Chapter 178: Sweeping Six Directions
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“A regular Newly Awakened One standing here wouldn’t even see this small town,” remarked Wu Yao Zu, his mature features exuding calm wisdom.
Ahead lay a brightly lit, bustling town teeming with life. Yet, only those capable of out-of-body perception could witness it. For ordinary people, it remained as imperceptible as a “Yin Spirit” on a nightly wander, passing right by without leaving a trace.
All those present had arrived in their dreams; no one had physically come to this place. This alone hinted at the strange nature of the small town, cloaked in night fog.
“Shall we take a stroll inside?” Wu Yao Zu offered, uncharacteristically initiating the suggestion.
Though intrigued, Qin Ming refrained. He knew his current state well—his mastery of the Silk Script Sutra had merely suppressed his internal turmoil temporarily, addressing symptoms but not the root cause. To “spirit travel” would be precarious for him, unlike others. His Celestial Light Force would intertwine with his consciousness and accompany him into the town, an unstable fusion that risked uncontrolled explosions in such an enigmatic place.
Qin Ming shifted the subject. “Wu, have you found a shattered corpse nearby? There should be a radiant Five-Colored Treasure Bottle beside it.”
That Celestial Light Fluid still weighed heavily on his mind. If his physical condition weren’t compromised, he’d have searched for it long ago.
Wu Yao Zu shook his head. “I haven’t seen it yet. But I’ll help you look later.”
Night fell fully, with faint golden light radiating from the mysterious small town, lending it an air of sacredness. The bustling streets were alive with commerce and leisure, and the roads were frequented by all manner of beings. Yet, oddly enough, no one seemed able to peer into the courtyards scattered throughout the town.
Confident in the safety of the place, Wu Yao Zu left his physical body resting in a courtyard. A shimmering Rainbow Light emerged from his form and descended into the town as his spirit went to explore.
A young man with a vertical eye on his forehead approached. “Little Wu, that courtyard—could someone have moved in? The lights there are unusually bright.”
Soon, familiar faces greeted Wu Yao Zu, suggesting they’d all visited this dreamlike realm numerous times before.
From the night sky, a Moon Bug descended and transformed into a silver-armored youth. “This isn’t simple,” the youth mused. “Someone has moved their physical body into that courtyard and entered from the real world? Little Wu, introduce us to your friend.”
Another man, adorned with golden horns, joined the conversation with a laugh. “How about I arrange a gathering? Let’s invite two Divine Maidens and share some drinks. We’ll host it right here in town.”
Meanwhile, within the faintly golden courtyard, Qin Ming’s body emitted bursts of thunder and flames as he grappled with his inner affliction. He knew that if this problem weren’t resolved, he’d face a grim fate akin to those Ancestor-Level figures who’d practiced this technique—culminating in an inevitable, catastrophic explosion.
He contemplated two approaches. The first was to channel the Celestial Light Force, now tamed and subdued, into specific parts of his body, assigning attributes in harmony with his five organs. For instance, the heart, representing fire, aligned with the Separation Flame Sutra, while the lungs, tied to metal, resonated with the Golden Silkworm Force.
By carefully distributing each elemental force throughout his organs and tissues, Qin Ming hoped to harmonize them under the orchestration of the Silk Script Sutra, maximizing cohesion. If successful, his body would radiate various divine glows, potentially unlocking unknown synergistic powers.
This theory stemmed from the practices of the Ancestor Court of the Six Rulers Sect, where the contents of each Sutra page were experiments in combination and evolution. But this approach demanded an unparalleled precision of control. A single misstep could result in chaos, making the method highly perilous.
Moreover, such usage of the Silk Script Sutra felt wasteful. Its potential wasn’t limited to blending forces—it had far greater applications.
The second approach was much more aggressive: sweep through all techniques, obliterating obstacles, and achieving a unified force akin to Emperor Qin’s unification of writing and roads—total dominion through might.
However, this path required extraordinary aptitude. Qin Ming’s numerous attempts had yielded alarming results. Using the Worldly Fire True Skill Refinement, he found it burned not just the Celestial Light Force but his very being. The strain was excruciating, beyond what ordinary cultivators could endure.
To escalate, he considered introducing Thunderfire, merging it with his inner flames. This method mimicked the alchemical refinement of internal essences, a process akin to brewing an elixir from his own forces. But instead of relying on the Purple Core Thunderfire, he chose the Silk Script Sutra, which offered superior compatibility.
Drawing inspiration from the Fate-Altering Sutra, Qin Ming experimented with its methods for reshaping destiny within himself. Additionally, the techniques of the Overlord and insights from the Spiritual Field Boundary offered him ideas about leveraging external “momentum” to crush internal resistance.
Though far from the Spiritual Field Boundary, Qin Ming applied its principles within his body, using “momentum” to hammer the Celestial Light Force into submission.
The Sweep Six Directions strategy appeared viable, yet its flaw was glaring—only those with extraordinary natural talent could execute it. Failure meant not refining true power but reducing oneself to ash.
Qin Ming estimated that to endure such relentless refinement and unify all techniques, an initial potential value of at least 1,500 was necessary. According to the Ancestor Court, this fundamental value wasn’t measured in weight but as a potential score.
The average Aberrant had a starting value close to 1,000. Even prodigious Ancestor-Level figures, despite their experiences in spirit-nurturing places or consuming Dragon Blood, seldom exceeded 1,500 in their youth.
This revealed a significant flaw in the Silk Script Sutra—it demanded conditions few could meet, leaving most practitioners unable to overcome its inherent risks.
And even Qin Ming’s calculation of 1,500 was a conservative estimate, the bare minimum required for success.
Qin Ming’s face turned pale. Though his Initial Fundamental Value had surpassed the bare minimum, he understood that during this process, it might spike unpredictably to dangerous levels.
He was confident the Ancestor-Level Figures had studied this dilemma before. They likely abandoned solutions because their foundational values at the beginning were too weak to make their efforts worthwhile.
His thoughts immediately turned to the Silk Script Sutra stored within the Divine Temple. Perhaps he could follow the ideas of a prior master to lessen the toll on himself. But the Kindly Stone Statue Old Grandma warned him that venturing into that place was perilous. Unless he resolved his own flaws, entering the temple would mean certain death.
From her words, Qin Ming deduced that entering the temple wasn’t merely about his cultivation level—it demanded a flawless path, free of impurities.
This was a problem. Solving his issues required inspiration from the sutra, yet accessing the sutra demanded perfection in himself. It felt like an endless cycle.
Qin Ming had even hinted at whether the old grandma herself could enter and retrieve the texts for him. She shook her head solemnly, explaining that few could even approach the temple, herself included. The Master of the Divine Temple was simply too powerful.
The Ancestor who had once refined the Silk Script Sutra had been extraordinary. He debated philosophy with the temple’s master for three days and nights before retreating alive.
“In the end, it still comes down to my own strength,” Qin Ming murmured to himself. His resolve hardened. With his robust foundational values, he could attempt something bold.
“Even if I can’t sweep all six directions, I’ll combine approaches. Let’s take this gamble,” he decided.
Blazing firelight erupted as thunder roared. Qin Ming dove back into his internal struggles, aiming to resolve his flaws. Day and night blurred together as exhaustion crept in. His eyes turned bloodshot, and his spirit frayed. Each attempt stirred fierce resistance from the Celestial Light Force, which rebelled violently multiple times.
“This only makes me more determined,” Qin Ming resolved. “The root of this calamity must be eradicated.”
He immersed himself in a deep study, committing the Silk Script Sutra, Fate-Altering Sutra, Worldly Fire True Skill Refinement, and other techniques to memory. He studied them countless times, searching for clarity.
“The most intricate problems demand the simplest solutions,” he realized at last. Stripping away excessive precision, he embraced a straightforward approach.
Historically, the pioneers of the New Awakening Path had fought beasts, consuming rare herbs to mutate and heal their broken bodies.
“My Celestial Light Force is flawed, equating to a wounded body. I need to craft medicine to resolve this fatal issue.”
The Fate-Altering Sutra detailed methods for extracting essences from rare blood and herbs. Qin Ming planned to use his own Celestial Light Force as the primary ingredient.
For fire, there was no shortage. The Silk Script Sutra could generate windfire, thunderfire, and separation flame, while the Worldly Fire provided a constant source. Qin Ming began his work without hesitation.
Soon after, a muffled groan escaped him as the “medicine” within his body burned, nearly consuming him from the inside.
“If once isn’t enough, then I’ll try ten, a hundred, or even a thousand times!” he declared.
He hoped it wouldn’t take that long. Even with his formidable foundational values, such repeated failures could overwhelm him. If the Celestial Light Force ever surged beyond its peak, it would destroy him entirely.
After disappearing for five days, Wu Yao Zu returned to find Qin Ming’s courtyard in complete disarray. Qin Ming himself looked charred and battered, his body scorched in places. Even the courtyard walls bore signs of fire, and the garden was nearly destroyed.
A hen strutted nearby, its feathers newly regrown and radiant, clearly having been burned during the ordeal. It was no ordinary chicken.
“Are you refining medicine?” Wu Yao Zu asked, startled. He detected a faint fragrance—not through his nose but with his spiritual perception.
“Yes,” Qin Ming replied. As he spoke, his abdomen radiated a dazzling light, illuminating his entire body until he seemed almost transparent.
Wu Yao Zu stared in shock. Within Qin Ming’s abdomen, a perfect Divine Elixir rotated rapidly. Purple mist swirled around it, golden radiance intertwined with silver, and multicolored light shrouded it in an otherworldly glow.
The elixir spun faster, drawing in all of Qin Ming’s Celestial Light and essence. It consumed his spiritual insights and consciousness before suddenly shattering into a blinding light. The light formed a humanoid shape, resembling Qin Ming, before disintegrating into countless streams that infused his flesh.
This was the result of Qin Ming’s repeated experiments. Each time, the fusion would collapse, scattering the essence throughout his body. He had done this countless times, striving to unify the Celestial Light Force completely.
The process was perilous. The Worldly Fire scorched his body, thunderbolts bombarded him, and he narrowly avoided death on several occasions. He no longer wanted to recall the ordeal—it was pure torment, a fight for survival.
For him, this was the most primal form of medicine: forged within his body and consumed by his own flesh and blood.
The Kindly Stone Statue Old Grandma sensed the breakthrough and appeared in the courtyard, her Pure Yang Consciousness Aura leaving the stone statue. She gazed at him with astonishment.
“You’ve resolved your internal issues?” she asked, her expression a mix of curiosity and surprise.
“I believe so,” Qin Ming replied. “If I could study the refined sutra version crafted by that senior, I might even achieve greater heights.”
The old grandma was visibly amazed. “To merge Celestial Light Force into a single medicine that nourishes the body—this requires exceptional talent. That senior had a similar idea but believed no one could meet the requirements. Yet you’ve proven him wrong.”
She added that Qin Ming might now be ready to visit the edge of the town and attempt entry into the Divine Temple.
Wu Yao Zu grew excited. “The town is buzzing. Many influential figures want to meet you, and some are even planning a banquet to—uh, invite us for drinks.”
The old grandma scolded him immediately. “Do you even know who they are in reality? They’re no ordinary people. Keep your distance!”