Chapter 239: Filling the Vat

The entire cultivation world of Qingjiang Prefecture had heard the tale of how Second Young Master Fang enlightened someone with a single phrase at Leshui Sect, helping them break through the Condensed Radiance Realm. This rumor, more legendary than his carving words on stone walls, or Plucking Flowers as Swords at Yun Huan Sect, or defeating Light Condensation cultivators with three divine techniques at Lingwu Sect, bordered on the mythical. Precisely because it sounded so unbelievable, few truly believed it. After all, Second Young Master Fang was merely in the Foundation Establishment stage. That he could defeat others in Light Condensation was just barely plausible. But guiding someone to a realm he himself hadn’t achieved? That was simply…

This disbelief, however, transformed into shock at that moment.

A thousand thoughts condensed into one expression:

“Holy crap!”

…

“Elder Xue Zhizheng, I came today for revenge…”

As Yu Qingli spoke these words, he took a slow step forward. The spiritual energy around him surged like roaring dragons. Crude and chaotic at first, it suddenly stabilized into a profound, marvelous state. It was like a flower blooming in the desert, a ray of light piercing the darkness. The change was subtle, yet it instantaneously altered the very essence of the battlefield.

“Whoosh!”

He abruptly stepped forward, raising his hand to form the Divine Prison Seal with immense force.

His magical power coalesced and transformed into what seemed an artifact forged in hell itself, viciously crashing down towards his opponent.

“This little cur… How is this possible?!”

Elder Xue Zhizheng’s gaze turned icy cold as a furious roar echoed internally.

He hadn’t expected Yu Qingli to publicly repeat the private insults Xue had thrown at him earlier. Such a proud man, how could he willingly expose how he was once humiliated? How could he let others know that as a child, he lacked backbone, kneeling before Xue, begging pathetically, even standing by as Xue took his sister by force?

Yet, he had stated it plainly, openly.

Many cultivators who heard it were now re-evaluating Xue.

Feigning helplessness with a weary sigh on the surface, Xue channelled all his cultivation power, surging forward to meet Yu Qingli’s attack head-on.

Even if Yu Qingli was breaking through, Xue thought, his own cultivation was far superior; he should easily crush him.

Before this thought fully formed, Xue’s face twisted in sudden shock. Yu Qingli’s Magical Power was terrifyingly potent, far excelling what he anticipated. Staggering back, Xue desperately waved his sleeves. Treacherous streaks of icy light shot low across the ground, aiming for Yu Qingli’s vital meridians and acupuncture points. These sinister, vicious techniques stood in stark contrast to the righteous persona he’d presented earlier.

Yet, Yu Qingli didn’t dodge. His Divine Prison Seal simply spun, effortlessly shattering the approaching yuan qi. Undeterred, the pressure intensified as he pressed the attack with even greater ferocity.

Xue Zhizheng’s face turned deathly pale. “Impossible!”

…

“Truly, Yu Qingli is Yu Qingli…”

Observing the transformation from a distance, a faint sense of satisfaction stirred within Fang Cun.

Countless bewildered gazes fell upon him, yet he focused solely on consolidating his insights gained from this spectacle.

He had always understood where Yu Qingli’s burden lay, the root of his struggle…

When Xue Zhizheng had seized his sister all those years ago, Yu Qingli, only seven years old, had knelt before him, begging for mercy – too terrified to fight back. Any reasonable person would understand; a child’s fear was expected, far from shameful. Yet, Yu Qingli buried that memory deep within his soul, allowing it to fester into a crippling demon that constantly tormented him, eating away at his spirit.

Others might reassure him it was normal.

But such empty comfort was useless.

The shame was ingrained within him; simple words couldn’t cleanse it away.

So Fang Cun never offered easy platitudes. Instead, he forced Yu Qingli to confront that past head-on and demanded proof of his current strength.

The effect was dramatic, undeniable!

If this approach worked for Yu Qingli… what about the others?

Fang Cun’s gaze swept over He Zhenzhang, Meng Qing’er, and finally rested on Meng Zhixue. A profound realization dawned, solving a knot within himself that had tangled for far too long.

…

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The battle between Yu Qingli and Xue Zhizheng intensified explosively. Compared to their earlier exchange, it seemed two entirely different cultivators now clashed. Yu Qingli pressed relentlessly, each technique manifesting with devastating precision. His Magical Power wasn’t flagging; it surged higher and higher. Every attack carried immense force, as if towering mountains were tumbling down, a malevolent prison re-opening upon the world, a demon god descending to execute its judgment with a sword of retribution.

Under such crushing pressure, Xue Zhizheng was overwhelmed. His desperation showed in his increasingly vile and treacherous techniques, now deployed without a shred of restraint.

“Three-Yin Needles! How ruthless…”

“Five Ghost Soul-Devouring Technique! An Elder of Lingwu Sect knows such sinister arts?”

“He’s no longer an Elder of Lingwu Sect!”

“Without seeing it myself, I’d never believe beneath that handsome face lurked such deep corruption!”

“The earlier indictment Lingwu Sect issued against him must be true! Shameful, we nearly believed his act!”

The surrounding cultivators watched in shared outrage, their shock turning to furious condemnation with each despicable display.

Xue Zhizheng inwardly cursed his luck. He saw Yu Qingli’s power purifying, his momentum becoming unstoppable. It felt as if Yu Qingli was using him, this battle, to temper and consolidate his new realm! Worse, the torturous punishments Xue endured in Lingwu Sect’s prison had scarred his meridians and eroded his cultivation. Those internal injuries screamed now; he genuinely felt he couldn’t hold on much longer.

If he couldn’t hold on now, what hope remained once Yu Qingli had stabilized his new-found strength?

Without hesitation, knowing his facade was shattered anyway, Xue’s eyes flickered with poisonous cunning. Exploiting a momentary gap in Yu Qingli’s onslaught, he spun violently away. Like a shot Flying Sword, he streaked towards Yu Qingli’s sister standing on a nearby slope. As he flew, his sleeves whipped out, discharging three streams of intangible, deadly energy aimed directly at her defenseless heart!

“Scum!”

Seeing this, pure fury radiated from Yu Qingli as he desperately lunged forward.

Xue Zhizheng, however, twisted back mid-motion, his face contorting with venom. He rapidly formed sacred hand seals and bellowed, “Manifestation: Netherworld God Palace!”

WHOOSH!

Instantly, his visible life-energy visibly drained away, merging explosively with his Magical Power. From thin air, a vast, hazy domain erupted, dominated by the silhouette of a bizarre, menacing palace. This manifestation materialized precisely on the path Yu Qingli needed to take to reach his sister. Honing intent on her rescue, he would have to charge directly into the heart of the deadly palace construct.

“Forbidden Technique!”

“He actually resorted to a Forbidden Technique?!”

The gathered Qi Refiners gasped in collective disbelief. No one imagined Elder Xue Zhizheng would unleash such devastating, self-harming magic – especially against someone officially ranked below him! The cynical ploy, deliberately targeting the sister to force Yu Qingli into the trap, stripped bare any remaining shreds of Xue’s pretense.

Shhh…

Simultaneously, the three corrosive Gleams of yuan qi destined for his sister dissolved inches from her body, leaving her unharmed.

Fang Cun raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting towards the distant horizon. This intervention wasn’t his doing, though he had prepared contingency actions. Before he could act, someone hidden within the throng of cultivators, likely too cautious to openly reveal themselves but equally disgusted by Xue Zhizheng’s vileness, had stepped in. Xue’s actions had genuinely provoked morale outrage.

“Divine Phantasm: Unveiling Demon Body!”

Witnessing his sister’s danger vanish, Yu Qingli charged forward without a moment’s pause. He clenched his fist, forming another sacred seal.

RUMBLE! Behind him, a colossal demonic entity materialized. The divine spirit manifested with terrifying clarity: blue-faced and fanged, appearing utterly real and substantial. The Nine Demon Seals arts had always resonated deeply with his aura; even back in the Foundation Establishment stage, his execution carried a mystique rare in Light Condensation. Now, having ascended to that very realm, the power emanating from this technique held an inscrutable depth. The demonic apparition felt solid, almost breaching the physical plane. And critically… THAT demonic eye snapped wide open!

The instant the eye opened, waves of Demonic Intent radiated outwards. The entire demon coalesced, as if bursting into monstrous life. Xue Zhizheng’s intricate, reality-bending Forbidden Technique palace, the Grand God Palace, destabilized violently in its path. Like a compulsive liar suddenly confronted by the judge of the underworld, its intricate illusions shattered instantly under the demon’s absolute presence.

SWISH!

The moment Yu Qingli’s demonic eye unfurled, even the Divine Eye Young Master jolted. His own pair of jade eyes flew wide open in intense, startled scrutiny.

It was as if he glimpsed something terrifyingly potent, something profoundly unsettling.

…

ZZZNNT! ZZZNT! ZZZNT!

Frozen beneath the demon ocular’s unblinking, viscid gaze, Xue Zhizheng was completely immobilized.

Trapped within an artificial nightmare, he stared wildly at the towering demon effigy. His perception warped as Yu Qingli walked slowly towards him. Overpowering terror flooded Xue Zhongzhi’s being; his body began to tremble uncontrollably. His Magical Power, already disordered by mental chaos, drained away like water, collapsing utterly beyond his control…

Yu Qingli stopped directly before him, locking eyes with immense solemnity.

“Don’t… Don’t look at me… Stay away! Get back!” Elder Xue screamed hoarsely, mind unraveling. Raw panic fractured his composure entirely.

“I feared you before. I knelt. Begged. Shown no courage whatsoever…” Yu Qingli’s detached reply carried unnerving amusement despite his flat tone. He leaned closer. “Tell me, Xue Zhongzhi…” His voice leveled, an inquiry seared with memories of agony. “Now… which of us feels true fear?”

“Spare me! Mercy! Please!” Xue babbled, meaning rising struggles but only capitulation surfaced. “Forgive… my fault… I surrender… spare my life…”

Yu Qingli merely closed his demon eye for a tortured instant. When they lifted… chilling scarlet fire pulsed within them. The eerie sensation crept forward like mist—undeniable, heavy. This wasn’t vindictive rage, though the fury simmered… This pulsated with the predatory keenness of transcendent Demonic Intent surging to unleash itself from his veins. Unfathomable resolve crystallized as his hand struck forward—

SCHIKT! The nearby sword yuan slashed, thirsty and precise. Xue’s arm arced through the crimson spray. The victim’s shrill screeches met uninterruptible motion. Before the limb fully severed, Yuan energy coiled viciously. A second strike flashed, then a third. Leper-discaded chunks—legs, the remaining arm—flailed ruthlessly airborne. Schtuck-Schtuck-Schtuck!

SCHWISH! Abrupt silence descended as Yu Qingli’s blade flashed horizontally during Xue’s agonized shriek. The Elder’s eyes were removed; they struck the dirt with wet thuds. The Yuan manipulated blade tip winked forward one final time—

A fractional Shnik! sound echoed as Xue Zhizheng’s tongue disintegrated within his gaping mouth.

Finished, Yu Qingli threw his head back in ferocious, triumphant laughter. Surging Magical Power cleansed his blade instantly. He thrust his palm towards Lingwu Sect’s assembled disciples nearby and roared, “Bring it!”

Propelled by cooperative Magical Power from the Lingwu disciples, the object tumbled forward through the air. Massive… stark black… ceramic walls reflecting thin fog…

The Vat arrived precisely before him.

Without pause, Yu Qingli yanked Xue Zhizheng’s limp torso towards the rim. Grasping matted, blood-soaked hair brutally, he hauled what remained over the ceramic threshold… and dumped the fleshy mess inside the cold emptiness. Xue Zhizheng’s form collapsed unrecognizable and shrinking in its dark, hollow depths. Within instants, viscous fluid pooled thickly on the ceramic floor – a lake of glaring crimson spreading beneath the prisoner’s crippled remains, filling the space with hideous life…