Yang Qianxiang had assumed all along that Commander Shen had been sent by the War Temple to reinforce Song Prefecture.
But things were looking rather different from what he’d assumed.
These four Custodians had come over looking ready for a fight — and somehow they seemed to be under the impression that he owed them a person.
“Where is he!”
Wu Dao’an drew a deep breath and forced his anger down.
So the man had finally come back.
If he didn’t give Shen Yi a proper lesson today, he’d spent all those years cultivating his divine spirit for nothing.
The other three Custodians could see the fury radiating off Senior Brother Wu, and said nothing to intervene.
What did a prodigy fear most?
Falling before they’d had the chance to grow into their potential.
Young people like this were full of pride and short on patience for advice — and now with Qingqiu sniffing around, a firm lesson really was in order. Even if it stung a little, it beat everyone sitting around in quiet regret after something genuinely went wrong.
“He… he came back.”
Yang Qianxiang, wiry frame hemmed in from all sides, swallowed hard, and raised a finger toward the courtyard.
Before he’d even finished the sentence, a divine spirit seized him by the collar and carried him straight toward the Jia section.
The three other Custodians watched Senior Brother Wu send out his divine spirit directly, smiled with weary resignation, shook their heads, and followed on foot.
Was this really necessary? The Inspector had only just returned — he couldn’t be planning to run off again quite so soon.
The Jia section.
Shen Yi sat on the bed with the Golden Wolf jade token in hand, doing his best impression of an inert block of wood.
He’d just opened the panel.
And then came a gentle knock at the door.
He opened his eyes and waved a ripple of qi to push the door open.
There stood Yang Qianxiang, looking somewhat meek, with a divine spirit behind him, hands clasped behind its back, two dense cloud-patterns coiling around it.
Shortly after, three figures in blue-green robes stepped into the courtyard as well.
Drawn by the commotion, the scattered divine spirits of the Jia section all began drifting in toward the courtyard, quietly lining themselves up in a row to watch.
“…”
Shen Yi frowned at the doorway, slightly puzzled.
What was all this about?
“Well, Junior Brother Shen — how did you find Song Prefecture? Worthwhile trip?” Wu Dao’an said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Shen Yi glanced at the numbers on his panel and gave a nod. “Not bad.”
“Planning to go again?” Wu Dao’an’s eye twitched twice, and the other three Custodians moved forward in resigned solidarity.
“Depends on the situation.”
Shen Yi felt something was slightly off, but gave a small nod all the same.
Whether he went or not mainly depended on whether there was anything in it worth his while.
At that, all the Custodians cleared their throats in unison. “Ahem.”
Sure enough, Wu Dao’an’s face shifted, and he walked directly over to the young man’s side.
His hand tightened slightly; his breathing quickened.
“Oh my.”
The row of divine spirits outside the door perked up with visible interest. It had been a very long time since they’d seen the old Wu act on something personally.
The Custodians exchanged glances — they couldn’t quite hold back the impulse to say something. Teaching a lesson was one thing, but they didn’t need to bruise the young man’s pride in front of an audience.
“Junior Brother Shen.”
Under everyone’s watching eyes, Wu Dao’an forced a smile that came out more pained than intended, gave Shen Yi a light pat on the shoulder, and said, in the tone of a man trying very hard to be patient, “Hear this old man out for a moment. How wide is the world — the Nine Provinces are just a small corner of it. When it’s time to cultivate, you have to settle your mind and apply yourself.”
“Once you’ve forged a golden dharma form and achieved Spirit-Transformation, ten thousand years of lifespan would be the least of it. Wherever you want to go in the world, you’ll be able to go. Whatever sights you want to see, you’ll see them. There’s no need to rush.”
“Do you hear me?”
Wu Dao’an labored to make his smile look more kindly.
“…”
Shen Yi instinctively wanted to push the old man’s face away, fingers twitching — but he restrained himself.
“Look — even if you did go to Song Prefecture, what did it actually accomplish, other than wasting time?” Wu Dao’an pressed on, with considerable patience.
Yang Qianxiang gingerly raised his head. “Well, he did kill two demon kings and clear out every demon in Song Prefecture…”
He’d been listening long enough to finally piece something together.
The War Temple, it seemed, had no idea what Commander Shen’s actual capabilities were.
“Quiet. What are you on about — he’s a divine-spirit cultivator, he can’t possibly have—”
Wu Dao’an turned to shoot the man a cold glare.
“Commander Shen’s body-tempering is unrivaled, the foremost in all of Great Qian — that is the true path a divine-spirit cultivator ought to walk.” When it came to this, Yang Qianxiang found a strange stubbornness rising in him.
“…”
Silence fell across the courtyard, settling over more than a dozen divine spirits.
These were Great Qian’s most accomplished divine-spirit cultivators. And here was a Song Prefecture General — a lower-tier Martial Immortal — lecturing them on what the true path of a divine-spirit cultivator looked like.
More than a few divine spirits began rolling up their sleeves.
The rounder of the blue-robed Custodians stepped briskly into the room, shot Wu Dao’an a glare — was this really how the man taught a lesson?! What a hopeless display — and turned his attention to Yang Qianxiang. “You said just now that it was Commander Shen who cleared Song Prefecture of its demon troubles? And that he did it through… body-tempering methods?”
The reminder brought the others up short, and they began to come back to themselves.
Compared to the question of what the proper path of a divine-spirit cultivator was, the business in Song Prefecture was the thing that actually defied comprehension.
“Who says a Martial Immortal’s body is frail? Commander Shen needed no path infant — didn’t even call on the qi of heaven and earth — and killed a demon king with his bare fists alone.”
Yang Qianxiang swept his gaze around the room. He had seen it with his own eyes, and spoke with complete confidence.
Even these veterans of deep cultivation stood stunned for a moment, unable to bring the scene he was describing into focus.
Not just a human cultivator — even demons needed to draw on demon power. With bare fists alone?
“You cultivated body-tempering methods on top of everything else?!”
Wu Dao’an’s forced smile vanished instantly, replaced by something bordering on exasperated fury.
What a waste! What an absolute waste!
He’d already thought it was remarkable enough — perhaps unheard of — that Shen Yi had achieved the Martial Immortal realm at his age. He hadn’t imagined the man had been developing both his physical body and his divine spirit simultaneously?
What next — cultivating a path infant on top of all that?!
If that time had gone into the divine spirit, the man might already be ready to begin condensing a golden body by now.
“Of all the reckless things — lifespan isn’t something you can squander like this.” Wu Dao’an thumped his chest in frustration.
“But…”
Shen Yi let go of the jade token and held it out for the old man to see.
Wu Dao’an froze, then wheeled on the others. “What are you all still standing here for? You’re wasting his cultivation time!”
He turned back around, only to find Shen Yi staring at him in silence.
Wu Dao’an clicked his tongue and resigned himself. “Fine, I’m going too. Cultivate in peace. If you need anything, come find me, or help yourself from the armory.”
Everyone filed out of the room, and someone quietly pulled the door shut behind them on the way.
They hadn’t made it past the edge of the Jia section before Wu Dao’an finally stopped, looking back with a faint, distant expression. “People say the heavens are impartial — we’re all born into mortal flesh by the same parents. So how can there be a gap this large?”
What others spent their lives in agonized pursuit of seemed to present no barriers at all for that young man — and with room left over to learn other things on top of it, each of those equally exceptional.
“Senior Brother Wu shouldn’t blame himself.” The rounder Custodian offered, by way of comfort. “Don’t forget — our Great Qian has produced one cultivator like this before… Senior Brother Zhu condensed his inner core at twenty, reached Core-Nurturing and condensed a divine spirit at twenty-six, and began working on his golden body at forty.”
At the mention of that name, everyone fell quiet.
“And now he is three thousand nine hundred years old — still tending the Golden Body methods in the armory, mind half-gone, waiting out the days until his divine spirit finally scatters.”
“Junior Brother Shen would do well to learn from his example…”
(End of Chapter 231)