What Master Ji did not know was that this treasure map was nothing more than a small trick played by Dong Fuyi just before his divine consciousness began to collapse—a ruse devised solely to give Li Yan a better chance to escape. Dong Fuyi had deliberately crafted this map, and its details—the terrain and landscapes—were not randomly invented. They had been imparted to him by that stray fragment of divine consciousness that had roamed free while he slumbered within the Jade Book. At that time, Master Ji had almost retraced every step of his old pilgrimages in search of a cure for his fire poison. Consequently, the divine sense "stored" within the Jade Book naturally knew which places Master Ji had visited. In Dong Fuyi's recollections, selecting a location from those familiar routes was an effortless task.
However, creating this map was not as simple as it might seem. There were subtle requirements. The journey depicted couldn't be too short—lest Li Yan should find the place very quickly and, upon discovering it was a sham, return immediately. But it couldn't be too long either; the deeper reaches of the Great Qing Mountains were infested with fearsome demons and vengeful specters, and those were not adversaries a minor cultivator like Master Ji could handle. In fact, given Master Ji's own cautious scheming, he would never venture too far into dangerous territory—if he did, not only would his chance to escape vanish, but he would likely perish even faster. Thus, Dong Fuyi had chosen a range that Master Ji could conceivably survive and, by patching together remnants of terrain memories from other areas, forged a map that appeared plausible enough.
This clever ruse would serve to delay Master Ji's search for the "treasure" by extending the time it took to verify its authenticity—and in the meantime, Li Yan would gain precious extra time to slip away. When Dong Fuyi exchanged those brief communications with Li Yan, his divine consciousness had been teetering on collapse. In barely twenty or so breaths, he had hurried through the necessary details, exhausting his final bit of power to carve the map. He did not have time to explain it further, and then—like a wisp—he vanished, leaving Li Yan none the wiser.
That entire noon, Master Ji agonized over whether this plan was genuine and feasible. If the specified location really were as perilous as his own judgment suggested, could he even return safely? Even if he managed to reach that spot and find the site marked on the map as the location of the "Great Poison Gives Life Technique," how would he then enter the treasure trove? And once inside, what dangers might he face? All these questions were impossible to predict. Yet if he chose not to go, then the Jade Book—which after so many years had finally provided a faint glimmer of hope—would remain his only hope. Losing this chance to save himself was unthinkable. In the end, Master Ji couldn't devise a flawless strategy until Li Yan arrived.
Later, when Li Yan entered the stone house and sat down cross-legged, Master Ji steadied his breathing and smiled gently, "How do you feel now?"
Li Yan quickly replied with respectful earnestness, "Teacher Qi Bing, I feel that my body is now much lighter than before, and even my six perceptions are sharper."
Master Ji's face lit up with the warm relief of an old man witnessing success. "Very good, very good. This means that through your hard work over these past days you have successfully entered the first level of the 'Mu Yin Gong' technique. I have seen your perseverance and dedication—excellent, excellent! But remember, remain humble and do not get complacent. Continue your cultivation in this manner. In the short remaining time I have to guide you, I hope to see at least a modest breakthrough so that my efforts will not have been in vain—and so that I may truly honor the legacy of our sect's founder." Even as he finished speaking, a trace of sadness began to darken his once-joyful expression.
Seeing this, Li Yan's own expression turned to worry. "Teacher, surely your health will not be compromised?"
"Rest assured, my disciple," Master Ji replied, "you shall not disappoint the trust placed in you by our sect. You must train doubly hard—but… but…" Li Yan answered firmly at first, though his voice soon wavered.
Master Ji's calm expression darkened slightly as he asked, "What is troubling you?"
After a moment's pause, Li Yan said hesitantly, "It's just that… after advancing past the first level, if I don't channel energy my body is fine; but once I do, the restless, heated energy inside my dantian seems to become even more turbulent—as if an unruly drumbeat is intensifying. It appears that I may have run into some trouble with my cultivation."
Master Ji's eyes remained as still as a deep well. With a soft chuckle he explained, "I suspected as much. I have not yet had the opportunity to explain this to you when you first entered the level. There are several reasons for this condition. First, you have only barely reached the first realm, and your foundation is not yet fully stabilized. Second, as I have mentioned before, the extraordinary power of our sect's martial arts comes from the uniqueness of our internal cultivation method. Now that you have entered the first level, you must no longer practice the 'Qi Guidance Technique.' Instead, you need to study and cultivate the corresponding incantation specifically tailored for this level. Third, the main purpose of the first level is to let the medicinal elixir within your meridians fully fuse and consolidate—thus strengthening your foundation. Only when that foundation is stable will the internal energy in your dantian condense properly and your meridians become resilient. Until you reach the second level, you will continuously be affected by the residue of the medicinal elixir in your body. Do not worry—once you advance to the second level of 'Mu Yin Gong,' everything will normalize."
At these words, Li Yan's initial hesitation slowly gave way to determination. Satisfied, Master Ji nodded and said, "I will now pass on to you the incantation for the first level. Memorize it well." With a graceful flip of his right hand, a sheet of paper bearing roughly a hundred characters appeared on the table.
Bowing slightly to show his gratitude, Li Yan took the paper and sat down to study it carefully. After reading it through once, he looked up at his teacher. Noting this, Master Ji began to recite the incantation word for word, explaining each detail meticulously.
After watching Li Yan's form disappear from the doorway, Master Ji casually waved his hand across the table. The sheet of paper drifted upward and, without a breeze to guide it, spontaneously combusted into ashes. He then stared blankly toward the door. After about half a cup of tea had passed, as if having reached a decision, he rose and slowly walked toward the door.
What Li Yan did not know was that he had once possessed a significant chance to escape this place. Alas, fate was unkind—Dong Fuyi never had a chance to explain the contingency plan he had left behind, and Li Yan unwittingly missed a tremendous opportunity to save his life.
Time, as always, slips away like fine sand through one's fingers. Day after day, Li Yan toiled in the valley, practicing his cultivation with great effort. He would only emerge every two or three days. Though he still couldn't go without food entirely, his constitution had grown markedly different from that of ordinary people. Missing a day or two of meals was manageable; sometimes he became so engrossed in practice that he only woke up from training when hunger finally snapped him out of it—only then to realize that several days had passed.
Over his repeated sessions emerging from the valley, people began to notice a change in his temperament. He grew increasingly irritable—when disappointed, he would launch into a tirade of angry scolding that left the women delivering his meals trembling with fear. In the end, only Chen An and Li Yin were entrusted with bringing him food. Gradually, though, they observed that Li Yan was treating them less kindly, much to their dismay.
Chen An and Li Yin were among Master Ji's closest aides. Every time Master Ji went out, he always instructed them to take good care of Li Yan—and though they were expected to try their best to meet any requests, they were never to allow Li Yan to leave the Master's mansion lightly. His training schedule was too rigorous to slack off; otherwise, every mishap would have to be reported back to him.
As Li Yan's temper worsened, Chen An and Li Yin began to grumble privately. Meanwhile, since Master Ji had left more than ten days ago and had not returned, no one knew what had befallen him. In the past, when the master went out, he would typically return within half a day or a night. This time, his absence was baffling.
In the following days, Chen An and Li Yin began to relax slightly, though still uncertain what mischief the "old master" in the valley might have caused. They passed the time by scavenging for pens, ink, and paper—and would often copy texts, poems, or verses from the books on the shelf. They scribbled for half a day or even a full day, so much so that the floors became littered with spilled ink and stray paper. They had to tidy up carefully afterward and then, with forced smiles, ask Li Yan how he wished them to handle the papers: Should they mount them on the wall or sort them and store them away in large boxes?
Growing impatient, Li Yan curtly ordered them to roll the messy papers out. They reluctantly had no choice but to carry them away—but dared not throw them out, fearing that if the master had another episode of nervousness later, he might recall these "cryptic doodles" and demand they be retrieved. That would inevitably invite another scolding, so they gathered several large boxes to store the crumpled pages.
Frankly, the writings themselves were hardly commendable; some were so scribbled that they resembled ghostly scrawlings. They weren't even sure what poems or verses they were copying. Who would have expected that, after a few days, they would be startled to discover that Li Yan's temper had gradually calmed—so much so that he even displayed a hint of courteous politeness that was once his norm. This left everyone in the valley rather perplexed.
Li Yan, for his part, felt a measure of frustration. Recently, he had been training with extreme diligence. When he emerged, he was sometimes forced to perform for the others; however, the strangest thing was that on two or three occasions when he came out, he did not see his teacher anywhere in the valley—let alone witness any performance from him. In the past, it had been normal for Master Ji to be absent when one emerged from training, so at first Li Yan did not mind. But over these past ten or so days, he had come out several times and yet had not seen his teacher even once. This suddenly made him wonder if he had missed something. After a brief moment of thought, he went to the door of the first stone house. Unlike before—when Master Ji's presence would be sensed and followed by a query—this time there was only silence. With a feeling of foreboding, he stepped forward and knocked on the door. When no response came, he hurried to the valley's entrance and raised his voice to call for Chen An.
Chen An, his face tense, emerged from the stone house outside the valley. Behind him, several soldiers watched his retreat with sympathetic looks, thinking, "What is wrong with our young master today? He's stormed out of the valley, shouting at the top of his lungs." These soldiers were not in charge of the valley's affairs—those were handled primarily by a few of the women along with Chen An and Li Yin. Recently, these very people had been suffering quite a bit.
"Chen An, I've come out for training several times now but have not seen the Master. Is he not in the valley these days?" Li Yan asked boldly while standing at the valley entrance.
"Sir, Master Ji has been gone for over ten days now. I'm not quite sure whether he's in the city on business or if something else has come up," Chen An answered with a forced smile that quickly eased his own tension.
"What? The teacher has been away for more than ten days?" Li Yan's voice suddenly rose in anger as his frustration boiled over—this time he wasn't faking his concern; he was genuinely anxious.
Seeing Li Yan's sudden outburst and furious expression, Chen An's heart pounded with apprehension. "Isn't it normal for Master Ji to be out sometimes? Besides, you haven't even bothered to ask about it yourself." Still, he carefully inquired, "Sir, is there something you need from Master Ji? If we can do anything to help, please let us know."
Li Yan's heart skipped a beat; he realized he was now succumbing to his emotions. Quickly, he forced his tone to one of scorn and said, "I am trying to get my teacher to address some issues with my cultivation. How could you possibly be of any help?" He then shot a sidelong glance at Chen An.
Chen An's face fell, and he murmured, "Sir, there is nothing I can do."
"Then why even ask? Tell me—when will the teacher return to the mansion?" Li Yan demanded.
"Honestly, I do not know. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow—maybe…" Chen An replied uncertainly.
"Enough! Not knowing is simply not knowing—there is no today or tomorrow!" Li Yan snapped, and without looking at Chen An a second time, he turned and strode back into the valley.
At the valley's mouth, Chen An sighed heavily—this errand was cursed with misfortune. Then he too turned toward the open grounds outside the valley. There, he was met with a chorus of light laughter. When he looked up, apart from Li Yin standing on a bare patch of open land and a few women at the kitchen door with resigned expressions, the rest of the soldiers were all smirking mockingly at him. Indignant, Chen An thought, "What are you idle chaps doing here? You're not even on guard or resting – why are you just standing around?"
These soldiers had long held Chen An and Li Yin in contempt. Why should only the two of them (along with the women) be allowed to manage the inner valley? Who wouldn't want to catch a glimpse of the Master? The women, as servants tasked with cleaning or preparing meals, had little choice—but Chen An and Li Yin were regularly allowed to work in the valley alongside the Master and Li Yan, thereby widening the gap between their ranks and those of the other soldiers. Lately, as the two of them were frequently rebuked, others seemed pleased by the disparity.
The few soldiers said nothing more; they merely chuckled softly, blew a whistle in passing, and dispersed—leaving only Chen An and Li Yin on the open ground.