Chapter 8: Chapter 8 — Divine Strength

“This is the stable boy who tends my horse—Fang Han. He’s reliable and has never skimmed the feed. Though last time he delayed my hunt and earned ten lashes, I rewarded him five taels of silver.” Fang Qingwei spoke casually.

“Is that so?”
Fang Qingxue paused and thought; no one could read the depths of the young woman’s mind. “I am taking you all to Yuhua Immortal Mountain. Though the mountain is an immortal paradise, it lacks the conveniences of a great city—taking some servants to look after things is necessary. If Fang Han is reliable, bring him along. A good groom can later tend spirit beasts. Very well—let us go.” At her word, hundreds of servants and dozens of carriages set off in a grand procession.

Bai Haichan was right—if I stand among the crowd, the Eldest Miss can see something unusual about me with a single glance. But if she notices I took the Nine-Orifice Golden Elixir, would she kill me on the spot? Can I keep it hidden? Fang Han thought as he led Thousand-Li Snow, trailing the convoy.

Night fell. The Fang entourage reached a county on the edge of Longyuan Province and camped for the night. At the third watch, after he had ground the soymilk, boiled it, fed the horse and given Thousand-Li Snow eggs and meat-powder, Fang Han finally slipped out under cover of darkness to a lonely stretch of plain and began to practice—this time not the Seven-Star Fist, but the secret Pine-Crane Longevity Fist he had stolen.

“Crane-Claw Prints in the Sand!”

“Ice-Crane Guards the Plum!”

“Immortal-Crane Shakes Its Feathers!”

“Crane-Dance Across the Sky!”

“Pine-and-Crane Longevity!”

One by one he unfolded the five techniques, moving like a crane, still as a pine. Like the Seven-Star Fist, the Pine-Crane forms were a superior body-tempering art—but where the Seven-Star style was domineering and forceful, its rival was serene and long-lived, imitating the crane’s carefree longevity. The styles of the Yuhua Sect and the Myriad Stars Sect could be read in those differences alone, Fang Han mused.

Since the Nine-Orifice Golden Elixir nestled at his heart, his strength had surged. His mind grew keen—thoughts quick, learning swift. As he practiced Pine-Crane forms while still thinking of the Seven-Star techniques, the two methods—inner and outer, soft and hard—seemed to blend. Muscles twitched; the elixir spun and shivered at the heart’s rhythm. Its medicinal force flowed outward again and again.

Boom!
The Seven-Star fist’s overbearing style fused, with a shock, into the Pine-Crane’s unhurried grace. Blood circulated through his body nine times in an instant. His heartbeat slowed—fully twice as slow as before—but grew immeasurably stronger, like a hammer striking iron.

“I’ve stepped into the Fifth Stage—Divine Strength!”
Fang Han realized. His body had changed; this was the mark of a new realm. The clearest sign of Divine Strength was the heart’s slower, deeper beat—life that flowed long and unstoppable.

Before he could savor the change, the Nine-Orifice Golden Elixir shifted. The pill, which had been sewn near the heart, now burrowed inward—drawn by the stronger, slower pulses—until it lodged at the very core of his heart. Hidden deeper than before, it became far harder to detect.

He flung out a sudden crane-claw strike and ripped a great strip of bark and wood from a tree. Had his claws caught a living body, they would have torn a patch of flesh clean away. His power had climbed again.

Fang Han moved with ease—dodging, jumping, sprinting; in one burst he covered more than ten feet, then folded back, his whole body flowing with ruthless, lightning-fast precision, like a hunting tiger. A body honed to the Divine Strength stage was a living weapon—force of a galloping horse, agility of an ape, claws like a tiger. Even some of the Fang family’s inner disciples had not reached this level.

“Your Pine-Crane technique is well practiced; you’ve been stealing lessons for a long time, haven’t you?”
a voice said behind him.

So it has come. Fang Han’s heart slammed. He had expected discovery—but hearing it still made his stomach drop. He turned and saw, in the moonlight not far away, the incomparable woman in white—Fang Qingxue.

“Ah—Eldest Miss!”
Fang Han panicked as if caught red-handed. He wanted to flee, froze, then fell to his knees and wailed, playing the part he’d rehearsed countless times in his imagination.

He kowtowed with genuine terror. “Eldest Miss, have mercy! I only peeked—couldn’t help myself. Please spare me!”

Not bad. Fang Qingxue’s gaze flickered; she listened without overt emotion. “It’s good you know to fear your crime. If you had fled, your fate would be no better than that stone over there.” With a single lift of her finger, a streak of violet lightning lanced across the night. A hulking boulder a thousand paces away shaved in two under that blade of light.

So that is the Yuhua Sect’s Violet-Lightning Yin-Thunder Blade. Fang Han trembled. Bai Haichan had died beneath such might—indeed, such power was irresistible. If a Divine-Strength body could be overwhelmed by a Divine-Ability strike, then how could any army of mortals stand before the Divine-Ability masters? Now he understood their otherworldly distance from humanity.

He buried his head lower and mumbled, “Spare me, Eldest Miss… When can I ever step into the Divine Ability Realm and stand as your equal? Bai Haichan wanted me to kill you, but how could I possibly—?”

“Rise,”
Fang Qingxue said in a voice as calm and even as water—her words had the quiet detachment of someone who had erased all petty passions, living only for the slow pursuit of immortality.

“One small test passed.”
Her words loosened his tension, but he remained kneeling as a mark of devotion. “I committed a grave offense. Let me stay kneeling and atone. Please punish me, Eldest Miss.” He bowed his head in a display of allegiance.

Fang Qingxue’s tone softened. “By rights, you could not have reached the Flesh Realm’s Divine Strength simply by training. Did you take some miraculous medicine?”

“Yes. Five years ago, while washing horses in the Longyuan River, a lightning flash struck. A long-horned snake rolled up from the water and frightened me. The snake was then struck down by lightning. Out of curiosity, I pulled it from the river and boiled it—ate it for many days. I also ate its gall. That gall was bright red and hard as stone; I simmered it until it melted. Since then my body has gotten stronger, and I grew bold enough to steal lessons. I deserve death.”
Fang Han’s recitation was not fabricated; it was the story Bai Haichan had fed him.

“A single-horn viper?”
Fang Qingxue’s brows narrowed. “A century ago our ancestor slew a single-horn viper in the Longyuan River—one male. It seems there were two.” Her eyes flashed and she glanced momentarily at Fang Han’s chest. He felt his heart tighten; the Nine-Orifice Golden Elixir stilled. Luck favored him—the pill had been drawn to the heart’s deep core just now, and her attention was caught elsewhere. Had she examined more closely, the elixir’s secret might have been revealed.

“The viper’s gall is indeed a natural tonic that strengthens one’s root and essence. After consuming it, one can develop prodigious strength. You stealing lessons and reaching Divine Strength in five years is… Not without merit,”
Fang Qingxue said. “Many of our core disciples lack your fortune. Still, a single viper gall can only raise you so far. To progress further you need enormous material resources. Come with me to Yuhua Immortal Mountain and tend the spirit beasts.”

With that she drifted away like a cloud.

Passed the trial! Fang Han only allowed himself to breathe after she disappeared. That exchange had been a knife-edge; a moment earlier, his fate had been uncertain.