Projection of the Heavens: I prove my immortality through slaughter.

Winter in Qinglan City seemed even more biting than in the capital. The wind was like a knife, whipping up fine snowflakes that pattered against the windowpanes, as if countless ice silkworms were gnawing away at the last vestiges of warmth. Yet, in that unassuming little courtyard in the western part of the city, a small red clay stove provided a warm and cozy atmosphere. The crackling fire cast its light on Lin Xuan's calm, expressionless profile.

He sat at his desk by the window, neither contemplating the stars nor perusing any secret manuals, but simply playing with the wisp of condensed, yet not dissipating, silvery internal energy at his fingertips. That internal energy, like a living serpent, coiled and danced between his slender fingers, sometimes spreading like a thin mist, gently covering the white porcelain cups on the table, causing the tea within to quietly rise in warm white steam; at other times, it condensed like a tangible needle, precisely piercing a hexagonal snowflake that drifted in through the window crack, the snowflake instantly vaporizing without a trace.

This exquisite control over power transcends the realm of mere "internal force" in this world. It is a fundamental transcendence brought about by the superior foundation of the *Star River Qi Refining Technique*, an enhancement of his "divine consciousness" through the continuous nourishment of his soul by the power of faith, and a natural outcome resulting from his fusion of the essence of numerous martial arts techniques. Although his total Starry Sky Internal Force is still only equivalent to the early stage of the Meridian Opening Realm, its quality and effectiveness are enough to leave ordinary peak Meridian Opening Realm cultivators far behind.

With a creak, the door was gently pushed open, and Manager Feng entered, bringing with him a chill. He carefully closed the door, shutting out the biting north wind. His usual kind face was replaced by a hint of solemnity as he held an antique-style, gold-embossed invitation in his hands. The edge of the invitation was embroidered with a small sword in gold thread. Though only an inch long, its sharpness was fully revealed, exuding a piercing aura, as if looking at it too long would hurt one's eyes.

"Brother Xuan," Manager Feng handed over the invitation, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible worry, "the Divine Sword Manor has sent an invitation."

The silver internal energy that had been swirling around Lin Xuan's fingertips vanished silently, as if it had never existed. He accepted the invitation, which felt slightly heavy in his hand; its material was neither paper nor silk, and it was cool to the touch, clearly not an ordinary item. Unfolding it, he found the contents concise, the wording seemingly polite, yet the lines conveyed the arrogance and unquestionable authority befitting a martial arts holy land:

"We have heard that Young Master Lin Xuan of Qinglan City is a young talent with exceptional skills. Our manor will soon be hosting a 'Sword Testing Gathering,' inviting all young talents to appreciate swordsmanship, discuss martial arts, and exchange techniques. We sincerely invite Young Master Lin to grace us with his presence and join us in this grand event. Respectfully yours, Divine Sword Manor."

At the bottom of the seal is a sharp, sword-like stamp, its black ink faintly revealing a metallic sheen, exuding a subtle sharpness. Upon prolonged viewing, it can even cause a slight stirring of the viewer's blood and qi.

"Divine Sword Manor..." Lin Xuan's eyes flickered slightly as he repeated the name in a low voice. Even in the original owner's memories, limited to the prosperity of the capital and the power struggles within the marquis's mansion, this name was legendary. One of the universally recognized martial arts holy lands in the Tianyuan Realm, it was founded on swordsmanship and had a history of over three hundred years. The manor was filled with experts, and the current manor lord, Situ Jiannan, had already stepped into the Innate Realm many years ago. His "Splitting Light and Shadow Sword" was said to have reached perfection, earning him the title of "Sword Saint." His influence extended throughout the dynasty, and even the royal family had to show him respect.

How could such a colossal entity, perched atop the clouds and overlooking the martial world, have its tentacles reaching out to a remote place like Qinglan City, noticing this deliberately low-profile "nobody"? Was it a deliberate publicity by one of the Wang, Li, or Zhang families? Or was it that his casual punishment of the black bear and the meager power of faith gathered from the quietly erected shrine ultimately triggered some mysterious response from certain beings?

"Brother Xuan, the journey is long... and the manor is full of heroes. I'm afraid..." Manager Feng looked worried, hesitating to speak. Divine Sword Manor is located in the "Sword Echoing Mountains" in the southern border of the dynasty, more than half a month's journey from Qinglan City. Moreover, such a place is full of geniuses and has strict rules. He was worried that Lin Xuan was young and might suffer grievances or get involved in unnecessary trouble.

"It's alright." Lin Xuan closed the invitation, the oppressive sword intent feeling like a gentle breeze to him. His expression remained calm, but a hint of interest flashed in his eyes. "Since it's a sword competition, it's fine to see the scenery at the pinnacle of swordsmanship in this world." He felt that the martial arts available in Qinglan City had reached a bottleneck, and this trip might allow him to glimpse higher levels of martial arts philosophy, or even... personally experience the so-called "Innate" realm of this world and see how it differs from his power originating from the star sea. Moreover, reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles; the act of traveling itself is a tempering and expansion of one's mind.

Three days later, a simple blue-canopied carriage silently departed from the still-sleeping Qinglan City as dawn broke. Lin Xuan politely declined the escort convoys offered by the city's three major families, taking only the loyal Manager Feng with him, traveling light and simply south to the long-awaited martial arts holy land.

The carriage rolled southward along the ancient road, its surface still damp with snow. The climate subtly shifted with latitude; the biting winds gradually softened, and the scenery changed accordingly. Majestic mountains, draped in snow and clouds, stood like silent giants; a mighty river surged through the canyons with unstoppable momentum; on the boundless plains, winter wheat nurtured a green hope; villages dotted the landscape with wisps of smoke, exuding the warmth of human life; in bustling towns, people from all walks of life played out their own joys and sorrows…

The vastness and diversity of the Tianyuan Realm unfolded before Lin Xuan's eyes like a magnificent, vivid, and realistic scroll painting.

He didn't stay in the cramped carriage all the time; he would often get off and walk, or climb a high slope alone to look out into the distance. He watched the simple smiles of old farmers in the fields, their faces etched with the wrinkles of time, reflecting the harvest; he watched the camel bells of caravans, the guards' wary yet weary eyes; he watched wandering swordsmen in roadside taverns, shouting and drinking heartily, eating large chunks of meat with unrestrained abandon; and he also watched scholars and poets by the lake, in pavilions, facing the clear sky after the snow, reciting poems and composing verses about the wind and moon with refined elegance and sentimentality.

The myriad aspects of human life, the vast and boundless world.

This is completely different from the naked survival of the fittest, the pursuit of individual transcendence and eternity, and the cold and direct rules of the cultivation world. Here, there is a stronger and more complex human touch and a more vibrant atmosphere. Although it is also full of struggle, scheming and injustice, it is also full of the vigorous vitality and indomitable resilience of life.

He no longer merely observed from a superior position as a "passerby from another world" or a "calm researcher," but began to slow down and truly understand and feel the unique "qi" and operating laws of this world.

Passing through a village recently ravaged by a flash flood, the scene was one of devastation. The victims were pale and sickly, and children cried incessantly. Lin Xuan remained silent for a moment, then instructed Manager Feng to quietly distribute most of the money he carried to the most destitute families. He then secretly used his inner strength to restore the disordered blood and qi of several villagers who had been severely injured by collapsing roof beams, and to reconnect their severed meridians. He left without leaving his name, and even before the villagers could react, he was already gone. But when the victims looked around in bewilderment and then kowtowed in the direction he had left, the heartfelt gratitude and prayers in their eyes transformed into a more refined and warm milky-white power of faith, continuously flowing into his sea of ​​consciousness, giving him a more direct and profound understanding of "cause and effect" and "merit."

While stopping for a bite at a century-old inn called "Listening to the Rain Pavilion," he happened upon several dashing young swordsmen traveling together. They discussed tales of the martial world, their joys and sorrows, their words filled with a yearning for and adherence to the concept of "chivalry," and an almost blind worship and reverence for the "Sword Saint" Situ Jiannan. That pure passion, arrogance, and idealism, unadulterated by any other, was a rare sight in the treacherous and calculating world of cultivation, stirring a slight ripple in his tranquil heart.

He once sat alone on the banks of a mighty river on a moonlit night, surrounded by dark rocks eroded over millions of years. He gazed at the vast river, the low-hanging clouds, the moon rising over the surging current, and listened to the crashing waves, churning up countless whitecaps. He felt the immensity of heaven and earth, the infinity of time and space, and his own insignificance, like dust. The tension in his heart, born of the destruction of his family and the deep-seated blood feud, gradually eased, settled, and broadened under the silent cleansing of this magnificent landscape and the timeless nature.

Cultivating immortality is not just about cultivating strength and longevity, but also about cultivating one's heart. If the heart is clouded, even with the power to move mountains and overturn seas, one will find it difficult to glimpse the true face of the Great Dao.

Throughout his journey, he hadn't deliberately meditated or practiced, yet the light of faith within his sea of ​​consciousness shone ever brighter, and his perception of the stellar power seemed to become clearer and more intimate. He could even vaguely sense that in another world, his true cultivation body, whose bottleneck at the third level of Qi Refining remained as solid as a mountain and had yet to be broken through, was showing subtle, almost imperceptible signs of loosening under the mysterious influence of his projected body's experiences in the mortal world and its continuously improving state of mind. This gave him a deeper understanding of the meaning of "projecting into the heavens."

Half a month later, as the carriage left the last hilly area, the view suddenly opened up. In the distance, a magnificent mountain range, its overall shape resembling a giant sword piercing the clouds, came into view! That was the Sword Echoing Mountains!

The mountain range is predominantly dark bluish-black, steep and rugged, with clouds swirling only around its waist, as if afraid to profane its sharpness. Pavilions and towers with flying eaves and brackets are faintly visible among the mountains, appearing and disappearing in the mist, like a fairyland. Even more chilling is that, even from dozens of miles away, one can feel invisible yet sharp sword intent rising into the sky, subtly stirring the clouds above, making that area of ​​sky appear exceptionally clear yet chilling.

We've arrived at Divine Sword Manor!

At the foot of the mountain, the area was already bustling with activity, filled with the sounds of people and the hustle and bustle of traffic. Young talents and scions of prominent families from all over the country arrived, some riding exceptionally fine steeds, others in ornately decorated carriages, and still others walking in small groups with swords in hand. Each possessed an air of confidence and sharp eyes, their brows carrying the arrogance of genius and anticipation for the upcoming grand event. The disciples of the Divine Sword Manor, responsible for welcoming and guiding the guests, were all dressed in immaculate white robes, each with a uniformly styled longsword at their waist. Their expressions were stern, their auras powerful and sustained, and their eyes flashed with a sharp light, revealing their considerable cultivation.

Lin Xuan and Manager Feng handed over the gold-embossed invitation. A white-robed disciple, who was the leader, took it and examined it carefully. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and his gaze lingered for a moment on Lin Xuan's overly young and calm face. He seemed surprised by the name "Lin Xuan" and his unassuming demeanor. However, being a disciple of the Holy Land, he was extremely well-mannered and said nothing, only politely cupping his hands in greeting: "Young Master Lin, Elder Feng, please follow me." He then led them up the bluestone steps leading to the mountain gate.

The stone steps wind and twist, leading straight into the depths of the clouds and mist. On both sides are ancient pines and cypresses weathered by time, interspersed with strangely shaped rocks. The higher one climbs, the clearer and sharper the invisible sword intent permeating the air becomes, as if countless invisible swords are hanging overhead, pointing at one's heart, making one involuntarily tremble with fear, requiring the circulation of internal energy to resist this oppressive force.

Many of the young martial artists in the group were already pale-faced, sweating, and breathing heavily, clearly not feeling relaxed under the pressure of the sword intent.

However, Lin Xuan remained composed and unperturbed. The silver internal energy originating from the starry sea within his body flowed slowly and autonomously, as if possessing its own consciousness. Its pure and high-level power naturally possessed a strong immunity and tolerance to this kind of external "momentum" bearing the strong imprint of personal will. Far from feeling pressured, he was able to carefully analyze and savor some of the core characteristics of the Divine Sword Manor's swordsmanship—extreme sharpness, unyielding integrity, and unwavering determination, leaving no stone unturned.

He calmly surveyed this renowned martial arts holy land. The mountain gate was majestic, and the four large characters "Divine Sword Manor" carved in stone were strong and elegant, each stroke resembling a peerless sword move, containing endless mysteries. He felt little awe or excitement in the face of a holy land; rather, he felt a curiosity to witness and explore.

A sword duel? A test?

His purpose in coming here was primarily to see just how high the pursuit of the ultimate "sword" by all living beings in this world could reach, and what kind of scenery it could create.