Li Yongyi gazed upon the fallen Nightgalloper spy, the corpse's unyielding stare frozen in death's grim embrace. His chest heaved, breaths ragged as if clawing air from a drowning abyss. Yue Qingfeng clapped his shoulder, voice steady yet grave: "Sit and meditate. My Crimson Dragon's true vigor has opened your meridians, leaving a spark of its essence. Yet this is borrowed strength, not your own."
"Fail to focus, and in days, it will slip away like mist before dawn."
"Harness your spirit, cycle the inner breath, and make it yours."
Li Yongyi nodded, stepping into the mountain shrine. He sat cross-legged, hands and feet aligned to the heavens, eyes closed, breath steadying. The warmth within surged like a river through his veins, banishing the chill of the night's rain. His spirit glowed, vitality coursing through him, as if bathed in the sun's embrace.
Yue rummaged through the spy's possessions, his eyes narrowing at a curious find.
Li Yongyi, deep in meditation, channeled his inner breath, its flow growing instinctive. His senses sharpened, and he felt the warmth falter at his heart, tinged with a chilling shadow, sluggish for moments before recovering. He knew it was the poison within—a breakthrough to sense its presence. Yet, the jade elixir within the bronze cauldron in his chest lingered at ninety-five percent, unmoving.
He mused silently: Is proximity to Yue Qingfeng and his Crimson Dragon not enough? Is there more?
After cycles of breath, Li Yongyi mastered the flow. Yue Qingfeng, sipping from his wineskin, spoke heartily: "Sharp wit! You grasped the Song of Array-Breaking in the time it takes an incense stick to burn. This is a soldier's art, scarce twenty years old, shared only among our ranks."
"Crafted by General Zhou, mentor to Marshal Yue, twenty-two years ago after crushing the Turkic Iron Pagoda. Passing through Jiangnan, he heard a girl of eight or nine play a zither, its notes sharp as shattering stone, and thus conceived this art, naming it the Song."
"Unlike common martial paths that temper the body before guiding breath, this Song draws breath inward first, forging the flesh with inner vigor—a loftier intent, though all paths converge."
Li Yongyi pressed: "Flesh and breath?"
Yue Qingfeng replied: "Aye. A strong body withstands blows; steady breath strikes foes. Be it outward-in or inward-out, the goal is to meld flesh and breath into true vigor—Ascension."
"Ascended warriors surpass mortals in speed, strength, and resilience. Yet schools differ—those swift may not outmatch the tempered flesh of lesser practitioners."
Yue Qingfeng asked abruptly: "But does an Ascended warrior always best one yet to Ascend?"
Li Yongyi pondered, then said: "Not always. If they're unarmed, clad in cloth, and I wield a blade to their vitals, I might slay them."
Yue chuckled: "With that short sword of yours?"
Li Yongyi paused, then said: "Two weapons."
"The other?"
The thirteen-year-old pointed to his tattered garb. "An Ascended warrior's disdain for a child like me."
Yue's smile faded, replaced by a glint of approval. "Well said. A tiger's might rivals an Ascended, yet hunters can fell it. Ascension's power, if careless, falls to cunning. With your sword and surprise, a fresh Ascended could perish."
"Godly weapons, armor, will, and mindset—all sway life and death."
Inspecting Li Yongyi's breathwork, Yue Qingfeng marveled: "Truly gifted." Yet he sighed inwardly—poison had corroded the boy's foundation, slowing his progress, dimming his potential. A pity.
Suppressing regret, Yue said: "The Array-Breaking Blade I taught is common in the army, but ours is refined—less intricate than sect arts, yet strict, swift, and potent."
"As for the Song, its first layer breaks in one to three months. Each layer takes longer, twelve in total. The gifted master it in three years; the able in eight. At completion, you may attempt Ascension."
Li sensed the consoling tone, guessing his foundation was ordinary. Undeterred, he focused on the cauldron's elixir, pondering if longer or stronger contact with Yue Qingfeng was needed.
Without hesitation, he bowed: "Disciple greets Master!"
Yue steadied him, laughing: "Clever lad, but no. My school demands a heavy foundation, too much for you."
Still, admiring the boy's spirit, he tossed him a bronze seal. "Your answer was sharp. Take this token. Infuse it with the Song's vigor, and I'll sense you. If you master the Song or face dire trouble, seek me with this to close our bond."
Li Yongyi heard the farewell, knowing without the seal, Yue Qingfeng was lost to him, and the cauldron's activation distant. Gazing at Yue and the Crimson Dragon, with the elixir at ninety-five percent, he ventured: "What lies beyond Ascension?"
Yue Qingfeng laughed: "Ambitious, eh? Ascension is like climbing a tower, floor by floor."
Seeing the boy's earnest gaze, knowing he might never pass the first or second tier, Yue softened. "Very well. You wish to glimpse Beyond the Heavens, Above the Towers? Behold."
Yue Qingfeng clenched his fist. The night's rain froze, droplets suspended like a misty veil. Li Yongyi's heart stuttered, weightless. Then, the droplets surged skyward. Yue spun, twisted, and struck—a blaze erupted from his knuckles, roaring like a crimson dragon. Mist turned to steam, the shrine, the hillside, and the pursuers' corpses crumbled to dust.
The sky cleared, moonlight spilled, and the Crimson Dragon coiled about Yue Qingfeng, godlike and dread. Li Yongyi, fists clenched, heart pounding, saw fire in his eyes. Yue Qianfeng tapped his head, the dragon vanished, and the cauldron's elixir reached completion.
**(End of Chapter)**