Mortal: Li Feiyu, who came from the realm of a supreme being

The moonlight was bleak, and a spark crackled from the lamp wick in the Fang family's study.

Master Fang lay on the armchair, his round face, which should have been full of wealth, now only showed exhaustion, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Ming'er..." he began, his voice hoarse, "can that person... really be trusted?"

Fang Ming stood by the window, his back to his father.

He was twenty-three or twenty-four years old, tall and slender, dressed in a moon-white silk robe; he should have been a handsome young man.

But his back was taut like a fully drawn bow, and his fingers trembled slightly beneath his sleeves.

It wasn't fear, it was an overwhelming excitement.

"Father," Fang Ming turned around, the candlelight casting a half-light, half-shadow on his face, "you saw it too, how those two martial artists looked when they were sent in, and how they came out. Although they're dead, you could still smell the fragrance of those pills, couldn't you? That's the work of immortals!"

Master Fang's Adam's apple bobbed. He wanted to say that the aroma was mixed with the smell of blood, and that the two martial arts masters had bulging eyes, bleeding from their seven orifices, and looked like dried corpses when they died.

But the words stuck in his throat.

A few days ago, his eldest son, Fang Ming, "picked up" a seriously injured old man by the stream outside the town. The old man was emaciated, with a deep, charred wound on his chest that exposed the bone, yet he stubbornly refused to die.

Fang Ming hid him in the abandoned woodshed in the backyard. That night, the old man displayed his skills by starting a fire out of thin air and shattering stones with a flick of his withered finger.

"An immortal!" Fang Ming's eyes lit up immediately.

The old man, who claimed to be surnamed Xu, said he had been seriously injured in a magical battle and needed a person with vigorous qi and blood to refine a elixir in order to recover.

In return, he could take Fang Ming as his disciple and guide him onto the path of immortality.

Master Fang was initially afraid. But Fang Ming was full of longing. He had failed the provincial examination in another city and was worried about his future. Now that the opportunity to become a celestial being was right in front of him, how could he miss it?

"The Seven Mysteries Sect... will arrive tomorrow." Master Fang's voice was weak. "That disciple surnamed Li, I heard, is a master of the Outer Blade Hall; even the Wild Wolf Gang is no match for him..."

"Perfect!" A ruthless glint flashed in Fang Ming's eyes. "Master Xu said that ordinary martial artists have weak qi and blood; it would take ten of them to equal one true master. The martial artists of the Seven Mysteries Sect are the perfect medicinal ingredient!"

He took two steps closer, bent down, and stared at his father: "Father, once Elder Xu recovers, I will be the immortal's disciple. At that time, not only in Huanglongji, but in the entire Jingzhou, who will dare to look down on the Fang family? Haven't you always wanted to donate an official position? Once I learn the immortal's magic..."

Looking at the almost ferocious light in his son's eyes, Master Fang opened his mouth, but in the end, he could only let out a long sigh.

That's it, that's it.

We've come this far; it's too late to turn back.

"You...be careful." He waved his hand weakly.

Fang Ming's lips curled into a smile as he turned and left the study. His footsteps faded into the distance in the corridor, each sound striking a chord in the heart of the wealthy Fang.

In the woodshed in the far corner of the backyard, a faint candlelight shone through the crack in the door.

Fang Ming pushed open the door and entered. The smell of rotting wood and mildew hit him, mixed with an indescribable sweet and fishy odor—like honey mixed with dried blood. In the center of the woodshed, dry straw was laid out, and Old Xu sat cross-legged on it, his face ashen and lifeless in the candlelight.

"Master," Fang Ming said respectfully.

Old Master Xu slightly lifted his eyelids, his cloudy eyes darting around: "The person... has been found?"

"He'll arrive tomorrow. He's a disciple of the Seven Mysteries Sect's Outer Blade Hall, surnamed Li. I've heard his skills are quite formidable."

"Hmm." Old Master Xu's withered lips moved slightly, his voice hoarse as if tearing silk, "It's good that your qi and blood are vigorous... Once I refine it into a Blood Essence Pill, it should be able to recover 30 to 50% of your injuries."

Upon hearing this, Fang Ming's face flushed, and he said urgently, "Master, I have prepared the alchemy furnace and medicinal herbs as you instructed, and the bodies of the two martial arts masters have been cleaned up. I wonder... I wonder when I can begin my cultivation?"

Old Master Xu stared at him, a cold glint in his eyes.

Fool. Do you really think cultivating immortality is such a childish game? You don't even have spiritual roots, what kind of immortality are you trying to achieve!

If he hadn't been seriously injured by someone's self-destructing magic weapon while fighting over a Yin Soul Grass a few days ago, how could he have ended up in this state?

Now, his injuries are too severe to heal, forcing him to feign compliance with this mere mortal. In this predicament, only a potion made with the essence of a martial artist's blood, supplemented with blood vine flowers cultivated in the Yin Sha Land, can forcibly stimulate his vitality and stabilize his injuries. This is his only way to survive.

As for taking on apprentices? Ha, wait until he recovers...

"Don't worry," Old Master Xu forced a stiff smile, "Now that I've accepted you as my disciple, I will naturally teach you the methods of cultivation. Let's get things done first... When that person arrives tomorrow, lead him to the 'Alchemy Chamber' in the backyard, and don't let anyone else disturb him."

"Yes!" Fang Ming happily withdrew.

The door to the woodshed closed, and Old Xu slowly closed his eyes, the charred wound on his chest beginning to bleed again.

He pressed his withered fingers on it, and a barely perceptible black aura rose from the tips of his fingers, barely stopping the attack.

It's almost done... all we need is one more decent martial artist...

……

The following day at noon, Li Feiyu rode his horse into Huanglongji.

The town was small, similar to Qingniu Town, with a main street running north to south, lined with tiled houses and thatched cottages of varying heights. It was springtime, and not market day, so there were few pedestrians on the street. A few farmers squatted by the wall basking in the sun. When they saw him riding by on horseback with a sword at his side, they turned their faces away with a furtive look.

The Fang family mansion is located at the western end of the town, and from a distance, it looks more like Wubao.

The high brick wall was about two zhang tall, with broken porcelain pieces stuck on top to deter thieves. The black lacquered gate was covered with copper nails, and two stone lions squatted at the entrance, their eyes wide open, adding to the menacing atmosphere.

Li Feiyu dismounted and knocked on the door knocker.

After a long pause, the door opened a crack, and a gatekeeper poked his head out, his face ashen and his eyes darting around: "Could it be a master from the Seven Mysteries Sect?"

"Exactly."

"Please, please come in. The master and young master have been waiting for you for a long time." The doorman opened the door, his movements somewhat stiff.

Li Feiyu stepped in, his gaze sweeping across the room, a slight thought stirring within him.

The courtyard was spacious and spotlessly clean—so clean that not even a single fallen leaf could be seen. Several servants were sweeping and cleaning, but upon seeing him enter, they all stopped abruptly, bowed their heads, and hung their hands, their posture excessively respectful.

But their breathing was wrong.

Too heavy, too slow, as if deliberately pressed down. Two of the men dressed as servants had thick calluses on their hands and slightly bulging temples, clearly indicating they had practiced external martial arts, yet they were disguised as ordinary servants.

Li Feiyu remained calm as she followed the maid leading the way inside, already having a plan in mind.

Interesting. This Fang family is hiding something.

Master Fang received them in the front hall. Upon meeting them, he bowed repeatedly and spoke earnestly, saying that his eldest son, Fang Ming, had started behaving strangely half a month ago. He would run to the backyard every night and often bring back some fishy-smelling things. The doctors he had invited could not find anything wrong with him, so he had to seek help from the Seven Mysteries Sect.

He spoke earnestly, but beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his eyes kept glancing out of the hall.

Li Feiyu listened quietly, occasionally asking a question or two about the details, but her gaze was fixed on Master Fang's slightly trembling fingers.

He was afraid.

It wasn't that I was afraid my son was possessed by an evil spirit, it was something else I was afraid of.

Before long, Fang Ming arrived.

He was dressed in a brocade robe and had a handsome face, but his eyes were sunken and there was an abnormal, excited glint in them.

"Young Master Li," Fang Ming cupped his hands, his smile warm, "I have long admired the reputation of the Seven Mysteries Sect. Today I have the honor of witnessing your extraordinary demeanor."

"You're too kind, Young Master Fang," Li Feiyu said calmly. "I heard you've been unwell lately?"

"Young hero, it's because..." Fang Ming lowered his voice, his expression mysterious, "I recently received guidance from a master to practice a method of health preservation, but perhaps my method was incorrect, and I encountered some problems. The master is currently recuperating in the backyard. Since you are a martial arts prodigy, young hero, would you mind going there so that the master can examine your physique? Perhaps... it will be an opportunity."

The words were well-spoken, but the word "opportunity" was emphasized particularly heavily.

Li Feiyu sneered inwardly, but on the surface, she showed a moderate level of curiosity: "Oh? Then I'd like to see for myself."

"Please!" Fang Ming stepped aside to lead the way.

The three of them walked through several courtyards, becoming increasingly secluded.

As the vegetation deepened, moss grew in the corners of the walls, and a faint, sweet, fishy smell could be detected in the air.

Li Feiyu walked with ease and breathed steadily, yet all 365 acupoints in his body were already quietly operating, his true energy surging like a hidden stream, and his five senses were elevated to their peak.

Behind the artificial hill to the left front, two heartbeats.

His movements were slow and powerful, indicating he was a trained practitioner.

At the corner of the right corridor, the sound of breathing was faint and drawn-out, indicating considerable internal strength.

From the backyard... there was a chilling aura, mixed with the stench of blood and... the smell of decay.

His expression remained unchanged, and he even cooperated with Fang Ming's words, occasionally asking questions such as "What supernatural powers does the master possess?" and "How does one cultivate the methods of health preservation?" as if he had been aroused.

The Fang father and son exchanged a glance, both with joy in their eyes.

The fish has taken the bait.

Deep in the backyard, there used to be an abandoned ancestral hall, which has now been converted into the "Dan Room".

Pushing open the door, a wave of heat mixed with the smell of medicine hit me.

The room was dimly lit, with only a bronze alchemy furnace about half a person's height in the center. The charcoal fire at the bottom of the furnace was burning brightly, and the furnace body was engraved with twisted runes. Dark red mist seeped from the gaps in the furnace lid.

Three feet in front of the stove, there were two futons.

"The master is currently meditating in the inner room. Please have a seat, young hero." Fang Ming smiled and led Li Feiyu to the prayer mat. "I'll go and invite him."

Li Feiyu sat down as instructed, his gaze sweeping over the alchemy furnace and then over the medicinal herbs piled in the corner—several dark red vines with serrated edges on their leaves and roots still covered in wet mud.

It looks like a plant that grows in a yin and evil place, and it probably needs to be watered with something like blood.

He understood completely.

Fang Ming left the alchemy room, and the door creaked shut. Almost simultaneously, Li Feiyu's ears twitched slightly—

Thump. Thump.

Heavy footsteps came from behind the walls on both sides. With each step, the ground trembled slightly.

Bang! The hidden doors on both sides suddenly swung open!

Two dark figures shot out like arrows, one to the left and one to the right, heading straight for Li Feiyu!

Li Feiyu had already stood up the instant the footsteps sounded, her figure swaying like a willow catkin, narrowly avoiding the combined attack from both sides.

Upon closer inspection, his pupils constricted slightly.

Were they two people, or rather, were they once people?

A man and a woman, both dressed in black, appeared to be in their thirties or forties. However, their faces… were ashen, their eyes vacant. Beneath their exposed skin, purplish-blue veins bulged like earthworms, and their chests remained completely still, devoid of any breathing.

Corpse Puppet!

Moreover, these two corpse puppets have solid footwork and their attacks are subtly methodical—the male uses fists, and his punches are fierce and powerful, carrying the ruthless intent to split mountains and shatter rocks; the female uses palms, and her palm shadows are dense and focused on attacking vital joints.

The two worked together flawlessly. The man's fist struck his face, while the woman's palm blocked his retreat; the woman's palm slashed at his ribs, while the man's fist simultaneously slammed towards his knee.

The moves flowed smoothly, as if they were not static.

Li Feiyu felt a chill run down her spine.

It's similar to Zhang Tie, which was created by Doctor Mo. Creating a corpse puppet isn't difficult; any ordinary person can do it. The challenge lies in preserving the martial arts skills the puppet possessed in life.

This couple must have been martial arts partners for many years in life, with complementary moves and a deep understanding of each other. Even after death, they were still able to maintain this kind of cooperation.

His footwork shifted, and the light-body skill "Swimming Scale Step" he had been cultivating during his Qi-gathering period was unleashed. His figure weaved between the gaps between fists and palms, like a fish swimming in water. It seemed dangerous, but he always avoided the killing blows by the slightest margin.

But the pressure is very real.

The corpse puppet felt no pain, no fatigue, and possessed strength far exceeding that of its living self. The male corpse slammed its fist into the brick floor, shattering the bricks; the female corpse struck a pillar with its palm, sending wood chips flying. Although Li Feiyu was highly skilled, the limited space indoors meant her room to dodge was shrinking.

What's even more dangerous is that there are people lurking in the shadows.

Inside the inner chamber, behind the curtain, came heavy, suppressed breathing. Each inhalation was drawn out, and each exhalation was accompanied by a faint, phlegmy sound, indicating lung damage.

"Severely injured, very weak... A cultivator? And a heretical one at that. They sent people from the Seven Mysteries Sect through the Fang family; it seems their goal is clear—to heal the wounds of a martial artist."

Li Feiyu's mind raced, and she instantly decided on a strategy.

He did not seek a quick victory, or even... he did not seek victory at all.

A fist whizzed past his ear, a palm strike grazed his neck. Li Feiyu walked on the edge of a knife, each dodge fraught with extreme danger, yet his eyes grew calmer and deeper.

He was reminiscing.

Recalling my first experience in martial arts in my past life, the feeling of facing life-or-death battles for the first time.

Recalling the thrill of "breaking out of the cocoon" when impacting the eye orifices after the hundred-day foundation building.

Recalling the combat instincts accumulated from countless missions across the Six Paths of Reincarnation...

This body is too young, too "new". The hundred days of foundation building have honed its foundation, but the true sense of a martial artist needs to be tempered by blood and fire to awaken it.

Now, these two corpse puppets, which retain their martial arts skills from their lifetimes, are the best whetstones.

Li Feiyu began to change his playing style.