It was just a matter of cultivating according to the technique — how hard could it be?
It wasn’t as though he were inventing something from scratch.
Shen Yi felt the confusion steadily piling up in his mind, and rubbed lightly at his temple.
A vast quantity of banked demon lifespan was draining away at speed.
At last, he sensed something beginning to change within the divine spirit in his qi sea.
【Year 793 — You begin to think that perhaps this technique was never meant to provide a single correct answer in the first place — or perhaps all answers are equally correct. Instead of going in circles in your head, you decide to try practicing it first and see what happens】
In an instant, the vast white mist was set into motion once more.
It poured entirely into the divine spirit, flowing slowly through it along some arcane trajectory.
But the flow was anything but smooth — it moved haltingly, as though forcing its way through each passage by degrees.
There were even moments when it simply reversed direction partway through without warning.
【Year 2,900 — Something still feels faintly off. It seems you may have gotten it wrong just now, and for the numberless time, you have changed your approach】
“…”
Shen Yi stared at the panel prompt in silence and sighed inwardly.
Good thing it was putting the divine spirit through the wringer and not his own body — with a cultivation method this chaotic, sooner or later, someone was bound to end up derailed into qi deviation.
Well, consider it practice, then.
The overwhelming accumulated faith finally began to ebb.
In its place, the divine spirit grew steadily more solid, condensed nearly to substance.
It remained seated cross-legged, its features growing sharper and more defined, but its expression growing colder and more remote by the degree — as though it were shedding all attachment to the mortal world, pulling free of the red dust of life, taking on more and more the aspect of a divine statue on a temple altar.
The most visible change was the auspicious cloud that had appeared coiling at its side.
The white mist was still condensing, with a faint tendency toward gathering into a second cloud — but it suddenly stopped short, the mist holding its current state rather than solidifying further.
Shen Yi glanced reflexively at the accumulated faith, noting that roughly a third remained.
He lowered his gaze to the panel. The demon lifespan had simply run dry…
【Year 4,736 — You have long since broken through to the mid-tier of Martial Immortal. Just as you brush against the bottleneck leading to a higher realm, you suddenly sense the lifespan running out, and a wistful lamentation stirs in your heart, a quiet sigh for time gone by…】
【Martial Immortal · Three Origins Immortal Ascension Method: Minor Mastery】
“Hss—”
Shen Yi pressed a hand sharply to his forehead — as though he had personally crossed an endless abyss, only to feel his strength give out just as the other shore came into reach, plummeting helplessly downward, so close and yet utterly out of reach.
He worked to steady his ragged breathing and looked, resigned, at the second line of text.
【Remaining Lifespan: 2,956 years】
It was demon lifespan that had run out, not his own lifespan — there was nothing to be wistful about.
Breaking through the Mixed Origin realm had added a full two thousand years to his life. He was barely past twenty — in the prime of youth. Something like this had no business affecting him.
Shen Yi collected himself quickly and went back to pretending he was a wooden post.
He called Lady Qinghua out and sent her into the divine spirit.
In the next instant, a tall, slender figure stepped out into the room wreathed in white mist, auspicious clouds spiraling around its form — the very picture of an immortal descending to earth.
The overwhelming presence that swept outward very nearly made Shen Yi open his eyes to look.
“This vessel of Master’s is far too powerful — Qinghua is struggling somewhat to manage it…”
Lady Qinghua’s voice sounded in his mind.
A demon soul that had spent ten thousand years being reshaped was apparently now finding things to complain about.
“…”
Shen Yi reached his spiritual sense out to touch the bond between himself and Qinghua, and forced the connection.
A moment later, he had the impulse to open his eyes.
The young man seated on the bed hadn’t moved. But the divine spirit standing with hands at its sides in the room slowly opened its eyes, the already indifferent face acquiring a few degrees more of cold severity.
“Hah.”
This was Shen Yi’s first time controlling the divine spirit himself, and he looked over his own physical body with a sense of novelty.
Qinghua hadn’t been lying. This divine spirit form was, in truth, already a touch too powerful — the demon soul was comparatively frail, and every motion carried a faint, sluggish resistance.
His gaze drifted to the auspicious cloud at his side.
He found himself, for some reason, thinking of the three cloud patterns on the Demon Suppression Division officers’ uniforms.
Perhaps the reason clouds had been chosen as the symbol was precisely because of this Three Origins Immortal Ascension Method — one auspicious cloud marking the mid-tier of Martial Immortal; three clouds gathered together meaning the ability to condense a golden dharma form, to slay demons and suppress evil, to shelter and protect all of Great Qian.
“We’ll make do with this for now. I’ll find a replacement eventually.”
He returned control to Qinghua and settled back into his own body.
With no more powerful demons to draw on at the moment, this was simply the best available option.
“Replace?”
Lady Qinghua looked faintly startled but didn’t dare ask further.
Had Master’s power grown so formidable that even a divine spirit was something one could simply swap out?
Did that mean — could it mean she herself…
At that thought, Lady Qinghua quickly padded forward, and cautiously began to knead Shen Yi’s shoulders.
A divine spirit could channel accumulated faith — it did nothing useful for a mortal body, but it carried a warmth that was faintly pleasant all the same.
Shen Yi had been somewhat worn out by the emotional bleed from several thousand years’ worth of panel derivation.
He made no move to refuse.
Senior Brother Wu had said every Martial Immortal had their own eccentricities — so, apparently, his was having his divine spirit give his physical body a massage. That didn’t seem too strange, all things considered.
As long as communication was maintained through spiritual sense, no one would ever realize this physical body was “awake.”
“When there’s no one around, put on a different face.”
Shen Yi took a sideways glance at Lady Qinghua’s features and found the sight faintly unnerving.
“Qinghua obeys.”
The white mist curling at the divine spirit’s side shifted slightly, and in an instant it had taken on Lady Qinghua’s own appearance — nothing more than a small trick of the accumulated faith, easy enough to manage.
She had once been a demon king of considerable renown; she had never served anyone before, and her technique was a touch clumsy, but Shen Yi wasn’t picky about it.
He rested for the night.
The following morning.
Shen Yi drew the divine spirit back in and tucked Lady Qinghua away into the panel as well — he was, after all, right under the watchful eyes of Spirit-Transformation-level cultivators, and caution was the better part of wisdom.
With his demon lifespan fully spent, there wasn’t much point in staying at the War Temple any longer.
He rose and stepped out into the courtyard.
Perhaps because it was early morning, the Yi section had rather more people milling about than usual, all of them chatting idly in the yard.
The couple in white robes seemed to hold a particularly high standing — they were quiet, neither of them saying much, but whatever anyone else was talking about, they’d pause to seek the pair’s opinion before continuing.
At that moment, the man rose from his seat with a small smile. “Young sir, a moment, please.”
The middle-aged man held a sword in its sheath, cupping his fists with a slight bow. “This one is Lin Qingyang of Lizhou’s Implement Sect, and this is my wife. May I ask your name?”
Lizhou’s Implement Sect.
Superlative-grade treasure artifacts?
Shen Yi slowed to a halt and nodded politely back. “Shen Yi.”
At the sound of the exchange, the other Yi-section disciples all fell quiet, turning to offer the young man a bow of acknowledgment.
Young as he looked, if he’d been placed in the Jia section, he was a cultivator with a genuine shot at Spirit-Transformation — by rank, a War Temple disciple, which put him in the position of their senior, in a sense.
“You’re heading out?” Madam Lin said, holding a smile. “Is there anything we might be able to help with?”
“Going to sit desk duty.”
A simple reply, and then Shen Yi said his goodbyes to the group and left.
A superlative-grade artifact was tempting, but it wasn’t going anywhere — for now, demon lifespan took priority.
Desk duty? Everyone watched Shen Yi walk away, exchanging baffled glances.
The man had only just entered the War Temple, and had surely just received a technique — instead of putting his mind to cultivation, he was going to sit… what sort of desk? Could it be he was still serving in the court as well?
The War Temple loomed overhead, with the two central offices standing to either side.
Even at this early hour, a considerable crowd had already gathered.
Some were there to claim rewards, some for War Temple refinement, some back to file reports.
Shen Yi looked at the long queue and walked straight in, drawing more than a few eyes.
“No uniform — which province is this General from?”
Several people toward the front turned, surprised.
A General cutting the line wasn’t really cutting the line.
And then what they saw next was Liu Kun, behind the counter, abruptly shoving aside the Demon Suppression General in front of him and springing to his feet, spine as straight as a ramrod.
“Commander Shen, you’re…”
“Where’s my desk?”
Shen Yi made his way around behind the counter. Liu Kun froze for a moment, then hastily pointed to a partition off to the side. “This subordinate will show you right—”
“Don’t bother, you’ve got work to do.”
Shen Yi strolled over at his own pace, lifted the curtain, and stepped inside.
“…”
Liu Kun swallowed, and instinctively turned to look at the Demon Suppression Division people waiting in line.
Sure enough, their expressions had already shifted.
Liu Kun hadn’t announced the title out loud, but none of them were fools — anyone with eyes could read what had just happened.
After all these years, the Demon Suppression Division finally had an Inspector again.
“Oh no.”
Liu Kun gave himself a discreet pinch. He prided himself on being quick to read a room, and yet he’d gone and stumbled right here.
He’d thought he had it all figured out — Commander Wu had simply pushed this Shen fellow into the position as a no-show title, so he’d made no preparations whatsoever.
And now this man had actually come in and decided to show off his desk in front of everyone.
With this many people watching… there was no containing it now!
The Nine Provinces’ Demon Suppression Divisions had been plagued by demon troubles for ages, and every last one of them had some grievance or other to air.
If Commander Shen ended up losing face because of all this, Liu Kun himself was going to be in serious trouble.
“Everybody quiet down, form your lines properly!”
He gritted his teeth, gave the counter a hard slap, and managed to get most of the crowd’s eyes back on him — but the murmuring was already spreading and impossible to stop.
At the very back of the queue.
A middle-aged man in black armor came walking over from the distance, then stopped and stood quietly, letting his companion ramble on, offering only the occasional smile in return, his eyes carrying an anxiety and sorrow that wouldn’t clear.
“Old Brother Zhang, I’m just saying — what’s so great about Song Prefecture? You should’ve done what I did and come to the War Temple ages ago. Good pills, good techniques, and you meet all sorts of formidable people.”
Jiang He clapped him cheerfully on the shoulder. “Just yesterday, Brother Jiang here got acquainted with an outstanding young prodigy from Qingzhou — got placed in the Yi section as a Core-Nurturing Perfection cultivator, young as he is, the bearing of a future Mixed Origin Grandmaster already clear to see. We sparred a few rounds, Brother Shen and I — I came away with quite a lot from it, my cultivation’s taken a considerable step forward—”
“Congratulations, Brother Jiang.” Zhang Xuan forced a smile. This man had earned the right to call a Demon Suppression General his brother purely on the strength of that honeyed tongue of his, and if Zhang Xuan believed a single word of it, he deserved to be called a fool.
Just then, a thread of murmuring finally spread wide enough to be made out.
Even a few from the demon-hunters’ side drifted over to catch it — they were the best at sniffing out information, and one of them practically shouted it outright.
“I have a contact inside the War Temple — he said there’s a General from Qingzhou, family name Shen, arrived in the capital just yesterday, and they’ve already promoted him to Deputy Inspector!”
The shout reached Zhang Xuan’s ears.
He stood stunned for a long moment, then rubbed at his ears as though unable to believe what he’d heard. “Inspector… Inspector…”
Something seemed to come back to him, and he whipped around, seizing his companion’s hand. “Brother Jiang — you just said you made the acquaintance of a prodigy from Qingzhou, also family name Shen — surely that wouldn’t happen to be… is there any chance you could introduce us…”
If this surname-Jiang fellow hadn’t been blowing smoke for once, and there really was some connection between them, and he could bring an Inspector back with him—
Zhang Xuan’s breathing grew steadily heavier.
“Er.”
Jiang He licked his lips, his body going a little stiff. “I might be misremembering. Could be a different surname entirely…”
Watching Zhang Xuan’s burning expression, he gave a pained smile. “I’ll do my best, alright? Don’t get your hopes up too much.”
Much as he wanted to help, he didn’t exactly know the man — he barely even knew the name.
Besides, this Inspector was probably not quite what Zhang Xuan was picturing. He wasn’t a Mixed Origin Grandmaster — if he were, what would he be doing in the War Temple at all?
(End of Chapter)