I'm Not An Immortal (The Adventure of Jian Chou) - Chapter 32
Chapter 32
I’ve taken on a disciple who’s really good at bullying her elders!
Truly, none of the disciples I’ve ever taken in are any good!
This old man’s heart aches!
“Do you know what this is called?”
After a long while, Fudao Shanren finally calmed down.
He raised a chicken leg in his hand and took a bite.
Jian Chou had already stopped moving.
She glanced at the chicken leg and frowned.
“A chicken leg.”
“…”
This foolish disciple.
Fudao Shanren tore off all the meat from the chicken leg in one bite and casually tossed the bone onto the ground.
The smooth floor of Lanyue Hall rippled like water the moment the bone hit it, and the bone sank as if dropped into a pond, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Jian Chou stared blankly, blinking in surprise.
Elder Fudao didn’t explain. Rolling his eyes, he said, “Of course I wasn’t asking you about the chicken leg! Can’t you use your brain? Why would I ask you about something you already know?”
“Then why ask disciple about things I don’t know?”
Wouldn’t the answer still be that she didn’t know?
Jian Chou muttered under her breath.
“Pfft.”
Zheng Yao couldn’t help but laugh.
Fudao Shanren felt like his head was about to split open from frustration.
He stomped his feet a couple of times, but the expression on his face gradually shifted.
His gaze settled on Jian Chou.
Despite her delicate appearance, her aura was anything but fragile, more unrestrained than the average female cultivator.
For some reason, Fudao Shanren chuckled.
“Can’t be bothered to argue with you, you brat. In cultivation, there’s a special constitution known as the ‘Heavenly Void Body,’ which is similar to your situation. With it, one can manifest a battle disk anywhere at will. But I’m not sure if that’s what you have, so answer a few questions for your master.”
Heavenly Void Body?
Jian Chou blinked.
“Please ask, Master.”
“Can you really manifest it wherever you want, as you please?” Fudao Shanren posed the first question.
Jian Chou nodded.
“Yes.”
They had already tested this earlier, but Fudao Shanren wanted to confirm.
The wrinkles on his face bore the marks of time, but as he questioned her with his hands behind his back and his brows furrowed, he looked every bit the dignified elder.
“Earlier, you mentioned that cultivation felt unusually easy for you. When you were unblocking meridians and lighting up Kun lines, how did it feel?”
“For most of the early Kun lines, I followed the paths described in the jade slips from the Scripture Pavilion, so I succeeded on the first try. It was only when I had to deduce meridian positions based on the Kun lines on the battle disk that I often failed. But once I found the right spot, it usually worked.”
This was why Jian Chou felt her cultivation progress was too smooth.
Fudao Shanren’s frown deepened.
His previously relaxed expression vanished, and his eyes flickered as if he were recalling something.
Zheng Yao had been listening quietly but finally stepped forward.
“Uncle-master, is there something wrong with this?”
Wrong? Oh, it was very wrong.
Fudao Shanren shook his head but didn’t answer.
Instead, he asked Jian Chou, “What about the Dao Seal? Did you succeed on the first try?”
“Yes.”
Jian Chou was certain of this.
But she assumed it was pure luck.
She didn’t know what this Dao Seal truly was…only that its power was immense.
For a small Foundation Establishment cultivator like her to unleash such terrifying force, the seal itself must be extraordinarily profound.
Different meridian activation methods produced different effects.
Cultivators skilled in attack often researched how to deliver the strongest strikes with the least spiritual energy.
Jian Chou guessed this Dao Seal was something like that.
“Do you still have strength left?” Fudao Shanren asked again.
Strength?
Jian Chou thought for a moment.
“I still have strength, and spiritual energy too.”
Though she wasn’t sure which kind of “strength” Fudao Shanren meant.
Fudao Shanren glanced at Zheng Yao, then abruptly turned and dragged him aside by the collar.
“Move, don’t block the way.”
“Hey, hey! You can’t just— What are you doing? Uncle-master!”
Alright, he was put down.
Zheng Yao stopped shouting and gave Fudao Shanren a suspicious look.
Something seemed off about him.
“Uncle-master, have you been… overly traumatized?”
“Shut up.”
Two curt words.
Fudao Shanren’s expression was actually quite grim.
This time, it was so obvious that even Jian Chou noticed.
She rarely saw Fudao Shanren drop his cheerful facade—usually, he was either pretending or laughing like a mischievous old man.
A pang of worry struck her.
After hesitating for a moment, she asked, “Master, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. He was just in the way.”
Fudao Shanren shot Zheng Yao a sidelong glance, as if suddenly back to normal.
Casually clapping his hands, he said, “When I say ‘begin,’ try shifting to another position. This time, don’t use your legs;use your hands. Activate that Dao Seal.”
Use her hands to execute the Dao Seal?
Jian Chou was startled.
Before she could fully grasp his meaning, Fudao Shanren quickly retreated to the side and pointed to a spot not far in front of her.
It was the main entrance of the hall, but outside, there was no path—only the direction of the Yashan Cableway, the same place she had first arrived at, near the Thousand Cultivators’ Graves.
“Whatever you do, don’t aim inside. Face outward, hold back a little, and just see if it works.”
With that, he took two more steps back.
Was this really necessary…?
Jian Chou’s lips twitched.
Her master was being absurdly dramatic.
What threat could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator like her possibly pose to two mighty experts like them?
But she had long since grown accustomed to Fudao Shanren’s theatrics, so she didn’t dwell on it.
Turning around, she faced the hall’s entrance.
The sun blazed fiercely overhead, just past noon.
From where she stood, she couldn’t see the trees or flowers below, nor any distant peaks in view.
A perfect place to unleash a big move.
Too bad she wouldn’t get to see the results.
Not that she dared blast another hole in Yashan’s walls.
Recalling the arrangement of the Dao Seal’s patterns, Jian Chou thought of the four activation points she had chosen, both hands and both feet.
Most techniques originated from these positions.
Slowly, she raised her right hand and examined her palm.
At some point, the lines on her palm had grown faint.
Against her pale skin, the blue veins beneath were faintly visible.
The names of each acupoint mapped across her hand surfaced in her mind.
Seven Dao Seeds.
Seven acupoints.
Which combination should she try?
Jian Chou pondered.
Spiritual energy gathered at her ancestral acupoint between her brows, flowed past her shoulder’s Tianquan acupoint, down to the Shaohai acupoint in her arm, and coursed through her meridians…
At the same time, her arm lifted slowly, extending outward naturally.
The wind around them seemed to freeze in that instant.
A terrifying silence fell.
This time, it felt different from when she had used her legs.
Jian Chou felt a faint tension creeping in.
Fudao Shanren also sensed the anomaly.
With a flick of his hand, the cracked Wujian sword appeared in his grip.
“It’s fine. Continue.”
His words immediately eased Jian Chou’s nerves.
She steadied her mind, and the battle disc beneath her feet rotated in response to her will.
At this moment, streams of light gathered at a specific point on the disc, causing a Dao Seed to flicker alight before extinguishing and moving to the next position.
Jian Chou’s spiritual energy flowed through the acupoints, reaching the third one—
Jianshi, located on her forearm.
A sudden gust of wind rose…not from the outside, but from her battle disc.
The spinning disc stirred the condensed spiritual energy around her.
Jian Chou’s heartbeat quickened.
The energy continued its path through Daling, Shenmen, and Shaofu…until finally—
Zhongchong!
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through the tip of her right middle finger, while an arcane force guided her palm forward in a slow, deliberate push.
BOOM—
There had been no sound, yet everyone seemed to hear it.
Centered around Lanyue Hall, all the spiritual energy on the mountainside trembled as if summoned, surging toward her in a frenzy!
Countless streams of energy converged, forming a massive, ethereal silhouette…this time, a handprint!
Simultaneously, Jian Chou felt her battle disc spiral out of control—
Spinning wildly!
The light from her ancestral aperture between her brows blazed intensely, as if stardust were being forcibly drawn out, funneled into the disc and her palm!
“Girl—!”
Fudao Shanren sensed the impending disaster.
Alarmed, he lunged forward to intervene—
But it was already too late.
When she had executed this Dao Seal through her legs, Jian Chou had been able to regulate the flow of spiritual energy.
Now, however, the seal in her hand felt like a bottomless vortex, an abyss that devoured everything!
Her entire body burned with piercing agony—
Every shred of spiritual energy stored in her flesh and blood was being ripped out!
She couldn’t even answer Fudao Shanren.
The pain was unbearable, as if she were being flayed alive.
In desperation, Fudao Shanren took a step forward.
Wujian would be useless here…instead, he reached out with a claw-like gesture.
Behind him, the phantom of a giant eagle materialized.
A piercing screech echoed through Lanyue Hall!
The eagle spread its wings and lashed out with its talons—
Elder Fudao’s own hand mirrored the motion, lunging toward Jian Chou!
The colossal handprint before her had solidified, surging forward, finally breaking free from her palm!
In that instant, the abyssal vortex stopped.
The relentless absorption of energy ceased, receding from her.
But in its wake came crushing exhaustion and pain.
Jian Chou’s vision darkened.
A metallic tang filled her throat—blood gushed from her lips.
Fudao Shanren’s clawed strike, though delayed, barely managed to connect!
Beyond Lanyue Hall, on the mountainside, lay the Yashan Cableway.
Three figures emerged from the mountain path, stepping onto the cableway.
They soon crossed the Nine-Headed River’s tributary near Yashan, arriving at the high platform on the opposite shore.
“Put me down!”
Zhou Baozhu, carried on the back of another female cultivator from Jianzhu Sect, scowled the moment they crossed into Yashan’s territory.
The cultivator hurriedly lowered her and called out, “Senior Sister Zhou.”
Jiang Ling stood beside the female cultivator and also wanted to speak: “Zhou—”
“Slap!”
Zhou Baozhu, who had just steadied herself, didn’t even bother wiping the blood from her lips before raising her hand and striking Jiang Ling across the face!
The delicate, frail-looking girl was caught completely off guard.
The force of the slap sent her stumbling back several steps before she managed to steady herself. Dazed, she looked up in confusion.
“S-Senior Sister Zhou?”
Lifting a hand to her stinging cheek, Jiang Ling was utterly bewildered.
For cultivators, physical injuries like this were trivial at best.
But as the saying went—you can hit a person, but never their face! Cultivators were still human, after all.
Though Zhou Baozhu hadn’t drawn her sword, this single slap was ten, a hundred times more cutting than any blade!
Coldly eyeing Jiang Ling’s pitiful expression, Zhou Baozhu let out a derisive laugh.
“Who do you think you are? Did you really think you could take advantage of my injury, with that bitch from Yashan backing you, to step all over me and defy my orders? You ugly wretch!”
“Senior sister, I didn’t mean it like that…”
Jiang Ling tried to explain.
In that situation, no one would have believed Jian Chou had any goodwill toward them.
If all three of them had been crippled at Yashan, the loss would have been irreparable.
“Back then, we had no choice! To escape, we had to yield to Yashan! What if they flew into a rage and decided to settle accounts with Jianzhu Sect? With Yashan’s strength, we couldn’t possibly—”
“Shut your mouth!”
Zhou Baozhu gritted her teeth, stepping forward to grip Jiang Ling’s slender, pale chin with cruel amusement.
“Yashan? You think Yashan is untouchable? What the hell do you know?!”
“Senior Sister Zhou…”
Jiang Ling was at a complete loss.
She cast a pleading glance at the other female cultivator beside her—
Only to see the woman take a fearful step back, avoiding Zhou Baozhu’s wrath.
Zhou Baozhu was injured and had only recovered a fraction of her strength along the way.
If Jiang Ling resisted now, Zhou Baozhu would be no match for her.
But she didn’t dare.
In Jianzhu Sect, Zhou Baozhu’s status was second only to Xu Lan’er.
Who knew what awaited her if she offended Zhou Baozhu now?
Jiang Ling trembled, her voice choked with tears.
“At the Sword Drawing Platform, we truly had no choice! Senior Sister Zhou, I—”
“You?”
Zhou Baozhu sneered, her sharp nails digging into Jiang Ling’s skin, leaving faint bloody marks along her jaw.
Yet the sight seemed to delight her, and she showed no intention of relenting.
“What rank do you even hold in the sect? The only reason you were brought along was because you were obedient, yet you dared act on your own! Who gave you the right?! Master’s trusted disciples have always been me and Senior Sister Xu! You know nothing, yet you had the audacity to humiliate Jianzhu Sect in front of everyone. How impressive of you, Jiang Ling.”
Every word sent a chill through Jiang Ling’s heart.
She didn’t understand what she had done wrong.
“Senior sister Nie’s injuries…wasn’t Senior Sister Xu the one responsible in the first place? Master shielded her, inevitably angering Wuwang pavillion. And now, Senior sister Nie has formed ties with Senior Jian Chou. Who’s to say Yashan won’t back Wuwang Pavillion in the future? Senior sister, why must you risk yourself for Senior Sister Xu’s sake? We were the ones in the wrong!”
“Slap!”
Another ruthless strike landed.
Zhou Baozhu’s face twisted with vindictive satisfaction.
Watching Jiang Ling sway unsteadily, she seemed to regain some clarity.
“You think this way only because Yashan still stands as the pinnacle of the Central Region, with millennia of prestige behind it. But what if Yashan falls? What if it’s wiped from existence? Would you still say the same?”
Her eyes burned with a frenzied yet icy light.
“The Nineteen Continents have always bowed to strength. If Jianzhu Sect possessed Yashan’s power and influence right now, who would dare call us wrong?!”
Lowering her gaze, she saw Jiang Ling frozen in shock.
Now, Zhou Baozhu was in no hurry.
With a soft cough, she stood atop the high platform, her gaze piercing through the long cableway—fixing on the towering heights of Yashan in the distance.
The Thousand Cultivators’ Graves lay quietly on the broad riverbank, their edges occasionally submerged by the rising tide.
This trip hadn’t been entirely fruitless.
Yashan’s Jian Chou?
Hah.
Zhou Baozhu turned away without so much as a glance at Jiang Ling. “Once we return, Master will deal with you properly. Let’s go!”
Jiang Ling stood frozen, her entire body chilled to the bone.
She didn’t understand—where did Xu Lan’er get the audacity to provoke Nie Xiaowan, who was clearly under Yashan’s protection? Why had Master sent someone as vicious as Zhou Baozhu to deliver an apology to Yashan? And most of all…
Where did Zhou Baozhu’s confidence come from?
The other female cultivator cast Jiang Ling a pitying look but quickly hurried after Zhou Baozhu.
Across the vast lands of the Nineteen Continents, emerald mountains stretched endlessly beneath drifting clouds.
Below the high platform, the ancient Nine-Headed River flowed ceaselessly.
On the long cableway, a figure gradually emerged after the three from Jianzhu Sect had left.
Clad in a deep gray robe, one hand behind his back and the other resting lightly in front, the wind tugged at his sleeves but couldn’t stir his thoughts.
Qu Zhengfeng had been standing there for some time.
At Jian Chou’s request, concerned that Jiang Ling might face trouble after leaving Yashan, he had followed discreetly to observe.
Yet he hadn’t expected to witness such a scene or hear such strange words.
Given Zhou Baozhu’s demeanor, Jiang Ling’s immediate safety wasn’t in question.
But once they returned to Jianzhu Sect… that was another matter.
And that was beyond Qu Zhengfeng’s reach.
He pondered for a moment, a trace of confusion in his eyes, before finally withdrawing his gaze from the distance.
Now, he stood at the very center of Yashan’s cableway, the roaring river surging beneath his feet, endless and untiring.
Sunlight scattered like shattered gold across the rippling water.
Qu Zhengfeng turned his head slightly, taking in the view of the Thousand Cultivators’ Graves on the opposite shore, the withered grass stretching in patches.
His steps were slow, carrying an inexplicable weight.
Just as he was about to reach the end of the cableway, his footsteps halted abruptly.
Lifting his gaze, he saw Shen Jiu standing at the entrance of Yashan’s path, clad in pristine white robes.
“What brings you here?”
Qu Zhengfeng’s voice was calm.
Shen Jiu wore his usual carefree grin as he sauntered forward.
“Oh, nothing much. Just found something interesting in my room and thought I’d have a little chat with you, Second Brother.”
Qu Zhengfeng remained silent.
Shen Jiu smirked and raised his hand, revealing the object he held—
A white jade bowl, smooth and translucent, its surface glowing softly under the sunlight.
“Tsk, tsk. Who would’ve thought?”
Shen Jiu shook his head in mock admiration.
“Here I was, thinking myself clever, only to realize I was being played by you all along. Impressive, truly impressive. I almost went to Senior Sister Jian Chou to demand the Skyfire Lamp back… only to realize it had never left my room in the first place!”
Finally, Qu Zhengfeng smiled.
“So you’ve figured it out?”
“A bit late, don’t you think?”
Shen Jiu gave the small bowl a disdainful glance before tucking it into his sleeve.
He stepped forward, slinging an arm around Qu Zhengfeng’s shoulders with a sly grin.
“But really, Second Brother, you’re too stubborn! If you wanted to spar, you could’ve just said so! I know you’ve never been one for sword-drawing, but… breaking the rules once in a while isn’t so bad, is it? Was all this scheming really necessary just to make me challenge you?”
“……”
Qu Zhengfeng didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, he reached up and brushed Shen Jiu’s arm off with deliberate indifference.
His long, narrow eyes remained composed, his demeanor unshaken.
“I didn’t scheme to make you draw your sword. I simply find you… tiresome.”
Shen Jiu froze, staring at his own rejected hand before slowly lifting his gaze to Qu Zhengfeng’s face.
Qu Zhengfeng’s expression was unreadable…impossible to tell if those words were truth or taunt.
“Second Brother, you—”
Before Shen Jiu could finish, Qu Zhengfeng lowered his eyelids and walked past him without another word.
This time, Shen Jiu finally snapped.
He whirled around, glaring at Qu Zhengfeng’s retreating back.
“You—stop right there!”
Qu Zhengfeng paused but only for a second before continuing forward.
Shen Jiu gritted his teeth, a surge of frustration and fury boiling in his chest.
This Second Senior Brother was originally their First Senior Brother, a man who had always kept his depths hidden, often described by others as “deceptively cunning beneath the surface.”
But Shen Jiu had always believed him to be meticulous and thoughtful, capable of considering angles others couldn’t even fathom—a rare pillar of stability among their brothers.
At the same time, Qu Zhengfeng was also the earliest disciple Fudao Shanren had ever taken in.
Shen Jiu had only been Fudao Shanren’s disciple for 350 years, and for 300 of those years, Fudao Shanren hadn’t even been present.
But according to Third Senior Brother Kou Qianzhi, Qu Zhengfeng had been Elder Fudao’s disciple for over 680 years.
He wasn’t the most innately talented among them, yet he was now the strongest in cultivation, even approaching Fudao Shanren’s own level.
Shen Jiu had always thought him reliable, if a little distant—never quite joining in the usual banter like the others.
But never in his wildest dreams had he expected…
His goodwill would be repaid with such a venomous word from Qu Zhengfeng: “I find you tiresome.”
Qu Zhengfeng had been stuck at the peak of the Nascent Soul stage for a long time.
Breaking through to the Soul Formation realm was no simple feat, and Shen Jiu had assumed he needed battle to find that breakthrough.
But now…
It seemed he had been wrong.
Watching Qu Zhengfeng’s retreating figure grow smaller, Shen Jiu’s emotions churned violently.
Unable to hold back any longer, he finally shouted:
“Fine, hate me if you want! But answer me this…do you dislike Senior Sister Jian Chou too?!”
The moment the words left his mouth, Shen Jiu himself froze.
Ahead, Qu Zhengfeng…who had been walking away without pause, finally stopped.
He turned his head slowly, casting a glance back at Shen Jiu.
A faint, chilling smile curled at his lips as he replied:
“Believe whatever you wish.”
With that, he summoned a dark blue sword light beneath his feet and soared into the sky, leaving Shen Jiu behind.
Why had he blurted out such a question?
Shen Jiu suddenly wanted to slap himself.
And yet…
After asking it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t entirely wrong.
The contradiction tore at him, leaving him frustrated beyond measure.
BOOM—
A sudden, overwhelming pressure erupted from the direction of Lanyue Hall, snapping Shen Jiu’s attention upward.
A colossal palm imprint surged forward, followed by a clawed strike that tried and failed to fully intercept it.
The force shattered a corner of Lanyue Hall’s glazed eaves, sending tiles crashing down.
The palm imprint plowed through the clouds, vanishing into the distance.
This scene… it was all too familiar.
Shen Jiu’s hair stood on end…this had to involve Jian Chou!
And that clawed strike?
If he wasn’t mistaken, it was a move from Fudao Shanren’s “Mountain Eagle Spreads Its Wings.”
Had something gone wrong?
After only a brief hesitation, Shen Jiu shot into the air like an arrow, streaking toward Lanyue Hall!
This time, he entered through the main entrance, landing on the front platform.
His eyes swept the hall’s interior—
The ground was spotless, but a faint trace of blood lingered in the air.
The bronze sparrow lamps stood tall, flames roaring within their vessels.
Lanyue Hall looked as ordinary as ever…nothing seemed amiss.
And yet…
Shen Jiu remembered clearly: that earlier strike couldn’t have been an illusion.
Senior Sister Jian Chou and Fudao Shanren must have been here just moments ago.
He recalled Jian Chou being summoned inside earlier by Fudao Shanren and the Sect Leader, likely for some discussion.
Logically, there should have been three people here.
But now, the hall was empty.
Shen Jiu stepped in slowly, scanning the vast chamber.
Finally, his gaze settled on the polished floor beneath his feet.
“Could they have gone… there?”
