Chapter 45
Chapter 45: Dragon Blood Body Tempering
Shao Heng sat upright on the meditation cushion, eyes closed, and ran the Clear-Heart Art again and again until the last ripples in her mind smoothed flat.
Only when her heart was steady and her thoughts were quiet did she open her eyes.
She reached out to soothe the anxious, fidgeting Duo Bao, then looked at the little White Dragon sprawled on the floor. He stared at the ceiling with empty, disbelieving eyes, as if silently asking the heavens why.
The ancient records claimed True Dragons were heavenly demons—proud, violent, untamable. Yet in front of absolute power, this one had still been forced into a Blood Pact with her.
Worse, within that pact, he was the one below.
So much for legends.
Shao Heng didn’t relax her guard. Death qi and the Blood Pact layered together were enough to keep him from daring anything reckless. She didn’t need to grind him down further. Relentless suppression only bred resentment; and with the ending already decided, there was no need to provoke more defiance.
She lay back on the cushion. Duo Bao obediently curled against her waist, letting her stroke the soft fur along his spine.
When she shifted, a dull ache still lingered in her body. The injuries Yin Liu had left her weren’t fully healed.
With wounds that severe, an ordinary mid-stage First Realm cultivator would need more than half a year to recover even with pills. Only because she carried the Azure Emperor’s divine powers had she been able to heal this quickly.
“That’s fine,” Shao Heng murmured. “If I temper my body with dragon blood while I’m still injured, the effect will be even better.”
She already had Companion Dragon Grass, dragon blood, and the Bone-Shedding Jade Fruit. On top of that, she’d gathered several other rare medicines along the way.
She couldn’t refine pills, but she understood herbs. She’d memorized hundreds of herbal compendiums, and in the past she’d learned enough rudimentary medicine to grasp the properties of most precious ingredients. Small accumulations became true change—especially when she knew exactly what she was doing.
She sat up and began sorting through her thoughts.
“When the Human Clan cultivates, spirit and flesh grow together. Tempering the body strengthens the soul and divine sense, too.”
“And in First Realm battles, a tougher body is an outright advantage.”
The Mystic Moon Secret Realm would open in about two months. Shao Heng intended to use every method available to sharpen her combat strength before then.
She went to the table, took out paper and brush, and wrote down the medicines she intended to use. She weighed their properties, adjusted proportions, and finally settled on seven supporting ingredients.
After that, she checked her stores again and counted her spirit stones.
Nearly 4,000.
Shao Heng clicked her tongue. “I’m not short on resources right now, but who ever complains about having too many spirit stones?”
Her gaze cooled.
“To guard against Jiang Yun Jiang, I haven’t dared use the Azure Emperor spiritual liquid to grow spirit rice lately. That’s a massive loss. I’m writing that debt down.”
She snorted, then finally turned her eyes toward the little White Dragon still playing dead.
“Come out with me,” she said lazily. “I’ll buy you Beast Spirit Pills.”
“Let’s go!”
The instant food was mentioned, the little dragon sprang upright as if resurrected. His eyes shone bright, and he put on the air of a magnanimous great dragon—one who would never stoop to holding grudges against petty mortals.
Shao Heng’s expression didn’t change. “Do you have a way to hide yourself? Or do you want everyone to know I signed a Blood Pact with a True Dragon?”
“Hmph!”
He shot into the air, looped around her right forearm, and in the blink of an eye melted into a dragon-pattern totem like a tattoo. When Shao Heng carefully sensed him, she couldn’t detect the slightest leak of dragon aura.
“True Dragons really do have tricks,” she said, giving him the smallest scrap of praise.
Then she looked down at Duo Bao. “Good Duo Bao. You stay home and watch the place this time.”
“Ying-ying.”
The little monkey answered twice, compliant as ever.
Shao Heng pushed open the door and stepped into the night. First, she’d go to the Law Enforcement Pavilion to exchange for contribution points. Then she’d head to the market to buy the rest of what she needed—medicines, talismans, supplies.
“As long as I clean up my traces, so what if Jiang Yun Jiang finds out I’m not short on spirit stones?” she thought as she walked.
“Every time I sold spirit rice, I used Gray Cocoon to conceal my aura and wore a veil hat. I even altered my clothes and build. If someone digs into it, I’ll say I got lucky on missions outside the sect. With sect rules in place, there’s only so much she can do.”
Her steps didn’t slow.
“Two more months. Then I enter the Mystic Moon Secret Realm. Six months inside. After that, the disciple tournament. If I place in the top ten and enter the inner sect… everything changes.”
Her blood ran hot with anticipation. She strode forward, eyes bright with resolve.
—
Winter wind howled. Night pressed thick and heavy, and dark clouds sagged low.
In the disciple courtyard, the sect’s isolation formation shrouded the area. From outside, Shao Heng’s room looked dim and indistinct; inside, lamplight burned bright.
A pale-purple circular compass hung near the ceiling. Crimson lines crisscrossed its surface in patterns that were both mysterious and precise. At this moment, it released a faint glow that spread across the entire room.
A low-tier Second Grade formation plate.
She’d bought it at the market for 430 spirit stones.
Formation plates were rare. Skilled array masters refined them from precious materials, carved formation patterns into them, and left them for owners to refine. Once bound, the owner needed only to nudge the plate with power.
Even without formation flags and other aids, a plate could still unleash over 70 percent of a full formation’s might.
The plate Shao Heng purchased contained the Golden Smoke Locking Cloud Formation. It could isolate sound and aura, distort what outsiders perceived, and if someone forced their way in, golden mist would surge out to confuse and trap them. Even divine sense probing would trigger warnings.
Now, under its protection, Shao Heng stood at the center of the room and tipped prepared ingredients into a large wooden tub.
She added Spirit Dragon Liquid first. Then the supporting medicines—Bone-Shedding Jade Fruit, Companion Dragon Grass, Bone-Washing Flower, Jade Poria, Three-Star Orchid Grass, and the rest—seven in total. As their medicinal power seeped out, the water gradually turned a pale, luminous blue.
Finally, she took out a white porcelain bottle and poured in the crimson dragon blood.
It hit the water like magma poured into a lake. Bubbling, boiling sounds rose at once, harsh and violent.
The moment the dragon blood mixed in, the spirit medicines dissolved rapidly, one after another, until the entire tub turned a deep purplish red.
“Hmph! That’s my father’s blood!”
Curled in the corner, the little White Dragon let out a furious roar. Even through his anger, there was grief—raw and unwilling—he couldn’t fully conceal.
Shao Heng stepped into the tub without hesitation. “I’m not the one who killed your father,” she said flatly. “If you want revenge, go settle accounts with Yin Liu.”
Her voice didn’t soften. “If you can’t get over it, I’ll leave a few drops for you as a keepsake.”
Then she glanced toward him, eyes calm and merciless. “Or is this the only place you dare vent? You won’t face Yin Liu, so you snarl at me instead.”
“You little cowardly dragon.”
The little dragon shook with indignation, but he didn’t dare lunge.
Shao Heng lowered herself into the tub, sat cross-legged, and ran the Origin-Nourishing Qi-Raising Art in full.
The instant her skin touched the medicine, pain detonated through her body. It was as if several steel knives were plunged into her flesh at once, carving their way inward. She gritted her teeth and endured, but within moments cold sweat beaded across her brow and ran down her temples.
Dragon blood was pure, but violently domineering. Only because she’d balanced it with precious medicines could she withstand it without her body bursting apart.
Time dragged. The purplish red slowly faded.
Inside her, tendons and bones that had once been broken—badly healed, imperfectly rejoined—were flooded with medicinal power. They softened, shed, and knit anew, becoming broader, tougher, denser. Each pulse of pain was followed by a cold, heavy strength settling deeper into her frame.
Most of the spirit qi carried by the herbs rode the dragon blood straight into her flesh. The remainder cycled through her meridians, condensing into drop after drop of pure power that flowed into the yellow sprout in her qi sea.
From the fierce battle in the Jian Xi Mountain Range against Zhu Wu Shuang to the relentless twists and turns on Dan Yang Mountain, Shao Heng had been fighting without pause. Combined with her usual diligence, her foundation was already solid. This time, she didn’t suppress the surge—she let her power rise furnace by furnace, fast and fierce.
When the water finally turned clear again, Shao Heng opened her eyes.
A slow smile curved her lips.
“Three hundred and fifty-three furnaces of power.”
She flexed her fingers. The movement felt different—quietly lethal.
“And this dragon blood really is terrifying. Together with the medicinal power, it nourished my body. Now, even if a mid-stage First Realm cultivator uses spells… if they aren’t refined enough, they probably can’t even break my skin.”