Chapter 47: Three Strands of Ashen Thread

She seemed timid, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Brother Shanglu, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

Shanglu, who was the leader among the three standing to the left before the boundary gate, hadn’t expected that, upon stepping out of the Chaotic Stream Shadowland and barely catching his breath, he would run into the very person he least wished to meet.

“Stop!” Seeing her suddenly approaching with small steps, he hastily called out. “Demoness, do you really think I don’t know who you are? Speak your mind, but take another step, and don’t blame me for acting!”

As he spoke, he made a show of rolling up his sleeves, ready for a fight.

“You truly don’t understand a woman’s heart, young sir. This place is perilous. Although there are three stalks of Xuanchen Grass and time is short, for safety’s sake, it’s best we join forces.”

Shanglu pondered for a moment, tapped his palm with his paper fan, then replied, “Let me think it over. We’ll wait until my second and third brothers arrive safely. Though I’m the eldest, I still need to hear their opinions.”

As they spoke, more people gradually arrived, but none materialized directly—rather, they closed in from all directions on foot.

Each held a Shadow Branch, undoubtedly using it to find their way. Upon entering the boundary gate, one would be randomly dropped somewhere within the Chaotic Stream Shadowland, so the exits naturally differed. The Shadow Branch not only pointed the way but also clarified one’s location. With it, regrouping was not difficult.

When seven had gathered, a quick count showed three still missing: Qin Chuan and the two strange-looking men from the right side.

Wan Tong grew uneasy—could that alchemist have really perished in the Chaotic Stream Shadowland? Her expression remained ordinary, though she muttered a few complaints.

“Who knows where Kongqing and his companion, along with that outer disciple, have gone,” Shanglu said, as if he hadn’t heard Wan Tong’s mutterings. “But I imagine Kongqing went directly to seek a Xuanchen Grass. Should we wait for the outer disciple?”

“Do you know which Xuanchen Grass Kongqing seeks?” Wan Tong’s eyes brightened, her expression turning serious.

Shanglu simply shook his head. “No idea, no idea…” He unconsciously tapped the fan in his palm, pointing it toward the Zhen position.

“My brothers and I have rested enough. We had hoped to travel with Junior Sister Wan, but since she insists on waiting for that outer disciple, we have no choice but to go on. We’ll head out first—please forgive us…”

With these words, he signaled the other two with his eyes, and under a surge of spiritual energy, they vanished into a nearby forest in just a few breaths, startling birds and beasts in their wake. Soon, all was quiet again.

Wan Tong ignored Shanglu, who had entered the woods, and glanced, as if inadvertently, toward the Xuanchen Grass at the Zhen position, as though her gaze could traverse a thousand mountains and rivers.

The three behind her were growing impatient, urging her repeatedly. “Senior Sister, let’s set out quickly. That outer disciple probably won’t make it here.”

In their eyes, Qin Chuan was just an outer disciple. If he were an inner disciple, his cultivation wouldn’t be so feeble—just at the first level of Qi Refining—and his companion wouldn’t be a mere fifth-level steward.

Wan Tong’s look soured. If not for the sect’s orders, she would never have cared about the life or death of such an alchemist. “Let’s wait a little longer.”

Within the Chaotic Stream Shadowland.

Qin Chuan felt the surrounding dust energy and slowly smiled. Here, he was like a king. The dust energy circled him affectionately.

To them, he seemed the only kin in the world; his will was their will, his feelings were their feelings, his path was their path!

With a flicker of thought, the dust energy surged in, swarming around him and gathering beneath him, forming a platform that carried him along in the direction indicated by his Shadow Branch.

When the last wisp of green fluff withered from the foxtail grass, Qin Chuan looked up.

His deep gaze pierced the layers of gray currents, seeing through the Wind-Listening Realm. In Wan Tong’s seemingly calm eyes, a trace of worry flickered.

The other three pressed her to move on, but her resolve was unmoved. “Enough noise! I can’t tell you the stakes, but that one won’t die. We’ll just wait.”

Uncharacteristically, she showed no sign of caution, her tone tinged with irritation. She had no way of knowing if Qin Chuan was still alive; she was merely following a secret sect order. She knew well that Qin Chuan was far from as simple as he appeared, but all she could do was hope, worry unconcealed in her eyes. Unbeknownst to her, Qin Chuan saw everything clearly.

He knew that, with a single step, he could enter the Wind-Listening Realm, but he was in no rush; there remained a task unfinished.

Back in the Illusory World of Transformation, he had learned that the world itself followed the laws of yin and yang, of generation and destruction. So it was with heaven and earth, so it was with pills: each pill was a microcosm, and each microcosm a pill.

He had lingered in the illusory shadowland for countless ages, constructing a world within his mind. This world was unknowable to heaven, to others—only he knew it.

A world—a pill!

When Qin Chuan opened his eyes, the whites suddenly turned ashen, blending with the surrounding currents, then flashed with a mysterious brilliance.

The world in his eyes was utterly changed! Here, apart from dust energy, there was nothing—and yet, it was as if there was everything.

What seemed intangible to others, Qin Chuan could reach out and pluck. This was a wind sphere, no larger than his palm, condensed into his hand.

But in his eyes, it was a cauldron!

The law of yin and yang, of creation and destruction! One thing gives rise to all things, one path evolves into ten thousand!

He then plucked three strands of hair and tossed them into the cauldron. As the three dark hairs fell, they transformed into three wisps of gray energy, quietly coiling at the cauldron’s base.

He had a cauldron, he had ingredients—what he lacked was a “spark” to refine the pill!

Of the four main methods of pill refinement—earth, wind, water, and fire—none were readily available here. But a resourceful man always finds a way.

Qin Chuan exhaled a stream of black-and-white energy, which swept away all the vitality, spiritual energy, and longevity from his body, leaving only his soul. His eyes, now clouded with yellow-gray, shone with a strange light.

The black-and-white stream circled the cauldron, causing it to slowly melt and merge with the gray energy at its base, until both fused together.

What Qin Chuan did not know was that, just as the fusion was about to complete, a buzzing rose in the sky outside the boundary gate; the cloud of tribulation grew denser, thunder flickered within, but it could find no source to strike. In the end, when it reached its climax, it struck the boundary gate and surrounding formation at random, then slowly dissipated.

The gray currents around the formation surged, sometimes opening gaps, but these were instantly filled.

When the black-and-white current returned to Qin Chuan’s mouth, he extended his right hand, revealing three strands of gray hair in his palm, his eyes bright with delight.

He wiped the three strands over his head; the black hair concealed the gray, making it impossible to notice unless one looked closely.

Looking at Qin Chuan’s appearance now, he seemed greatly withered, like a starving pauper who hadn’t eaten for ages, but his eyes still shone with spirit—those who knew him would recognize him at a glance.

He no longer hesitated and stepped forward.

“Ah!” Wan Tong gasped in surprise as she finally saw someone step from the void. It seemed an illusion, but the sinister winds around them abruptly stilled, as if the king they served had returned!

She cleared her mind of all idle thoughts, her tone tinged with anger. “Keep this Shadow Branch safe—don’t lose it. If you get lost, it’ll help you find me quickly.”

No wonder Wan Tong was in a foul mood: the four of them had waited nearly an hour for Qin Chuan, while the other two groups had long since departed.

Upon entering the Wind-Listening Realm, Qin Chuan felt a brief discomfort—here, dust energy and spiritual energy mixed chaotically, not pure like elsewhere. But after a moment, he found that familiar sense of kinship again.

As for his altered appearance, it was easily explained. Everyone assumed that, with his weak cultivation and the long delay, he must have used some forbidden technique that harmed his foundation, thus exhausting himself.

Their disdain for him only grew. They wondered why Senior Sister had brought him onto her team—was he just meant as cannon fodder? The thought made them feel a little better.

“There are many serpents in this area. You must be careful—if bitten, cut off the afflicted part at once!”

Despite this warning, the group moved swiftly, encountering few snakes and insects. Instead, they saw some birds and beasts, but all were ordinary creatures, posing no threat, so they simply ignored them.

This stretch of forest was only the outer edge of the Wind-Listening Realm, so most of what they encountered were ordinary animals.

As they passed through the forest and entered a stone forest, Wan Tong suddenly halted, her voice timid. “Be careful—something feels wrong.”

Before anyone could respond, the stone pillars throughout the forest began to rumble and shake, even making the ground tremble so that no one could stand steady.

A fierce wind rose, blurring their vision. The stone forest, once ordinary, had somehow, without warning or record, become the site of a concealed formation!

The pillars, large and small, shifted positions, their shapes varied—no one could tell which was the formation’s core.

The wind grew sharper, and cold sweat broke out on everyone’s faces.

What was this? Of the five, all but Qin Chuan felt a jolt of terror. Someone couldn’t help but cry out, their voice trembling, “A thousand ghosts wailing!”

All around, in the gray currents and dark haze, ghostly faces bulged, sending the four’s faces pale with fright and disbelief.

No one noticed the strange look that flashed in Qin Chuan’s eyes as he saw the ghostly faces.

Among the four, Wan Tong remained the calmest. “Big Kidney! The four of us will use the Wind-Listening Token to shield you—go break the formation, or it’ll be too late and we’ll all die!”