The Spiritual Pivot of Mortal Cultivation

The recent stillness in Shenshou Valley has become somewhat chilling.

This coldness wasn't in the wind, nor in the mountain scenery, but rather in the places where there should have been sound, which suddenly and gradually disappeared. A few days ago, although the medicine stove in the valley burned day and night, there were still the soft sounds of pounding medicine, turning the tray to collect dregs, lifting the lid to add firewood—from the medicine shelf in front of the house to under the eaves of the side room, there was still a trace of human life. But in the past few days, all those sounds seemed to have been smoothed out one by one with the fingertips of someone; even the sound of the flames licking the pot in the stove had become quieter.

Bai Xuanxin looked around three times, and then she understood—

The situation in the valley is no longer "gradually tightening".

Instead, it received the last round.

He did not go to visit frequently because of this.

On the contrary, ever since he had completely fixed the shadow of that low wall behind the stone house on the right, Bai Xuanxin had been going to the valley even less often than before. On ordinary days, he would only take a quick look from a distance under the pretext of returning medicine, getting a fortune slip, or keeping track of the furnace time in the side hall; that was all.

Because once you get to this point, moving any further forward is not out of caution, but rather an invitation to expose yourself.

The most terrifying thing about Mo Juren is not his ruthless methods, but that once he feels the time is right, he won't let out even the slightest hint. Bai Xuanxin knew that he had already measured the birds, the road, the lights, the house, and the retreat line. What remained was not "knowing a little more," but whether he could walk in according to his calculated steps when that night truly fell.

So when he entered the valley that day, he still walked very lightly.

There happened to be a medicine urn that had been borrowed earlier in the side hall, which needed to be returned to Shenshou Valley. Such a trivial matter was naturally not worth mentioning; but at this moment, it became a perfect pretext to subtly reveal its true purpose.

When Bai Xuanxin carried the urn into the valley, the sky was darkening towards the end of the day.

The mountain breeze was thin, unable to disperse the wisps of medicinal smoke under the eaves, only gently pushing them aside against the corners of the house and the medicine shelves. As Bai Xuanxin stepped into the valley, the first thing he smelled was that familiar scent—the dryness of the blazing fire grass, the hardness of the yangqi stone, yet beneath it lay a layer of indescribable coldness and bitterness, like several medicines that should not have traveled together, forcibly forced into a pot, slowly simmered over a low flame.

The flavor is more even and richer than it was a few days ago.

Being too uniform is not a good thing.

Sinking is not a good thing either.

This indicates that the fire on the stove has stopped leaping wildly. In other words, the person brewing the medicine has completely calmed down.

Bai Xuanxin carried the medicine urn, his expression unchanged, and continued along the old path.

No one came to greet them in the valley, nor did anyone ask any questions. The front house, the side rooms, the medicine shelf, the old mortar, the water vat—everything was exactly the same as before. But it was precisely this "unchanged" appearance that made one's heart sink the most.

Since there are no more defects, it means that the hand inside has suppressed everything that can be suppressed.

Bai Xuanxin glanced at Han Li with an extremely calm expression and spotted him next to the medicine shelf.

He was bending down, arranging two trays of half-dried medicinal herbs, his movements steady and almost rigid. If it were anyone else, they might have thought this young man was more composed than before. But Bai Xuanxin could tell at a glance that it wasn't.

Han Li is not one to remain calm.

It's too tense.

That tension isn't in the shoulders or the steps, but in the entire person's "contraction." Like a bow that's already fully drawn, ready to snap at any more than half an inch, it looks stable on the outside, but every single muscle inside is screaming.

Bai Xuanxin approached, her voice as flat as ever:

"The side hall told me to bring the medicine jar back."

Han Li looked up at the sound, his expression still calm, and reached out to take it.

"Thank you for your help, Senior Brother Bai."

He didn't talk much, nor was he cold; he was exactly the same as before.

But when Bai Xuanxin's gaze fell on his fingertips, her heart sank even further.

The moment Han Li caught the jar, his five fingers first gripped it very lightly before releasing it. This was because he was so tense that he dared not completely relax even in such a commonplace action.

Bai Xuanxin didn't say anything immediately.

Because this place doesn't allow for much talk.

The curtains at the front door hung silently, and the fire in the side room was not burning brightly; nothing could be seen or heard clearly. But it was precisely because nothing was visible that it suggested the person inside was likely hiding something very deeply.

Bai Xuanxin glanced briefly at the courtyard before looking away.

In that instant, all three things had settled into his heart.

Han Li tightened his grip.

The valley is even quieter.

The lingering medicinal aroma in the room was also more "harmonious" than in previous days.

The word "harmony" is the most problematic.

If Mo Juren were still troubled, still confused, and still showing a hint of restlessness from the agonizing process, it would mean he was still waiting. But now even that restlessness has disappeared, leaving only a layer of almost flawless calmness, which means that he has probably already timed the timing quite well.

Bai Xuan was thinking about all this, but on the surface he only glanced at the medicine shelf as usual and said indifferently:

"The valley has been very quiet these past few days."

Han Li carried the medicine urn, his gaze unwavering, and casually moved a tray of half-dried medicinal herbs to a different position.

"When the fire on the stove is burning smoothly, the noise will naturally be less."

That was a very flat answer.

But to Bai Xuanxin, it felt like someone was gently scratching her heart with a fingernail.

The fire is burning smoothly.

He understood better than anyone that these three words falling upon Mo Juren were definitely not a good omen.

No one came out of the house.

There was only a very light sound as the spoon handle touched the edge of the pot, as crisp as an ice shard cracking, before it quickly disappeared into the wind.

Taking advantage of Han Li moving the medicine plaque, Bai Xuanxin also reached out to help.

This group's movements were perfectly natural.

The medicine tray was half-turned, creating a thin layer of herbal shadows between the two people. In addition, the wind was weak under the eaves and the fire in the stove was stable. The crisp sound of the spoon handle lightly touching the medicine pot could be heard intermittently. That thin line became a gap that was neither "out of sight" nor clear to the ear.

Bai Xuanxin lowered her eyes and lowered her voice to an extremely low level, almost as if it were just a breath:

"The valley is too quiet."

Han Li paused.

It was just a very short meal.

Bai Xuanxin didn't look up, still seemingly tidying the grass leaves at the corner of the medicine tray, her voice lowering even further:

"When stillness reaches its extreme, bloodshed is most likely to occur."

Upon hearing this, Han Li seemed to tense up slightly in the depths of his being. Yet his face remained expressionless; he simply straightened the medicine tray gently, a barely perceptible line of white appearing on his knuckles.

Bai Xuanxin then handed over the last half of the sentence:

"If it really comes to that—"

He stopped.

He didn't finish his sentence.

Because at this point, half a sentence is more valuable than a whole sentence.

The whole sentence was meant for outsiders to hear.

The half-sentence is left for those who understand to fill in the blank.

As expected, Han Li didn't turn around, nor did he respond too readily; he simply uttered a very soft sentence:

"I've got it."

It's not a letter.

No thanks.

It was not the kind of frivolous talk of immediately swearing an oath to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

I just—remembered it.

But for Bai Xuanxin, that was enough.

Because he knew Han Li's character all too well. The fact that Han Li had memorized a single sentence meant that he understood at least seven-tenths of its meaning. As for the remaining three-tenths, he wouldn't need anyone else to explain it to him; he would gradually understand it little by little during the night.

Bai Xuanxin didn't say anything more.

After straightening the medicine tray, he naturally withdrew his hand and returned to his original position, as if nothing had happened.

The two didn't even exchange a glance.

The valley remained quiet.

It was so quiet that even the sound of the wind rustling through the medicine shelves seemed very faint.

The curtain at the front door was still hanging, and the fire in the side room was still burning steadily. No one was seen getting up, and no one was heard speaking. But Bai Xuanxin knew better than anyone else that it was precisely this "immobility" of not moving anything that was most like a bow that had been fully drawn but had not yet been released.

If this continues, there will be only one thing left to do.

That is-

The string broke.

As usual, Bai Xuanxin took the two medicinal herbs needed for the side hall and then left the valley without lingering.

He walked more steadily than he had on the way here, until he rounded the bend in the mountain outside the valley that was most likely to make people turn back, and then he stopped for a while.

A mountain breeze blew from the depths of the late forest, carrying the scents of medicine and vegetation, causing the hem of his clothes to cling slightly to his knees. Bai Xuanxin stood by the rocky slope, gazing at the entrance of Shenshou Valley, which was shrouded in twilight and the shadows of houses. His expression gradually turned cold and then somber.

This trip was extremely short.

But the three most important things have already been confirmed.

Han Li was already at his limit.

Mo Juren has reached the pinnacle of harmony.

The air in the valley had become extremely still.

At this point, the game in Shenshou Valley was no longer just "about to end" in his mind.

Instead, it's like a pot of boiling water that stops trembling even when the lid is pressed down—

The sounds had subsided, the white steam had dissipated, but the fire below was still burning the iron cauldron inch by inch until it turned white, reaching its deepest point.

Further down, all that's needed is a single thread.

It was about to explode.

Bai Xuanxin stood in the wind, motionless for a long time.

He knew that from this night onward, every time he entered the medicine pool, every time he practiced the root method, and every time he dislocated his shoulders and locked his elbows in front of the wooden stake in the Seven Mysteries Sect, he could no longer treat it as just his daily practice.

These things are no longer homework.

Rather, it was the imminent threat of war.

Each pool of medicine is meant to further stabilize the bones.

Every step was a smoke-filled puff, meant to keep my feet steady on the night I entered the valley.

Every move to break the opponent's defense is no longer for future competition, but to break the line that will kill Qu Hun first when the moment truly arrives.

With that thought, Bai Xuanxin finally withdrew her gaze and turned to descend the mountain.

By the time we returned to the cabin on the back mountain, it was already late at night.

He didn't sit down or drink water first; he simply pushed open the door, lit a lamp, and then stood directly in front of the wooden stake that he had modified to include his shoulders, elbows, knees, and ankles.

Once the lights came on, only he and the wooden stake remained in the room.

Bai Xuanxin calmed himself for a long time before slowly raising his hand.

First, the shoulders.

Next is the elbow.

Next is the knee.

Finally, the ankle.

Each movement was slower and heavier than in previous days.

He knew that he didn't have much time left to prepare.

And that night was approaching.