Chapter Fifteen: The Ninety-Ninefold Heavenly Tribulation

"Hey, Zhang Sanfeng, just where do you plan to undergo your tribulation? We've already traveled so far!" Tang Yi called out from behind Zhang Sanfeng.

"Young man, don't be so impatient. For something as significant as a tribulation, one must find a place of serene beauty, with mountains and rivers," Zhang Sanfeng replied without turning his head.

"Damn it, I've asked you dozens of times, and that's the only answer you have? Can't you say something else?" Tang Yi cursed.

"Of course. One must find a place of tranquil beauty for an ordeal such as this," Zhang Sanfeng responded obligingly.

"Damn..." Tang Yi was speechless. Well, at this point, there was no turning back, so he could only follow along.

...

"Hmm, not bad. The scenery here is lovely, a perfect place for a tribulation! This is the spot. Fellow Daoist Tang, you can observe from the side now. I'm going to begin my preparations," Zhang Sanfeng finally announced, having found a suitable location.

"This damned old man, it's just a tribulation. Did he really need to circle the whole planet? Annoying!" Tang Yi grumbled, but then he spread out a sand mat, set up a formation, took out a tea set, and began making tea. Lifting a cup, he fixed his eyes on Zhang Sanfeng in the distance, who was still arranging his preparations. Tang Yi wondered to himself, "How is this Zhang Sanfeng so meticulous? I've already brewed my tea, and he's still not done?"

After about two hours, Zhang Sanfeng finally ceased his actions and sat cross-legged. Several beams of light flashed around him as Tang Yi's formation activated. Within the array, Zhang Sanfeng's hair and sleeves fluttered despite the still air. He began to release his suppressed cultivation. Suddenly, his entire body was enveloped in a dazzling, seven-colored radiance, flowing in rings from the crown of his head downward, moving faster and faster until the naked eye could scarcely keep track. At that moment, Zhang Sanfeng looked like a giant, radiant Easter egg. After about ten minutes, the rainbow light faded, and though Zhang Sanfeng's appearance seemed unchanged, there was an unmistakable sense that he was no longer the same person.

At the same time, clouds began to gather above his head. The cluster of clouds expanded, and soon the rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. Time crawled by—a full hour, perhaps more—yet the tribulation had not begun. The cloud formation was a shifting array of iridescent hues. Zhang Sanfeng glanced up at the thunder-laden, multicolored clouds and couldn't help cursing inwardly: "What have I done to deserve this? Heaven, must you toy with me so? Clouds like these herald the Ninety-Ninefold Tribulation!"

In truth, Zhang Sanfeng had underestimated this tribulation. The scope of the calamity was enormous. Tang Yi had retreated ten miles away to a large earthen mound, where he set up a telescope to observe Zhang Sanfeng's ordeal. "What is going on? It's been almost an hour and a half, and the tribulation still hasn't started. Could this really be the legendary Ninety-Ninefold Tribulation? No, unless Zhang Sanfeng committed some terrible, unimaginable crime for the heavens to treat him this way."

The real reason was that Zhang Sanfeng had cultivated under harsh conditions, practicing the Taiji Yin-Yang Art—a method harnessing the two most fundamental, opposing forms of energy in the universe. By fusing yin and yang, energies that are absolutely contrary, into a single Taiji technique, his cultivation defied the natural order. At first, the effects might not have been obvious, but if Zhang Sanfeng succeeded in overcoming the tribulation, his cultivation would leap not one, but two major realms.

After two hours of mounting tension, the rainbow-hued clouds finally ceased expanding. With a deafening crash, a bolt of white celestial lightning burst forth, striking directly at Zhang Sanfeng, but was redirected into the earth by the formation. Though it was broad daylight, the arc of the lightning could be seen snaking through the curved formation and plunging underground. Strangely, the first set of nine thunderbolts struck in rapid succession, linking together as one. From Tang Yi's distant vantage, it looked like a single, enormous streak of white lightning shooting straight from the clouds into the earth through the array.

Seeing the first wave pass with such ease, Zhang Sanfeng exhaled in relief—unscathed, an auspicious beginning. The subsequent rounds of thunderbolts came in red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple. Not only did the colors differ, but with each successive round, the power doubled compared to the combined force of all previous rounds. The intervals between each set of nine bolts also grew longer. When the final purple bolt crashed down, there was a tremendous explosion—the defensive formation Tang Yi had crafted for Zhang Sanfeng was obliterated, destroyed alongside the thunderbolt.

"Damn, looks like this formation needs some work. There's still one round of thunder left, and it's already finished!" Tang Yi cursed as he watched the formation stones turn to dust.

Zhang Sanfeng rose at last, a sword appearing in his hand. It looked quite ordinary, just over a foot longer than a standard sword. Yet Zhang Sanfeng caressed it with his left hand as if it were a priceless treasure.

The first bolt of the ninth set descended—a black, head-thick lightning strike hurtling toward Zhang Sanfeng. He shouted, "Taiji Sword Technique—Flowing Cloud!" Drawing an arc with his sword, he let the tip meet the thunderbolt. With a sharp hiss, the lightning dissipated seven feet above his head. Still, beads of sweat instantly broke out across Zhang Sanfeng's face, pouring down in streams.

"Incredible—Zhang Sanfeng truly lives up to his name!" Tang Yi exclaimed from afar, slapping his knee in admiration.

Over ten minutes later, the second black thunderbolt descended. Zhang Sanfeng again wielded the Taiji Sword Technique, this time calling out "Transforming Wind." He drew a semicircle with the sword, and once again the tip met the lightning. With a resonant clang, the thunderbolt vanished, but Zhang Sanfeng's face turned pale. Before the third bolt could arrive, he sat down to regulate his breathing, finishing just in time for the next strike.

"Taiji Sword Technique—Clear Water!" Zhang Sanfeng swept his longsword in a wave-like pattern. This time, the sword itself did not touch the thunderbolt; instead, the energy guided the lightning into the ground. But Zhang Sanfeng suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. With no other choice, he produced a bottle—Tang Yi's gift—poured out a pill, and swallowed it.

Originally, Zhang Sanfeng had planned to sit and guide the medicinal energy, but to his surprise, the pill melted instantly in his mouth, transforming into spiritual energy. In truth, it was not ordinary spiritual energy, but a surge of Tang Yi's superhuman healing power, flowing through every part of his body and rapidly replenishing all his depleted energies. In just a dozen breaths, not only were his internal and external injuries healed, but his spiritual reserves were also greatly restored.

"This Tang Yi is truly a genius, to have refined such a miraculous restorative pill. Although he forcibly brought me onto his ship, I must admit, this debt is not small. But first, I must survive this tribulation—there will be time to repay him later." As he waited for the fourth thunderbolt, Zhang Sanfeng's thoughts turned inward.