Chapter Sixteen: The Festival of Martial Rites

Witnessing the scene unfold before her, Rou’er was immediately filled with anxiety and regret for having listened to Chen Mu’s advice. The power of ten Sha Pills at once was no laughing matter; for an ordinary person, such a torrent of baleful energy would have rendered them crippled. Only now did she truly sense the depth of Chen Mu’s resolve to cultivate. The little paw that was about to dissolve the baleful energy within him hesitated briefly, then withdrew. She decided, after all, to trust Chen Mu’s words once more.

Blood seeped from Chen Mu’s seven orifices as he desperately drew upon the vitality within the black pearl to mend his internal injuries, guiding the enormous influx of baleful energy toward the location of the Earth Fiend Meridian, attempting to break through by sheer volume. Through struggle, fury, forced composure, and the endurance of excruciating torment, he patiently flushed the meridian, every moment a torment for both body and spirit.

Time trickled by. At last, exhausted to the point of collapse, he lay sprawled on the floor, yet the surging energy within him continued to scour the meridian. To their relief, the first Earth Fiend Meridian was slowly opening. After half an hour, finally, the first of the Earth Fiend Meridians was cleared.

Chen Mu shakily sat up, exhaling in relief. “Finally, the first Earth Fiend Meridian is open. Now, I have activated thirty-seven meridians!”

“You fool, how could you be so reckless? Taking ten Sha Pills at once could’ve killed you if you’d made the slightest mistake!” Rou’er scolded, her anger barely concealing her concern.

“I’m sorry to have worried you...”

“Hmph! Who’s worried about you? You blockhead, you dead log... Just like your father, you’re both hopeless...” Rou’er grumbled on, venting her frustrations.

Chen Mu smiled awkwardly and focused on restoring his body. Though he’d opened a new meridian, his injuries were serious and needed to be brought under control quickly. After the time it took to finish a cup of tea, he was fully recovered.

Once healed, Chen Mu prepared to continue opening more Earth Fiend Meridians. Rou’er, shocked and indignant, protested, “Again? Do you know how much pain you were in just now? No, I can’t let you risk your life like this.”

Chen Mu offered a wry smile. “Rou’er, if I open the meridians by normal means, it’s useless. Taking the pills one by one can’t break through the blockages. If I want to become strong, I have to be ruthless with myself. Don’t you agree?”

Rou’er fell silent. She always thought him a bit foolish, but now, his stubborn dedication to cultivation made him seem like a true man, steadfast and unyielding.

“All right, I’ll stand guard for you. If it becomes unbearable, just slap the floor, and I’ll help draw out the baleful energy,” she said, still worried.

Thus, Chen Mu spent the day in a cycle of agony and regeneration. His ordeal left Rou’er on edge, fearing that a single misstep would cost him his life.

Yet Chen Mu endured, and with that immense suffering came the power he sought. By the end of the day, after exhausting a hundred Sha Pills, he had opened nine Earth Fiend Meridians.

...

The next morning, Chen Mu enjoyed the best sleep of his life; after that hellish ordeal, he finally reaped the rewards. Yet, it was far from what he’d planned. He’d thought a hundred Sha Pills would suffice to open all seventy-two Earth Fiend Meridians and complete the full array of one hundred and eight Tian Gang and Earth Fiend Meridians. But in reality, a hundred pills had only opened nine meridians, leaving both him and Rou’er frustrated and disappointed.

Still, all was not lost. At least, with enough pills, the meridians could still be forced open. More could be refined in the future.

Now, Chen Mu found himself able to stand against a mid-stage Origin Foundation cultivator. He might not win, but at least he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. He hadn’t forgotten his duel with Chen Wuhen—it was the Martial Festival today. If he lost, Chen Haoran’s reputation would be tarnished, so he had to win. His current cultivation and spells weren’t enough; he needed something more.

As if reading his mind, Rou’er piped up, “I have a technique that complements your cultivation method. It’s called ‘Falling Sun Form.’ Take it and learn it—this technique can compensate for your lack of power against mid-stage Origin Foundation opponents.”

Strictly speaking, the ‘Falling Sun Form’ was a method for manipulating vital energy, not bound to any particular moves or shapes, but a refined control of force. It had three stages: the first, ‘Falling Sun,’ where one’s energy crashed down like a setting sun; the second, ‘Shattered Sun,’ where one must resolve to extinguish the sun itself; the third, ‘Sunless Day,’ pouring all one’s strength into a single point like a star undergoing fusion—a final gambit that would leave even the user drained.

After becoming familiar with it, Chen Mu immersed himself in the practice, repeating the techniques over and over.

As dusk fell, the sun set and evening deepened.

The townsfolk began to set up stalls and lanterns for the festival; fireworks and festivities were all in readiness, awaiting the citizens of Fancheng to revel in the grand celebration. After dinner, families took to the streets, which soon bustled with life, filled with a sea of people and a constant flow of carriages.

Chen Mu and Chen Haoran ventured out, wandering among the stalls. The small streets were packed, the array of snacks and trinkets dazzling the eye. Colorful pinwheels spun in the breeze, children laughed and played in monster masks—this atmosphere gave father and son a rare opportunity to enjoy time together.

Chen Haoran bought a sugar figurine and handed it to Chen Mu. “When you were little, you loved these. Whenever you were bullied, all it took was one of these to stop your tears. I’ve seen all the hardship you’ve endured over the years. Though I am the clan leader, that’s precisely why your second uncle’s faction has always made things hard for you. Are you confident about your duel with Chen Wuhen?”

Chen Mu admired the sugar figurine, then took a bite, a confident smile on his lips. “Don’t worry. I never fight battles I’m not sure of winning.”

Seeing the change in his son, Chen Haoran was dazed for a moment, then nodded. “You’ve grown up, Mu’er.”

Thus, Chen Mu bought a bowl of lamb soup, sipping as he watched the street performers, awaiting the festival’s official start.

...

Night had fallen, and the excitement reached unprecedented heights. With a thunderous boom, fireworks exploded into dazzling patterns in the sky—the festival climax had begun. Lantern parades wound through the city, and the people of Fancheng reveled with abandon.

At the same time, the martial stage came alive with a series of duels; all those under twenty joined in, fists and palms flying in fierce, back-and-forth contests.

Chen Mu strolled toward the martial platform, where Chen Wuhen and his Ye family companions were gathered. Chen Wuhen sneered, “I thought you didn’t have the guts to show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Teaching you a lesson doesn’t scare me—unless, after beating the younger ones, the elders come out. Even then, with my father here, why should I be afraid?”

“You! Hmph, all talk. I’ll see how you fare in the ring.”

Just then, a resentful voice called out from the side, “Chen Mu! You dare enter the tournament?”

“Brother, it’s him! Chen Mu from the Chen clan—the one who beat me the other day. You have to avenge me!” The speaker was none other than Gong Ning, who’d clashed with Chen Mu, Daniu, and Axiu recently.

A burly nineteen-year-old gazed at Chen Mu, following Gong Ning’s gesture. “So you’re Chen Mu. I am Gong Ning’s elder brother, Gong Yi. Do you dare face me in the ring?”

“Master Wuhen, do you mind if I spar with your clansman first?” Gong Yi asked, respectful.

“Go ahead,” Chen Wuhen replied.

“Looks like you attract enemies wherever you go—even the Gong family now,” Chen Wuhen remarked with a sidelong glance.

Chen Mu snorted. “One more or less—what difference does it make?”

Chen Wuhen smirked and said no more.

Gong Yi stepped onto the stage, releasing the aura of a mid-stage Origin Foundation cultivator, and dispatched the current champion with three blows.

He beckoned to Chen Mu in challenge. “Come on, the obstacle’s gone. Let’s see what you can do.”

Chen Mu smiled, leapt onto the stage in a single bound, and faced Gong Yi across the platform.

Gong Yi narrowed his eyes and asked, “I hear you’re only at the late Meridian Opening stage—were you hiding your strength? You defeated four at once, and I heard you bested a newly advanced Origin Foundation cultivator in your clan. That proves you’re in the Origin Foundation realm too. So, the rumors back then must have been wrong—all that talk of a useless Chen, crippled in cultivation, was just your way of hiding your talent until now. Am I right?”