Daoist temple.

Immortal fate, immortal fate, it still comes down to fate. If it’s meant to be mine, it won’t escape me. If it’s not meant to be, no amount of forcing it will make a difference. He thought this to himself with calm acceptance.

As before, the main hall of this Daoist temple enshrined a statue of a Daoist immortal. With his back straight and a long sword slung across his back, he had an extraordinary aura of composure and grace.

Li Yanchu first gave a respectful bow to this Daoist predecessor, just as he had before. Only then did he begin to search the temple for anything of value.

This time, however, his luck was not so good, he found nothing at all, not even a single item imbued with divine power!

Li Yanchu felt a bit disappointed, but he quickly let it go.

“Looks like not every temple holds treasures. I was getting a little greedy.”

If others discovered the same, then even fewer people would choose to stop at temples along the way. Everyone would be eager to press on toward the massive, solitary mountain that was most likely the true Mount Jinting.

Li Yanchu sat quietly inside the Daoist temple.

He cleared his mind of distractions and began to recall the various spells and techniques recorded in the Yellow Court Classic.

Now that he had reached the second realm and was capable of astral projection, and with protective talismans like the talismanic armor and the Spirit Officer Summoning Talisman, both of which nourished the soul, his divine sense was much stronger than most rudimentary second realm cultivators.

He could now memorize instantly, with extraordinary sensory acuity.

The Yellow Court Classic, such an important Daoist text, had long been committed to his memory. Though he hadn’t practiced many of the techniques it described, he had already engraved them in his heart.

Now, he was ready to begin cultivating one of them: Fasting Art. Previously, since he had been focused on worldly cultivation, he hadn’t paid much attention to this particular Daoist art. Plus, Li Yanchu had never expected this Blissful Land to be so vast and practically the scale of an ancient nation!

And the way he’d entered was far too sudden, giving him no time to prepare. That was why he hadn’t cultivated the Fasting Art before now.

The so-called Fasting Art allowed practitioners to go without food or drink and live on wind and dew, free of grains, mundane food, or worldly sustenance, subsisting purely on qi. It wasn’t some earth-shattering divine ability, just a supportive technique for Daoist cultivation.

Yet it had already become nearly lost to time. Perhaps the reclusive Quanzhen Daoism still preserved it, since their disciples often went into seclusion for eight or ten years at a time, rarely interacting with the world.

Li Yanchu focused his spirit, kept his thoughts unified, and sat cross-legged in the ruins of the Daoist temple, silently meditating on this Daoist art.

For an ordinary person to cultivate the Fasting Art, it would take three full years to achieve minor success. One would be able to live without grains, requiring only water to maintain bodily functions. To go even further and truly live without eating or drinking, sustaining oneself on qi alone, would require at least ten years of arduous cultivation.

One also needed a certain level of Daoist cultivation to even begin. Time slipped by, minute by minute, and before long, two hours had passed.

The sky grew ever darker.

A stream of heaven and earth spirit qi, invisible to the naked eye, was drawn in through Li Yanchu’s nose and mouth. It flowed slowly into his internal organs, nurturing vitality and forming a perfect circulation within his body. Eventually, the qi settled into his dantian and sea of energy.

All fatigue vanished from Li Yanchu, and he felt no hunger or thirst whatsoever. The Fasting Art was successfully mastered!

Li Yanchu slowly opened his eyes, a faint trace of joy appearing in them. To be able to comprehend and cultivate the fasting art in such a short time was, in itself, a shocking feat.

Now I no longer have to worry about food or water, he thought to himself.

With this art by his side, he now had a distinct advantage over others wandering the Mount Jinting Blissful Land.

No matter how high their cultivation, as long as they were mortal flesh and blood, they couldn’t escape the need for sustenance. When that time came, there might even be chaos and bloodshed over supplies.

Li Yanchu, however, was now much more at ease. He even began using the dense spiritual qi of this Blissful Land to start cultivating the Yellow Court Classic.

His natural talent for internal cultivation wasn’t particularly exceptional, so with an environment like this, he had to make the most of it.

A single day of cultivation here was equivalent to four or five days outside.

Roughly an hour into his meditation, the sounds of intense combat suddenly erupted outside the great hall of the Daoist temple.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Li Yanchu followed the sound and looked, and he saw that the ones fighting were a tall man in green robes and a strikingly beautiful young woman.

The green-robed man had a deep, gaping scar across his face. The wound sliced diagonally from his left eye, the flesh turned outward, the cut deep enough to reveal bone. It made him look utterly ferocious and terrifying.

In his hand, he wielded a massive nine-ring broadsword, which was as sharp as a razor with colorful tassels tied to the hilt. He radiated killing intent, relentlessly pursuing the woman in tight-fitting clothes.

It was hard to tell her exact age; at first glance, she looked seventeen or eighteen, but a closer look made her seem more like she was in her twenties.

Her eyes were bright and lively, full of spirit and intelligence, and she had an expression that stirred a deep sense of pity and protectiveness. In her hand, she carried an iron sword, fighting as she retreated step by step. Clearly, her strength was starting to falter.

A young woman like her, with such fragile beauty, could easily stir the urge to step in and protect her.

The two of them charged straight toward the Daoist temple, clearly aware that terrifying entities would appear in the ruins once night fell.

Li Yanchu, dressed in Daoist robes and standing tall and straight, stood at the entrance of the grand temple hall, silently watching the scene unfold.

“Daoist Master, save me! Daoist Master, please save me!”

The woman's voice was clear and composed, but carried a hint of panic. She was obviously being pushed to the brink by the man in green.

Every strike from the green-robed man’s broadsword carried a fierce saber aura. His strikes were sharp and deadly, filled with killing intent.

When he saw the woman calling to Li Yanchu for help, he shouted angrily, “Filthy Daoist priest! Mind your own damn business! Or I’ll chop off your head and kick it around like a ball!”

He was clearly a ruthless rogue cultivator, the kind who shed blood with his saber and killed without blinking. His words were venomous, designed to provoke.

Li Yanchu wore a faint smile on his face, but showed no sign of anger.

“Very well, I won’t interfere.” With that, he simply turned and walked back into the main hall decisively without hesitation.

Both the green-robed man and the woman in battle dress were momentarily stunned. Then, the young and beautiful woman bolted madly into the temple, fleeing for her life. The two of them, one chasing and one fleeing, entered the ruins of the Daoist temple one after the other.

In the blink of an eye, they exchanged over a dozen blows.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The young woman, drained of strength, was finally disarmed. Her longsword went flying after the green-robed man landed a heavy kick.