On the Path to the Great Dao

Other Piao Lu descended from the sky, their grotesque tongues forming nooses in the air, seeking to ensnare Chen Shi. In the darkness, the loops were nearly invisible, waiting for a careless misstep to tighten around a victim’s neck and suspend them midair.

Chen Shi pushed the limits of his Horse Charm Talisman, sprinting down the post road with the wind at his feet, leaving the sinister entities far behind. The talisman’s power gave him incredible speed, his steps light and swift, his robes flowing gracefully in the moonlight.

Yet beneath the surface, Chen Shi’s condition deteriorated. His heartbeat quickened, each beat a painful weight crushing his chest.

“Not now... Please, not now!” he muttered, desperation creeping into his voice.

The pain in his heart intensified, a familiar agony that signaled one of his mysterious episodes. It always struck after moments of extreme exertion or emotional strain—like after he massacred the Li family camp or killed the Iron Pen Scholar and Steward Zhao Ming. Those instances, though painful, had never come so soon or so fiercely as now.

The aftermath of the Huangyang Village bloodbath—21 lives taken—was unlike anything he’d experienced before. The repercussions were immediate, his heart feeling as if a ghostly hand clenched it, squeezing tighter with each beat.

His vision blurred. The moonlit road ahead twisted and warped, spinning like a whirlpool. Blood seeped from his nose, ears, and eyes, leaving his face streaked with crimson.

“I won’t die here! I need to get home... I have to see Grandpa! Even if I die, it won’t be on this road!”

Chen Shi gasped for air, his breathing ragged as he forced his faltering body forward. Desperately, he began reciting the Three Radiance Righteous Qi Method, urging the Big Dipper’s power to cleanse his body.

“Behold the heavenly way, uphold its path…” Stars of the Big Dipper flickered into view around him, their light following his staggered steps, but their influence was faint. The specters of the night seized upon his weakened state.

Leading the chase were the Piao Lu, grotesque floating heads with long tongues that looped around the necks of the dead. They swayed through the air, their macabre "puppets" dangling below like grisly marionettes in an eerie dance.

On the ground, dozens of crawling infant-like figures raced toward him, their chubby limbs moving with unnatural speed. They giggled and babbled in childlike voices, climbing trees and falling, only to be saved by their serpentine necks that slithered to catch them.

Further back, tiny riders on yellow toy horses galloped, wielding miniature bows and shooting arrows toward him. Though their size made them less threatening, they grew closer with each of Chen Shi’s missteps.

Chen Shi’s legs faltered, his vision spinning as his weakened senses failed him. The green ghost hand tightened its grip on his heart, forcing him toward the brink of collapse.

Ahead, the road seemed to ripple as dozens of red embroidered shoes appeared, covering the ground. Their vibrant designs, with peach blossom stitching and peony embroidery, glowed malevolently.

The Suì, spirits of chaos, had arrived. Their influence disrupted Chen Shi’s mind, compounding his disorientation.

Just as he stumbled toward the cursed shoes, they vanished. The road returned to normal, and a soft glow illuminated the path ahead.

The clatter of hooves echoed through the night as a luxurious carriage approached, pulled by four magnificent horses. A lantern swung at the front, its light scattering the encroaching spirits.

“Whoa!” the driver called, pulling the reins.

The carriage stopped before Chen Shi, and from within, a serene voice greeted him.

“It’s been a while, Chen Shi.”

The speaker was Xiao Wangsun, a nobleman Chen Shi had encountered once before outside the Mountain Lord’s Villa, a place steeped in Yin energy. Xiao Wangsun, with his refined manners and almost divine presence, had left a lasting impression on Chen Shi.

Now, seated within the carriage, Xiao Wangsun looked as composed as ever, unaffected by the dangers of the night.

“You seem to be struggling,” Xiao Wangsun observed, his jade-like features calm as his eyes traced the flickering starlight surrounding Chen Shi. “Your cultivation technique is incomplete. The method you’ve practiced for the Big Dipper Refinement is flawed.”

Chen Shi tried to stand straighter, to greet him properly, but his legs refused to cooperate. Pain robbed him of speech.

Xiao Wangsun continued, his tone unhurried. “Your stars illuminate only your surface—skin and blood—but fail to temper your organs, marrow, or spirit. True refinement lies beyond mere starlight.”

Summoning his last reserves of willpower, Chen Shi rasped, “Please... guide me, Master.”

Xiao Wangsun nodded. “Focus on the Heavenly Pivot Star (Tianshu) at your feet. Observe its sigil.”

Chen Shi squinted at the faint star cluster before him, its intricate patterns sharpening into view: a bold character for "Great," a script-like "One," and the symbol for "Rectitude" surrounded by an ancient dragon motif.

“Each of the Seven Stars—Tianshu, Tianxuan, Tianji, Tianquan, Yuheng, Kaiyang, and Yaoguang—has its own sigil and refinement method,” Xiao Wangsun explained. “Step onto the Tianshu star and activate its sigil.”

Chen Shi obeyed, trembling as he placed his foot on the star. Its light flared, surging into his body and coursing along his skeletal system. The starlight flowed through every bone, soaking into his marrow, leaving him shivering with both pain and relief.

“Now, Tianxuan,” Xiao Wangsun instructed.

Chen Shi moved with difficulty, stepping onto the next sigil as it transformed. Each step brought new light and power into his body, cleansing and strengthening him.

The refinement method guided his steps in a flowing dance, his body gaining speed and grace. The once-overwhelming pain ebbed away, replaced by vitality as his bones, blood, muscles, and spirit were tempered by the stars.

By the time he completed the Seven Refinements, Chen Shi’s heartache was gone, his senses sharper than ever.

Xiao Wangsun smiled faintly. “Your technique, though incomplete, is exceptional. Few methods encompass such a comprehensive transformation. With proper guidance, it could elevate you to greatness.”

Chen Shi bowed deeply, gratitude filling his voice. “Thank you, Master Xiao.”

“Do not waste this opportunity,” Xiao Wangsun advised, his tone firm yet kind. “Cultivation is not merely survival—it is the path to transcendence. Remember this.”

As Xiao Wangsun’s carriage disappeared into the night, Chen Shi stood tall, his heart steady, his spirit renewed. Beneath the cold starlight, he felt ready to face whatever awaited.