The story of struggling with the sky

3 The Yin-Yang God and Demon Mirror

“Under the scorching sun, life is so dull...”

At high noon, when the sun is at its fiercest, Fang Xing is lounging comfortably in a hammock in the grass shed, propping up his legs. In the distance, Wang Zhi and others are busy in the herb field. Some spiritual herbs need to have pests removed during the hottest part of the day because it's only then that their flowers will bloom on their own, allowing the bugs that have infested their stamens to be captured.

As the boss of the No. 3 spiritual field, Fang Xing, of course, does not have to do this laborious work. Ever since he stabbed Wang Zhi that night, he has become the master of this spiritual field, to the extent that even his daily stinky socks are washed and hung out to dry by someone else.

After idly sitting for a while and finding it dull, Fang Xing decided to perk up and flip through the "Qingyun Qi Refinement" manual once again. However, after a short time, he shook his head and closed the book. It was no use; he had already tried the cultivation methods described in the manual, but he couldn't feel any so-called spiritual energy at all. After trying three times, Fang Xing concluded that the contents were nothing but nonsense.

However, Fang Xing still couldn't bring himself to throw away this scripture. After all, he had heard from Wang Zhi and others that among the ten thousand disciples, there were indeed some who had cultivated the spiritual energy described in this book, and had even become outer disciples of Qingyun Mountain because of it.

Such people were rare, but every year there would be one or two rumors like this, so it couldn't be entirely false.

"Maybe I'm just not cut out for cultivation..."

Fang Xing shook his head helplessly, thinking to himself that the Daoist sect places great importance on innate talent, and there was a reason for that—talent really is important.

Having given up on further studying the "Qingyun Qi Refinement" chapter, Fang Xing took out the thin purple-covered booklet from his bundle. This booklet had been given to him by his Uncle Jiu, and it was the very book that had brought disaster to the Ghost Smoke Valley. On that fateful night, Xiao Jianming descended from the sky riding an iron eagle, wielding a cold flying sword, and cleanly eliminated the three hundred fierce bandits of Ghost Smoke Valley.

The only one who escaped was himself, this little bandit. Xiao Jianming had always thought that the tenth bandit who got away was just another burly man like the others; he probably never imagined that it was actually a ten-year-old child…

The thin purple-covered booklet had five ancient seal characters written on the cover. Fang Xing had learned ancient seal script from Uncle Jiu, so he recognized the five large characters: "Yin Yang Divine Demon Mirror."

However, when he opened it, he found it completely blank. Even when he held it up to the sunlight, it remained the same.

Thinking this way, Fang Xing placed the book on his lap, on top of the "Qingyun Qi Refinement" chapter. He sighed, feeling that he still had a long way to go, and almost no hope for revenge. Just then, he lowered his head slightly and was suddenly astonished to find that a line of faint writing had appeared on the "Yin Yang Divine Demon Mirror," as if it had materialized out of thin air.

"Qingyun Qi Refinement Chapter, Qi Condensation Realm cultivation method, refine essence into qi, can attain divine abilities..."

"What the hell...?"

Fang Xing sat up straight in shock, staring blankly at the words on the page. At that moment, the blank pages had revealed an introduction to the "Qingyun Qi Refinement" chapter. Although not detailed, it succinctly described the purpose and principles of the "Qingyun Qi Refinement," even pointing out some shortcomings of the cultivation method.

After a while, Fang Xing lifted the "Yin Yang Divine Demon Mirror," and sure enough, the writing quickly vanished. He placed it back down, and as it touched the "Qingyun Qi Refinement" chapter, the writing reappeared.

Fang Xing rummaged around in a panic and suddenly remembered the smoking flask he had placed in his pocket. His fourth uncle had told him that it was a precious item, capable of releasing a mist that most people couldn't resist, even strong enough to knock over a cow.

He set the flask down on a book, and after a while, faint characters began to appear:

"Magic tool, can store mist, not on the scale…"

Just these simple ten characters, and after waiting for a long time, no more appeared.

"Turns out it's a magic tool! It really is a good item. My fourth uncle is indeed the most reliable among my nine uncles, even if he's a bit strange…" Fang Xing mumbled to himself. He tried several other items back and forth, but nothing seemed to provoke a reaction from the book.

Fang Xing began to ponder the "Yin Yang God Demon Mirror" book again. The more he thought about it, the more intriguing it seemed. He speculated that the book must possess some kind of identification ability, but it didn't work on just anything. From his current experiments, it appeared to only respond to items related to the Taoist path or spirituality, such as cultivation techniques and magical tools with spiritual properties...

"Sigh, this is useless. Am I supposed to become a treasure appraiser?" Fang Xing thought for a moment and felt a bit disheartened. No matter how powerful this book was, it didn't seem to be very helpful for him!

Not far away, a cheerful voice echoed—Little Freckle and the Hanging Ghost had returned.

Little Freckle was holding several vibrant purple herbs, wearing a proud smile on his face. These were companion herbs found in the spirit herb fields, known as "Transformation Grass," also called "Treasure of the Chamber." It was a type of weed that needed to be removed upon discovery, as it held little value for cultivators. However, it was quite useful for ordinary people, as its effect was to transform blood into essence. Consuming it would lead one to become... robust and vigorous, a term you might be familiar with.

Because of this, ordinary folks welcomed this herb enthusiastically. Young apothecaries often collected it to sell.

"Transform blood into essence... refine essence into qi..."

"Hand that over to me..."

Little Freckle froze for a moment, then nervously passed the herbs over. Fang Xing snatched the Transformation Grass from Little Freckle's hands, hesitated for a second, and suddenly stuffed it into his mouth, taking big bites.

The taste was earthy and slightly bitter, but he didn't care. As he chewed, he could feel a warmth spreading through his body. The effects of the herb began to unfold, and he could almost sense his vitality surging.

"Let’s see if this really works..." Fang Xing thought to himself, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through him.