The entry for cultivating immortality states that after dying a hundred times, I attained immortalit

The Condensing Essence Jade Liquid has been safely stored away; there's no need to go to Misty Hidden Lake for the time being.

The map lay open on my lap, the edges of the parchment worn and frayed, the charcoal lines crooked and uneven. About three hundred li west of Misty Lake, a skull marker was drawn, next to which were the words "Soul-Severing Cliff" written in tiny characters. Beyond Soul-Severing Cliff, another hundred li or so west, was a blank space, devoid of any depiction of mountains or water, save for three dark red characters painted with vermilion:

Buried in the wasteland.

"We can try to hide it from view."

Jiang Bai muttered to himself.

He put away the map, stood up, and dusted off the hem of his clothes.

The gray cloth shorts he was wearing were damp and then dried, stiff but not eye-catching.

The disguise on his face had not yet been removed; he still had that ordinary, middle-aged face.

They set off westward.

After traveling another thirty li, a dark shadow suddenly rose on the horizon ahead.

That is the Cliff of Broken Souls.

From afar, it appears as just a black line, but its precipitousness becomes apparent upon closer inspection. The cliff rises nearly a hundred feet high, its entire surface composed of dark red sandstone, as if soaked in blood and dried by the wind over millions of years. There is almost no vegetation on the cliff face, only a few crooked cracks, their natural formation or human-carved nature unknown.

Below the cliff, there was a narrow path, no more than three feet wide, winding its way up the cliff face. Scattered on the path were pebbles, some of which still bore traces of dried, blackened blood.

Jiang Bai paused to observe for a moment, then silently activated his [Killing Intent Perception]. There was no sign of life on or below the cliff, but there were a few faint traces of spiritual energy fluctuations, like remnants of a battle from many years ago.

He stepped onto the path.

The wind grew sharper in his ears, whistling and howling through the cracks in the cliff face. The path was narrow, and loose stones rolled underfoot; a slight misstep would send him tumbling into the deep valley. Yet Jiang Bai's steps were steady, his body pressed against the cliff face as if walking on flat ground.

When we reached the middle of the mountain, the path ahead was mostly blocked by a huge boulder that had collapsed.

Behind the boulder, in a recess in the cliff face, sat a skeleton. Its clothing had long since weathered away, leaving only bare bones. Its head hung low, its right arm was broken, and the fingers of its left hand were deeply embedded in a crevice in the rock. A broken sword lay diagonally across its chest, its blade heavily rusted, with only a faint, indistinct animal head mark visible on the hilt.

Jiang Bai glanced at it without lingering, then squeezed through the gap between the boulder and the cliff face.

He paused slightly as he passed the skeletons.

From the crack in the rock where the skeletal fingers were digging, a faint metallic luster shone through. Jiang Bai bent down and gently parted the rubble with the tip of his Bloodstained Blade, and a palm-sized bronze token fell to the ground. The front of the token was engraved with the character "戍" (Shu), and the back was decorated with mountain and river patterns. The edges were severely worn, but it felt heavy in the hand and exuded an ancient aura.

This must be the waist tag of a border guard from which dynasty?

Jiang Bai put the token into his storage bag and continued upwards.

After walking for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, we finally reached the top of the cliff.

The wind was even stronger at the cliff top, making robes flutter loudly. Looking to the west, there was an endless gray-brown plain, the surface gently undulating, as if it had been plowed countless times by a giant plow, or like a dead sea that had been dried up for many years. There were no trees, no weeds, only scattered jagged rocks, eroded into strange shapes by the wind.

Above the wasteland, the sky was a murky grayish-yellow, with low-hanging, slowly creeping clouds that resembled dirty cotton wool wrapped in sand and dust.

This is the wasteland where bones are buried.

Jiang Bai stood on the edge of the cliff, quietly contemplating for a moment.

The spiritual energy here is indeed thin and chaotic; inhaling it is like swallowing a mouthful of murky water mixed with sand, requiring much more effort to refine and purify it. However, the chilling deathly aura permeating the air makes his [Corpse Poison Body] subtly "jump for joy," as if it were receiving rain after a long drought, spontaneously and slowly absorbing the yin energy that ordinary cultivators would avoid at all costs.

"It's a good place." Jiang Bai walked down the Broken Soul Cliff and stepped into the wasteland.

The soil beneath my feet was soft and loose, like years of accumulated ash, making no sound when I stepped on it. After walking for about half an hour, the surrounding scenery remained unchanged—the gray-brown plains, the jagged rocks, and the deathly silent wind.

Within the range of [Killing Intent Perception], there was always emptiness.

It wasn't until the sun was setting in the west that a dark shadow appeared on the horizon ahead.

It was a half-collapsed beacon tower.

The platform is built of dark blue-green boulders, about two zhang high. The upper half has collapsed, with broken bricks and tiles scattered all around. Only a small part of the tower remains stubbornly standing, like a giant with half its head cut off. Several pieces of charred wood, half-buried in the soil, are scattered around the beacon tower. Judging from their shape, they should be the original barracks.

As Jiang Bai approached, he noticed an inconspicuous gap in the shaded area of ​​the beacon tower, resembling a hole formed during a collapse. It was dark inside, and he couldn't tell how deep it was.

Just as he was about to step forward to investigate, his [Killing Intent Perception] suddenly stung.

It wasn't murderous intent, but a faint, fearful fluctuation of life.

It was deep within the ruins of the beacon tower.

Jiang Bai paused, his right hand quietly pressing on the hilt of his sword. He completely concealed his aura and silently activated [Shadow Stealth]. Like a shadow, he moved silently around to the side of the gap, clinging to the shadow of the beacon tower base.

Suppressed and heavy breathing came from inside the breach, mixed with a faint smell of blood.

Jiang Bai listened intently for a moment, then suddenly spoke, his voice low but clearly reaching the gap: "Are your friends inside injured?"

The panting stopped abruptly.

After a full three breaths, a hoarse, strained voice came from inside, filled with intense wariness: "Who?!"

That sound...

Jiang Bai frowned slightly, feeling the name sounded somewhat familiar. After a moment's thought, he removed part of his disguise, revealing a slightly more natural voice: "Ping'an County, the Jiang family."

A deathly silence fell over the gap. After a moment, the voice suddenly trembled, filled with unbelievable joy: "Brother Bai... Brother Bai? Is that Brother Jiang Bai?"

Jiang Bai's eyes flickered, and he stepped into the gap.

The room was dimly lit, with broken bricks and stones piled in the corner. A figure huddled in the corner, his clothes tattered and stained with blood and mud, a torn piece of clothing wrapped around his left shoulder, the bloodstains now a dark brown. The person slowly raised his head; though his face was filthy, his eyes, and those honest yet stubborn features…

"Jiang Shi?" Jiang Bai recognized him at a glance.

It was Jiang Shi, a collateral descendant who wielded a thick-backed cleaver during the clan's martial arts competition years ago. He was solid in his moves but lacked flexibility. After being defeated by him in three moves, he even scratched his head and admitted defeat with a silly smile.

Jiang Shi struggled to stand up, but the movement aggravated his wounds, causing him to wince in pain and fall back down. He looked up at Jiang Bai, his eyes reddening slightly: "Brother Bai, is it... really you? I heard you were in Black Wind Valley..."

"He's lucky he's not dead." Jiang Bai stepped forward, squatted down, and glanced at the wound on Jiang Shi's shoulder—the wound was deep, as if pierced by a sharp weapon, and the edges of the flesh were an unnatural bluish-black, clearly indicating poisoning. He took out a bottle of ordinary antidote powder and hemostatic ointment from his storage bag and handed them to Jiang Shi: "Treat the wound first."

Jiang Shi took the medicine bottle, his hands trembling slightly. He lowered his head and haphazardly sprinkled the powder onto the wound, muttering, "I thought... I thought Brother Bai, you too..."

"How did you get here? And why are you so badly injured?" Jiang Bai asked.

After applying the medicine, Jiang Shi tore off another piece of clothing with his teeth and clumsily bandaged the wound, chuckling bitterly as he did so: "It's a long story. After the clan's martial arts competition, I felt that there was no point in just studying behind closed doors, so I told my family and went out to make my own way. I first wandered around a few nearby prefectures and counties, and then came to the desolate prefecture half a year ago."

He paused, his eyes dimming. "It's tough being a rogue cultivator. No backing, no resources, you have to risk your life for everything. A few days ago, I joined a hastily assembled team that claimed to have discovered an ancient tomb, possibly containing relics left by a Foundation Establishment cultivator. I was thinking, if I could find something good and exchange it for spirit stones, maybe I could raise enough money to buy a Foundation Establishment Pill..."

Jiang Bai listened quietly.

"We did gain some things after entering the ancient tomb, but we also triggered some mechanisms and restrictions, resulting in the deaths of two people." Jiang Shi's voice lowered. "Later, in the main burial chamber, we found a skeleton that had passed away peacefully, with a jade box in its bosom. The leader of the group, along with two other highly skilled individuals, immediately became enraged."

"Those three were always in cahoots." Jiang Shi raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. "The four of us were just pebbles used to test the waters. As soon as the jade box appeared, they turned on us. Wang Laosan tried to take it, and was stabbed through the stomach. Seeing the situation was bad, I grabbed a fallen magical artifact and ran, but I still took a poisoned dart to the shoulder..."

"After escaping the ancient tomb, they chased me for two days and two nights," Jiang Shi gasped for breath. "In my panic, I stumbled into this wasteland. They chased me to the edge of the wasteland, but dared not come in any further. They only guarded outside for two days, and then, probably thinking I was doomed, they withdrew. I survived here on some fasting pills and rainwater, but my wounds are getting worse and worse."

After listening, Jiang Bai remained silent for a moment, then asked, "Is it worth risking so much for the sake of Foundation Establishment?"

Jiang Shi was stunned for a moment, then forced a smile that looked more like a grimace: "Brother Bai, people like us can't compare to the scions of those major sects and families. When they reach the Foundation Establishment stage, they have masters to protect them, elixirs to supply them, and blessed lands to await them. But what do we have?"

A faint light gradually gathered in his eyes, weak yet stubbornly shining: "The so-called struggle for the Great Dao, to put it nicely, is a struggle; to put it bluntly... it's a grab. A grab for opportunities, a grab for luck, and a grab for life. This time I lost, almost losing my life, but I don't regret it. Next time I have the chance, I will still grab it."

"If you don't seize it, you'll be stuck in the Qi Refining stage forever, turning into a handful of dust in a hundred years." Jiang Shi looked at Jiang Bai, his voice hoarse but clear. "If you seize it, even if it's a nine-out-of-ten chance of death, there's still a glimmer of hope to see a higher view. Brother Bai, don't you agree?"

Jiang Bai remained silent.

He recalled his journey, the desperate counterattacks in the Black Wind Valley secret realm, the countless life-or-death battles in the Desolate State—weren't they all forms of "grabbing"? Grabbing a sliver of life from the hands of fate, snatching cultivation resources from the hands of enemies, and forging a path to climb upwards in this cruel world.

"Let's focus on healing first." Jiang Bai took out two bottles of ordinary Qi-restoring pills and some water, placing them beside Jiang Shi. "The deathly aura in this wasteland is too strong; it won't do you any good for your injuries. Once you're better, leave this place as soon as possible."

Jiang Shi took the pill, his eyes reddening again, and nodded emphatically: "Thank you, Brother Bai."

He took the pill, regulated his breathing for a moment, and his complexion improved slightly. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he said, "Brother Bai, there's something... When I was fleeing for my life in that ancient tomb, I rushed into a side room in my panic. There was a broken stele in the side room with some ancient characters carved on it, some of which I could barely recognize."

Jiang Bai looked at him.

"The inscription says that this burial wasteland was once an ancient battlefield where countless people died, and the resentment and death energy have accumulated and cannot be dissipated. But every full moon night, around midnight, the death energy in the depths of the wasteland will be extremely dense, and at that time... 'Soul Grass' may appear."

"Soul-Suppressing Grass?" Jiang Bai's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes." Jiang Shi tried hard to recall. "The inscription said that the thing was extremely yin and poisonous, and that ordinary cultivators would suffer damage to their souls if they touched it. But there was a note in small print below that if it was refined using a special method, the Yin Soul Grass could actually 'suppress the soul and stabilize the spirit,' and it had a miraculous effect on cultivators resisting inner demons and stabilizing their souls when breaking through to a higher realm. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now that I think about it... Brother Bai, since you're here, you might find this information useful."

Jiang Bai silently made a note of it.

On a night of full moon, deep in the wilderness, the ghost grass grows.

This item does indeed subtly align with his requirement for "stabilizing the soul" during his foundation building.

"I understand," Jiang Bai nodded. "Thank you."

Jiang Shi smiled憨厚ly: "Brother Bai saved my life, this little bit of news is nothing." He struggled to stand up and moved his limbs—though still weak, he could walk. He took out a crumpled piece of rough paper from his pocket and handed it to Jiang Bai: "This is a rough map I drew after I escaped into the wasteland. It marks a few places where we can hide and rest temporarily. Brother Bai might find it useful."

Jiang Bai took the coarse paper and saw crooked lines drawn with charcoal sticks on it, along with several crosses and circles.

"Brother Bai, then... I'll be going now." Jiang Shi clasped his hands in thanks. "I won't thank you enough. If Brother Bai ever needs my help in the future, I'll go through fire and water for you without hesitation."

Jiang Bai patted him on the shoulder: "Take care."

Jiang Shi nodded emphatically, turned around and limped out of the gap in the beacon tower, his figure gradually disappearing into the gray-brown twilight of the wasteland.

Jiang Bai stood at the gap, watching his departing figure, motionless for a long time.

Meeting old friends in this vast, desolate land, in this deathly burial ground, evokes a strange sense of disorientation. Jiang Shi's words, "The great path is about seizing," still echo in my ears.

Yes, they robbed it.

He went from being on the verge of death to now being at the peak of Qi Refining and half a step into Foundation Establishment, all thanks to repeatedly snatching his life back from the brink of death and taking resources from the enemy.

Jiang Bai withdrew his gaze and turned to look inside the beacon tower.

The location was good; the wreckage was still intact, providing shelter from the wind and dust, and there might even be a cave beneath. He decided to use it as a base for the time being.

After clearing out a small, clean area, Jiang Bai began his investigation. The base of the beacon tower was made of huge stones. In a corner, he found several loose stone slabs. After prying them open, he discovered a narrow stone staircase leading downwards.

The stone steps were covered in dust, and the edges of the steps were severely worn, indicating that people or objects often went up and down them.

Jiang Bai condensed a wisp of dark golden poisonous energy from his fingertips, transforming it into a bean-sized point of light that hovered in front of him, illuminating the area below. The stone steps were not long, about twenty or so, and at the end was a small cellar about ten feet square.

The cellar was empty, except for a few broken pottery jars piled in the corner, all long gone. But a faint trace of yin energy lingered in the air, much denser than on the ground.

"This is truly an excellent place to cultivate the 'Hundred Poisons Tempering Technique' and adapt to the death aura," Jiang Bai thought to himself with satisfaction.

He returned to the ground and set up the "Eight Directions Warning Array" at the gap in the beacon tower. He planted eight small black flags in a hidden corner, their spiritual energy intertwined to form an invisible barrier covering an area of ​​ten feet in radius. If any person or living creature intruded, the flags would heat up as a warning.

After everything was arranged, it was completely dark.

The night in the wilderness was exceptionally deep. There were no stars or moon in the sky, only an impenetrable darkness and the howling wind within it. Occasionally, strange noises would be mixed in with the wind, like the distant clash of metal, or like indistinct sobs, indistinct yet inexplicably sending chills down one's spine.

Jiang Baipan sat in the cellar, closing his eyes and regulating his breathing.

The Corpse Poison Body operates spontaneously, with wisps of cold, deathly energy seeping from the surrounding soil and stone walls. It is absorbed into his body and transformed into pure Yin-attribute spiritual power through the poisonous patterns, slowly nourishing his meridians and physical body.

The third level of the "Hundred Poisons Tempering Technique" flowed through his mind, faintly resonating with the deathly aura outside.

The system remained silent, but the clues about the "Yin Soul Grass" were like a pebble thrown into a still lake, rippling outwards from the depths of his Dao heart.

Is it the night of the full moon...?

He opened his eyes, and in the darkness of the cellar, a glint seemed to flash in his eyes.