Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Forcing Down a Star

Afterward, Jiang Jing Yue helped Wang Jie mark out the boundaries of his mountain range.

It wasn’t large, but it was more than enough for him. Even a small section contained enough stars for him to cultivate Undying Body.

Before leaving, Jiang Jing Yue smiled. “I look forward to Junior Brother Lu clearing the fourth layer.”

Wang Jie returned her salute and watched her go.

Once a mountain range was assigned, it became a forbidden zone. No one could enter casually.

That meant Zen Mountain’s star map had to be updated.

Soon, disciples all over Zen Mountain received the notice.

“Hm? Who just claimed a mountain range?”

“Maybe an elder.”

“No. It’s the Zen Inheritor Disciple Lu Bu Qi.”

“Who’s that?”

“Apparently a lockforce cultivator who entered Zen Mountain with a Zen Token.”

“There’s someone like that? And he chose Zen Mountain instead of the Zen Hall?”

“And how does a lockforce cultivator even get a Zen Token…”

—

On a star in a canyon of Zen Mountain, Su Qing’s eyes were rimmed red as she knelt in a formal bow before a middle-aged man.

“That’s what happened,” she said, voice shaking. “I only wanted to swap residences with Lu Bu Qi. If he didn’t want to, he could have refused. Instead, he demanded my… my eyelashes. Such humiliation—I cannot endure it.

“I beg Senior Brother Situ to uphold justice.”

Several cultivators beside her fumed.

“Outrageous! Junior Sister, take us there. We’ll teach Lu Bu Qi a lesson.”

“Why would he want your eyelashes?”

“Doesn’t matter why. Those lashes are part of Junior Sister’s body—no different from hair. How could she give them away?”

“He was clearly taking liberties.”

“Or he’s trying to use them for some kind of curse?”

Senior Brother Situ raised a hand, silencing them. His expression was stern. “The Third Zen may act as it pleases, but that doesn’t mean we tolerate insulting fellow disciples. He must give an explanation. Junior Sister, don’t worry. As the number one of Zen Mountain’s inner sect, I’ll get justice for you.”

Su Qing bowed lower. “Thank you, Senior Brother Situ.”

A message pinged someone’s terminal. “Senior Brother—someone has claimed a mountain range.”

“Oh?” Senior Brother Situ asked. “Which elder?”

“It’s… wait. It’s Lu Bu Qi.”

Senior Brother Situ blinked. “What?”

“Lu Bu Qi.”

Su Qing’s face went white. She snatched out her terminal and pulled up the star map.

A new marker had appeared on the familiar map—an area circled and sealed, clearly labeled as owned territory. Any unauthorized entry would be punished by sect rules.

The group fell into stunned silence. Their earlier righteous fury evaporated as if it had never existed.

Su Qing’s hands trembled on the terminal. How?

Lu Bu Qi was only a lockforce cultivator. Yes, he’d been strong enough to overwhelm her, but claiming a mountain range… that was a different level entirely.

It meant attention from the Second Zen.

And to claim a mountain range, you either needed terrifying strength or an unshakable background. Either one was trouble.

“Ahem.” Senior Brother Situ cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “Junior Sister Su, I just remembered there’s a junior from my clan arriving for a trial today. I’ll have to excuse myself. Don’t worry—this matter will stay on my mind. I’ll get justice for you.”

“Junior Sister, I’m leaving too,” someone said quickly. “I need to go give a gift.”

“My cousin’s sweetheart’s neighbor is going on a blind date,” another said. “I should go… take a look.”

“Farewell…”

In moments, they were all gone.

Su Qing stood alone, staring at the star map, terminal clenched tight.

She felt hollow.

—

Wang Jie named his newly claimed mountain range Sunset-Glow Mountain Range.

From that day on, Zen Mountain in the Third Zen had one more mountain range—Sunset Glow.

Wang Jie patrolled his territory and found it lush and varied: forests and deserts, beasts and birds, mist hanging over lakes, stars circling the mountains like silent guardians.

A few disciples exited the range with dark expressions.

They’d been living there peacefully, but once the boundaries were drawn, they had to leave—unless Wang Jie permitted them to remain.

He didn’t.

Otherwise, what was the point of claiming a mountain range?

Sunset-Glow Mountain Range sat around the middle of Zen Mountain. It wasn’t especially prominent, but it was close to the harbor that connected to Outer Zen. Convenient for coming and going.

Within days, everyone living inside had cleared out.

Wang Jie chose a star tucked beneath a cliff and climbed down to it.

This star was much smaller than Blue Star, its climate brutal. No life existed here—only endless sandstorms that raked the surface.

He stood in the howling dust and took out a small piece of bone.

He’d pulled it from his own body. It had hurt like hell, but he didn’t have a better option. Once he found proper materials, he wouldn’t need to do it this way.

He drove the bone into the planet’s core with a palm strike.

Then he released his lockforce, letting it spread across the entire star.

A normal Full-Star Realm cultivator could cover an entire star with starforce or lockforce—after all, that was how they absorbed a star’s power. Wang Jie’s lockforce was even more abundant. Covering the star was effortless.

He sensed every inch of the world beneath his feet and began the true work.

Force down.

Forcing the star’s power toward the bone wasn’t simply a matter of brute pressure. Undying Body had its own method—its own rhythm and order. More precisely, it was the accumulated experience of those who had walked this path before him.

Otherwise, anyone could have thought of this idea, and Undying Body would have flooded the universe long ago.

The planet trembled.

As his lockforce pressed inward, the surface winds died as if a giant had snuffed them out. Silence fell. Lockforce seeped into the crust and drove starforce toward the bone at the core.

Time crawled.

Forcing down a star was difficult, but Wang Jie’s control of lockforce was strong enough that the starforce didn’t leak away like air from a punctured skin.

The closer starforce drew to the core, the stronger its outward pressure became. For Wang Jie, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that the planet was too small—its starforce too little.

If its starforce had matched his lockforce, forcing it all into the core would have been impossible.

He kept counting the days.

On the third day, the star’s accumulated starforce exploded from a single point, venting into space. The shockwave cracked part of the cliffside and sent debris spiraling outward.

Wang Jie sank down into the planet’s interior and retrieved the bone.

Its surface was worn and tempered, as if it had weathered centuries.

It worked.

The process of forcing the star’s power into the core was the process of grinding and refining the bone. Now the piece was twice as tough as when he’d cut it from his body.

This was Undying Body.

He pressed the bone back into himself. With a Full-Star Realm’s recovery, it fused seamlessly with the rest of his skeleton, as natural as healing from an injury.

No issues.

He let out a long breath.

Three days.

Too long.

The human body had 206 bones. Three days for one bone meant two full years to double his entire skeleton—and that was time spent doing nothing else.

Could he hire someone?

The thought surfaced, tempting for half a heartbeat—then died.

Hiring someone to force down stars wasn’t impossible, but very few could do it. Even if he taught them the method, they’d still need extraordinary control of starforce or lockforce—at least to the point where they could cultivate chen art.

Someone like that wouldn’t waste time being hired.

Materials.

He still needed materials that could fuse into bone.

He couldn’t keep pulling bones out of his own body and tempering them like this.

What about the bones in his skull?

That would get him killed.

And there was another limit: lockforce itself.

Forcing down a star consumed it. Without a way to replenish lockforce quickly, he couldn’t keep this method going.

He sat in the stillness and looked up.

Five meteors streaked across the night in a neat fan shape, flashing by and vanishing.

After a few days of rest, Nian Wei sent a message asking him to come to the Star Fusion Center.

Wang Jie planned to see her anyway.

If he couldn’t rely on a lockforce Star-Devourer in the Third Zen, then he’d have to seriously consider the approach she’d mentioned.

He left Sunset-Glow Mountain Range, headed to the harbor, and boarded a ship to Outer Zen.

When he arrived at the Star Fusion Center, Nian Wei met him alone.

“Why did you call me?” Wang Jie asked.

Nian Wei didn’t waste time. “Eldest Miss is here. She wants to see you.”

Wang Jie froze. “Who?”

“Eldest Miss.”

He stared at her, unease rising. “Which Eldest Miss?”

Nian Wei answered calmly. “Eldest Miss Ting Chen.”

Wang Jie’s heart sank.

Of all people.

Why was Ting Chen here?

If she discovered him, wouldn’t she lose her mind?

Then he forced himself to breathe.

He wasn’t Wang Jie right now. He was Lu Bu Qi.

Even a Star-Refining Realm expert couldn’t see through the Nine-Form Diagram. Ting Chen certainly couldn’t.

Nian Wei watched his shifting expression. “Do you have concerns?”

Wang Jie shook his head. “No. When do I see her?”

“Soon. She’s on her way.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Of course.”

Wang Jie nodded, then asked, “Earlier you mentioned Sea-Cliff Madam Miao has a lockforce Star-Devourer. Tell me more about Madam Miao.”

Nian Wei began to explain.

Before, she’d only talked about Madam Miao’s connections—enough to assure Wang Jie there wouldn’t be much backlash if he moved against her. But Wang Jie hadn’t known her methods, her strength, or what kind of cultivators she commanded.

As Nian Wei spoke, Wang Jie’s face grew darker and darker.

Madam Miao’s path was built on insects.

They replaced organs with insects to strengthen themselves.

It was similar in principle to Undying Body, but the thought of a body filled with insects made his skin crawl.

Worse, they raised those insects on people—feeding them human beings so the insects could “learn” what it felt like to live inside a body, preventing backlash.

The people used as feed… rarely died quickly.

To fully adapt a swarm to the human body, it would devour at least a thousand lives.

Their cultivation wasn’t merely cruel. It was built on consuming ordinary people.

And it was consumed in the most brutal way imaginable.

Nian Wei spoke evenly, but Wang Jie listened with nausea creeping up his throat.

She even showed him corpses of Madam Miao’s cultivators. After death, insects poured out of their bodies. Those insects would immediately seek nearby humans to burrow into, turning any unhandled corpse into a disaster for everyone around it.

“This kind of cultivation is vile,” Wang Jie said, voice low. “No one stops it?”

“Cultivation methods in the universe are as countless as stars,” Nian Wei replied. “There are plenty like this. No one interferes.

“As long as the people Madam Miao feeds to her insects don’t belong to other powers, no one cares.

“They don’t dare kidnap from elsewhere.

“They raise their own.”

Wang Jie’s gaze turned icy. “How is that any different from raising livestock?”

Nian Wei didn’t answer.