The Little Demonic Cultivator in the Courtyard: Borrowing 100,000 Japanese Pirates to Heal

It's not just any kind of pain.

Sweat poured down his head, as if someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water; it was hot and sticky, soaking through Xu Jiande's military overcoat.

Cold sweat mixed with the blood from the murder he committed the night before, forming a pinkish stain that flowed down his legs as he sat cross-legged onto the straw mat.

The demonic energy rushed through the Jade Pillow Pass, and suddenly everything went black before his eyes. Then, a white light exploded in his mind, as if someone had lit a firework in his eye.

The white light illuminated the entire cellar, revealing the wooden planks overhead, the cracks in the walls, and a half-dead rat in the corner.

Then he couldn't see anything anymore. All the strength in his body seemed to be drained away, and he fell backward, landing straight on the straw mat, unconscious.

He didn't know how much time had passed before Xu Jiande slowly opened his eyes.

The cellar was still dark, with only a sliver of grayish-white light leaking through the crack in the bricks above, falling at his feet and making the puddle of water on the straw mat appear dark.

His whole body felt like it had been disassembled and reassembled; every bone was sore and soft, and every inch of his skin felt numb, as if there was a damp cloth between them, and nothing he touched felt real.

After a while, Xu Jiande moved his fingers. His hand moved.

Then I slowly bent my legs up, and a series of fine cracking sounds came from my knees. It didn't hurt, just a little sore.

He propped himself up on the ground, leaned against the wall, and looked down at his hands.

Those hands were still my own, yet they didn't feel like mine. The blood vessels under the skin were clearer than before, bluish-purple, like a very fine net crawling on the back of my hands.

He tried clenching his fist; there was a warm, breezy feeling between his knuckles, like holding a lump of charcoal that wasn't too hot to handle.

He closed his eyes and focused his consciousness into his dantian.

The vortex of energy in my dantian is still there, but it's completely different now.

Before, it was vapor, mist, or swirling, flowing smoke. Now it's more like a pool of water, its color a dark reddish tinge, lying quietly at the bottom of the dantian, with only extremely slow, deep ripples, like a spring in a deep pool.

He tried to stir the water with his mind, and the pool made a very faint sound, a buzzing sound, and then fell silent again.

Xu Jiande opened his eyes and slowly exhaled.

"Foundation Establishment," he said softly, with an indescribable weight and joy.

Xu Jiande recalled what the Blood Ancestor had said: "Refine the Qi and condense it to form a sea. Not a real sea, but liquid."

The demonic energy transformed from vapor to liquid, from wispy threads to flowing water, and from then on, it was ever-renewing and self-sufficient.

He then realized that the pain he had felt earlier was his body rebuilding itself. His bones, meridians, and flesh had all been rejuvenated.

He raised one hand and looked at himself in the little bit of light that was leaking in through the hole.

The scars on my hands have faded, and the old knife marks look like they've been sanded with fine sandpaper, leaving only a white mark.

He clenched his fist, the force of which was deeper and more stable than before. It was no longer a reckless, charging force, but rather like drawing a fully drawn bow, the more taut it was, the quieter it became.

Xu Jiande thought to himself. From now on, he was no longer in the Qi Refining stage, no longer a kid who could only rely on speed and strength. His strength and survival ability had greatly improved.

Xu Jiande stared at the black light in his palm, watching it fade away little by little until only a few extremely thin red lines remained in the palm print, like blood, but not entirely blood.

He could vaguely hear the Japanese soldiers outside searching for him all over the city. The barking of dogs and the sound of whistles came from afar, as if they were coming from a dream.

Xu Jiande's lips twitched very slightly; he had indeed advanced.

This battle was not fought in vain.

……

After a while, Xu Jiande stood up, walked to the cellar entrance, and pushed open half of the broken wooden plank.

Before dawn, the eastern horizon was a somber gray, like a piece of cotton cloth soaked in water.

The ruins outside were washed by the night rain, and the stones gleamed black.

The wind was cool, making him shiver as if he had just climbed out of a deep well.

He stood there for a while, then slowly raised his right arm and sent the demonic energy into his palm.

His palm felt warm for a moment, then cooled down. He pushed outwards, not with his full strength.

Suddenly, a section of charred broken pillar half a zhang away made a "crack" sound, as if it had been gently pushed by someone, and a crack appeared in the middle.

Xu Jiande stared at the crack for a few seconds, then withdrew his hand.

"It's done," he said softly.

The sound was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

But his eyes were very bright, as bright as the only thing still awake amidst the ruins of this city.

This is because he can now project his power outwards without relying on physical strength, which is the biggest improvement.

In high spirits, Xu Jiande returned, straightened his clothes, and tucked his knife away. Just as he was about to sit down, he suddenly remembered the Blood Ancestor.

This old man said that killing 100,000 Japanese soldiers would awaken him.

Xu Jiande calculated that there were several hundred in the capital city, several dozen along the way south, and a little over two thousand in Jingzhou in the past few days.

It's still far from 100,000. But the Foundation Establishment stage has already been passed.

If we kill 50,000, will we be able to reach the Golden Core stage?

He didn't know. The old bastard Blood Ancestor's words were always half-truths.

He touched the wooden plaque in his arms again.

Then I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and listened to the wind blowing across the ruins, like the whole city sighing softly.

It was almost dawn. He prepared to sleep for a while.

Then go and wreak havoc on all sides.

Xu Jiande didn't wake up until noon.

The sky outside was overcast, with low-hanging gray clouds that looked like it was about to rain but wouldn't.

He pulled off the tattered overcoat covering him, sat up, and leaned the back of his head against the wall for a while.

He felt very quiet inside, so quiet that he wasn't used to it.

In the days before, the demonic energy was always churning in my dantian, like a pot of water that wouldn't boil, making a bubbling sound. Now that the water has boiled, it's silent.

He tried moving his fingers.

He didn't use much force, but his fingertips seemed to be carrying the wind as they slid through the air. He heard a very faint sound, like a blade grazing paper.

Xu Jiande raised his hand and looked at the beam of light leaking in through the hole.

The hand was still the same hand, but beneath the skin, there was a faint red tinge—not blood, but light.

He placed his hand on the earthen wall beside him, without using any demonic energy, just a light press. The wall sank in half an inch, and several fine lines crept out from between his fingers, like a dried-up riverbed.

After mastering and adapting to his increased strength, Xu Jiande withdrew his hand, got up, and crawled out of the cellar.

In Xu Jiande's eyes, the outside world was different.

It's not that Jingzhou City has changed. The ruins are still the same ruins, the ash heaps are still the same ash heaps. What has changed is him.

He stood at the cellar entrance, and before he could even take a step, sounds from all directions rushed towards him.

He heard a rat scurrying under the broken tiles about thirty paces behind him, its paws slipping on the moss.

He heard someone breathing heavily from the depths of an alley to his left, very lightly, as if they had been ill for a long time, or as if they were crying.

Further away, to the north of the city, there was the sound of leather boots stepping on gravel. There were more than one pair, at least five or six of them, walking very slowly, stopping and starting, as if they were searching for something.

He could even hear the sound of the Qinhuai River. The river breeze from the west of the city carried the fishy smell of the water, which gradually seeped onto the embankment, like a person swallowing saliva.

Xu Jiande closed his eyes and pushed his senses outward.

The demonic energy spread slowly from his feet like an invisible ripple, passing over broken bricks, broken walls, and the beams that had been burned down to half their original size.

Thirty steps, fifty steps, eighty steps. Around a hundred steps, the ripples weakened, like the flame of a lamp dying down as the oil runs out. But that was enough.

He opened his eyes.

"This is Foundation Establishment," he thought. "Very good, very powerful. I can easily slaughter the Japanese devils now."