Chapter Sixty-Seven: Arranging the Training

After forcibly breaking through, Wang Changsheng was left completely bewildered.

After reaching the ninth level of the Open Vein stage, the next realm should have been Essence Transformation. Wang Changsheng was certain he had succeeded in his forceful breakthrough, yet he felt no trace of true essence within him; only his accumulated vital energy seemed denser and more robust.

He even began to doubt himself—had he actually failed to break through?

“Or perhaps…I never truly reached the ninth level of the Open Vein stage?” Wang Changsheng murmured thoughtfully.

He’d just endured the agony of shattered meridians and struggled through a breakthrough, yet he still couldn’t sense the emergence of true essence. What he could be sure of was that he definitely hadn’t reached the Essence Transformation stage, but as for what level he was at now, even Wang Changsheng himself couldn’t tell.

“Vital energy still flows smoothly through my body—looks like I’m still in the Open Vein stage…” he muttered under his breath.

“Steward Wang!”

Just as Wang Changsheng sank deeper in thought, a voice called out to him from outside.

“Who’s there!” he snapped irritably.

He was right in the midst of pondering the mysteries of breakthrough—who knows, he might have unraveled the secret and ascended to Essence Transformation right then, if not for this interruption. Whoever bothered him now clearly had a death wish.

The voice hadn’t sounded in his mind, but entered through his ears—meaning the caller was just outside the small courtyard.

He opened the door and immediately saw a cultivator standing outside.

Wang Changsheng recognized him—though he couldn’t recall the man’s name, he was certain this was a disciple of the Corpse Refinement Sect.

“Disciple Chen Shangyi pays respects to Steward Wang!”

“Well? What do you want?” Wang Changsheng replied, his tone impatient.

Seeing Wang Changsheng’s clear displeasure, Chen Shangyi was momentarily taken aback, then forced a smile. “Steward Wang, don’t let appearances deceive you.”

“What do you mean by appearances?” Wang Changsheng asked, confused.

Chen Shangyi offered a mysterious, enigmatic smile. “I cannot say, I cannot say.”

Wang Changsheng frowned, deep in thought.

“So, why did you come looking for me?” he asked again, still puzzled by Chen Shangyi’s cryptic words.

“Elder Yun sent me to inform you that in one month, the first group of Corpse Refinement Sect disciples will depart for training outside. You are to prepare yourself,” Chen Shangyi replied.

“Come in and speak,” Wang Changsheng said, gesturing to the stone table in the courtyard.

“Oh, no, no,” Chen Shangyi declined at once. “I’m only here to deliver Elder Yun’s message. Please prepare accordingly.”

Wang Changsheng nodded.

Seeing this, Chen Shangyi quickly turned and left.

“It’s not as if there’s some man-eating demon in this courtyard…” Wang Changsheng muttered darkly as he watched Chen Shangyi hastily retreat.

Ever since Wang Changsheng had arrived at the servants’ quarters—apart from Elder Mou’s disappearance and Elder Zhang’s brief visit—no one else had ever set foot in this courtyard. Even Little Grey, who twice delivered Wang Changsheng here, had never dared come close.

For Chen Shangyi to make it to the gate was already a display of courage.

Wang Changsheng understood why others kept their distance: because of Elder Mou.

Elder Mou had only acted twice: the first time, he had smacked a Corpse Refinement Sect elder to death; the second, he’d shattered Elder Zhang’s refined corpse, leaving only a coffin lid behind. Such feats had made Elder Mou a veritable demon king in the eyes of the sect’s disciples.

Thus, this little courtyard in the servants’ quarters had become forbidden ground for the Corpse Refinement Sect.

But as for Chen Shangyi’s earlier cryptic words, Wang Changsheng remained perplexed.

“Maybe I was too conspicuous…” he muttered.

He recalled his actions atop the mountain—he had indeed drawn some attention, but that was only because Elder Zhang had pushed him too far. Had Elder Zhang not targeted him so aggressively, none of that would have happened.

Hadn’t Elder Yun even looked on with approval?

Shaking his head, Wang Changsheng set off toward the Corpse Refinement Sect.

He intended to seek out Elder Yun.

Since the sect had arranged for disciples to venture out and train under his leadership, there must be a larger plan at work—otherwise, letting them wander aimlessly would serve no purpose.

When Wang Changsheng found Elder Yun, it happened that Elder Yun was also looking for him.

Elder Yun’s cultivation abode was not in any building, but a cave residence he had carved for himself, surrounded by a dense array of formations.

“These formations are incredibly powerful—even in the cultivation world. If I get the chance, I should study them thoroughly,” Wang Changsheng mused.

“Interested in formations?” Elder Yun chuckled at his words. “I’m afraid that will be impossible for you.”

“Why?” Wang Changsheng asked, puzzled. “Are formation techniques truly so difficult?”

“Extremely,” Elder Yun replied gravely. “They’re at least ten times more challenging than cultivating itself.”

“Mastering formations isn’t just about years of cultivation—it demands exceptional insight,” Elder Yun elaborated. “Among the entire Corpse Refinement Sect, only the Grand Elder is proficient in formations; all these arrays were laid by him.”

“Otherwise, despite not being the most powerful, why do you think the Grand Elder holds his position?”

“Formation masters are exceedingly rare in the cultivation world—far beyond your imagination.”

“Is it really that hard?” Wang Changsheng questioned, surprised.

He’d originally thought he could study formations in his spare time and maybe become a master himself. But now, hearing Elder Yun’s words, he realized the difficulty was far greater than he had imagined.

What’s more, since only the Grand Elder in the entire sect understood formations, and he likely wouldn’t teach Wang Changsheng, it seemed a distant hope.

“Steward Wang, even with all the resources you’ve been given, you’re still only at the Open Vein stage. That proves your aptitude is rather ordinary…” Elder Yun said. “I fear you haven’t time enough for your own cultivation, let alone mastering formation arts.”

“Did you have to be so blunt…” Wang Changsheng replied, helpless.

With that, Elder Yun opened his formation and led Wang Changsheng into the cave abode.

Upon entering, Wang Changsheng immediately saw a coffin placed at the center—Elder Yun’s personal artifact. He’d seen it before, during the confrontation with Elder Mou atop the mountain.

At the same time, a chilling aura swept over him. Only after circulating his vital energy did he feel some relief.

“Sit wherever you wish,” Elder Yun offered.

Wang Changsheng was speechless.

Aside from the coffin, the cave was utterly bare—where was he supposed to sit?

So he remained standing. “Elder Yun, I heard from Chen Shangyi that the sect will soon send out a group of disciples for training?”

“Indeed,” Elder Yun confirmed. “That’s why I wanted to see you.”

“Oh?” Wang Changsheng prompted. “What sort of plans or arrangements does Elder Yun have in mind?”

He saw Elder Yun fall into thought—just as he’d expected.

This first foray of Corpse Refinement Sect disciples into the cultivation world was bound to be anything but simple.

“In the past, our sect’s reputation in the cultivation world was…less than stellar,” Elder Yun said gravely.

“I know,” Wang Changsheng replied.

Less than stellar was an understatement—the Corpse Refinement Sect had been hated and hunted wherever its disciples appeared. Their notoriety was such that even calling them street rats was generous; other cultivators would unite to destroy them on sight.

“That’s the consequence of our sect’s techniques,” Elder Yun continued.

Wang Changsheng remained silent, waiting for him to explain further.

“This time, our emergence is meant to break that deadlock,” Elder Yun stated. “With our former reputation, survival in the cultivation world was nearly impossible. Worse, we couldn’t recruit new disciples—without fresh blood, and with our own members constantly dying, we had no choice but to hide away.”

“This time, we intend to take in new disciples,” Elder Yun said.

“What?” Wang Changsheng blurted in disbelief. “Elder Yun, isn’t that wishful thinking?”

He shook his head, resigned. “Given our techniques, it’s nearly impossible to recruit new members. I’m not even sure we’ll survive this expedition, let alone bring new disciples back…”

It seemed utterly fantastical.

To Wang Changsheng, the elders of the Corpse Refinement Sect were deluding themselves—surviving was already a struggle, and they dreamed of expanding their ranks?

“This time, the sect will make a change,” Elder Yun said solemnly. “Any disciple who enters our gates and is unwilling to practice our core techniques may choose to cultivate other arts instead…”

“Our sect has never lacked for techniques,” he went on.

Indeed, over the years, the Corpse Refinement Sect had captured countless disciples from other sects and amassed a trove of techniques. But could those be used so freely? Many were the core arts of rival sects—if the Corpse Refinement Sect openly taught them, wouldn’t that invite disaster?

Wang Changsheng was doubtful but kept his thoughts to himself. If the sect dared take such a risk, they must have some confidence—otherwise, it would be suicide.

“So, our only goal in this expedition is to restore the sect’s reputation?” Wang Changsheng asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Elder Yun nodded. “But that’s not all.”

“There are several sects you’ll need to visit,” Elder Yun said, his expression growing grave.

“Which sects?” Wang Changsheng pressed.

Was it really just a courtesy call? Elder Yun’s look suggested otherwise.

Or perhaps these sects were…special in some way?

Any sect the Corpse Refinement Sect specifically wanted to visit was surely no ordinary one.

“Cloud Palace Peak,” Elder Yun pronounced. “You must visit Cloud Palace Peak.”