The spring's sound was pleasant to the ear, a cool breeze brushing gently. The three stood by the spring.

At the mention of Spirit-Transformation matters, both Shen Yi's and Xu Wanyun's eyes flickered. For most cultivators, that was a realm to be gazed at but never reached; yet for cultivators who could truly touch this path, as early as the Mixed Origin realm they'd already begun paving the road for the great way ahead.

"Wutong Mountain's Ancestor of old — that Return-to-Void great one — once spoke a saying. So-called cultivation: all its principle lies within a single word."

Xu Wanyun forgot her earlier embarrassment, longing welling in her eyes, and then she slowly uttered one word. "Deceive."

"To wield heaven-and-earth's power with a mortal's body, the most crucial thing is to deceive this heaven and earth. Whether condensing a path infant with aura-essence, or gathering the five viscera with various spiritual roots — it's all to make oneself, in heaven-and-earth's eyes, more like a spirit-creature born and grown of nature itself." She pointed at the sky. "To make it think we're its own kind."

With that, Xu Wanyun withdrew her gaze. "A spiritual root's quality represents one's affinity with heaven and earth thereafter. Those cultivators trapped their whole lives at Spirit-Transformation early-stage, however strong their spirit-soul, are limited by their spiritual roots to mobilizing the qi of heaven and earth within a hundred-li range at most."

"However exquisite your technique, however formidable your skill at controlling aura, if the quantity of aura isn't enough, in the end it's only flowers in a mirror, moonlight on water — shattered at a touch."

At this, Shen Yi lifted his eyes toward the azure heavens, likewise stirred with yearning. One must understand, his seemingly offhand palm that had gravely wounded the rotten old man earlier had in fact swallowed several demon-king inner cores. Otherwise half a stroke of the Parting-Flame Heart-Burning Palm alone would have been enough to drain his path infant dry. However much foundation one stored up, there'd always come a day it ran out; only by setting foot in…