Chapter Eight: The Envoy of the Celestial Way

The celestial messenger’s voice was cold and indifferent, showing not the slightest regard for Lord Hu. To be fair, in the days when Heavenly Dao swept through three counties and slew countless ghosts and gods, not even earth deities and powerful spirits could escape its wrath, let alone a mere local deity like Lord Hu. So how could this messenger possibly care about him?

“Who are you people? How dare you try to steal—” The Hu family guards, escorting the carriage, began to protest, but their tone changed abruptly. “Three-section staff… you’re a messenger of Heavenly Dao!”

Inside the carriage, Wang Zhenling could no longer sit still. His heart sank as he lifted the curtain to look outside. The Hu family’s guards were all spirits—formidable ones, likely fierce ghosts that had been recruited for protection. Usually, they appeared normal, indistinguishable from ordinary folk. But now, facing the messenger in hempen robes, their bodies were shrouded in black mist, faces tinged with a pale, deathly hue.

In such a state, any commoner would surely scream at the sight, and the timid might faint from fright. Even Wang Zhenling felt a stir within, realizing these two Hu family guards were at least of the fierce ghost rank. Lord Hu truly lived up to his reputation as a local deity.

Yet, even these fierce ghosts were deeply wary of the messenger, standing in a defensive posture before the carriage, but not daring to attack.

“If you don’t move aside, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” The messenger’s patience was clearly exhausted. His voice was icy as he pointed, and a cluster of blue-green flames arose from his three-section rattan staff. The fire was unnaturally cold, with no heat at all; instead, its presence caused the air to grow steadily more frigid.

The two fierce ghosts recoiled in terror, stepping back instinctively. They did not recognize the flames, but sensed a dire threat in their presence.

Yet their duty was clear. Originally destined for torment in the ghost prisons, they had been spared by Lord Hu. Now, retreat was not an option. Not only did they owe loyalty, but the ghost domain was a fate worse than annihilation.

Exchanging a glance, the two spirits steeled themselves for death. With a shout, black mist surged from their bodies as they lunged at the messenger.

“Fools!” came the cold retort.

The messenger sneered, having intended to show some respect for the local deity, but seeing the fierce ghosts so eager to die, he could not be blamed for his harshness. The blue-green flames swept forth, chilling the air. This was ghostfire, deadly to spirits—once touched, it would cling like maggots to flesh, burning until nothing remained but ashes.

Just as the fire was about to engulf the fierce ghosts, a blade of sword energy, suffused with pale moonlight, cleaved through the air and split the flames apart.

In this moment of peril, Wang Zhenling finally intervened.

He had received Lord Hu’s generous hospitality, and was being sent home in the carriage. Now someone sought to seize the Hu family’s carriage—by all rights and reason, Wang Zhenling could not turn a blind eye.

If it were his own carriage, perhaps he could endure it. But to see Lord Hu’s carriage attacked, even by a powerful foe, he could only grit his teeth and step forward.

This was the path of a true man: to act where he should, and refrain where he must.

Wang Zhenling already sensed the messenger was far stronger than himself. He had hoped that his strike would extinguish the ghostfire, but it only split it apart. With a casual wave of the three-section staff, the messenger gathered the ghostfire back into a single mass.

The messenger glanced over, frowning. “That strike carried the power of the sun. Are you a living soul? You’re not of the local deity’s household, are you?”

His sharp eye impressed Wang Zhenling. The strike he’d just made drew upon a solar power technique he cultivated, the Sun-Slaying Sword, which paired well with his lunar technique, the Moon-Cutting Blade. The two could even be merged into the Yin-Yang Demon-Banishing Sword. But Wang Zhenling had not yet mastered the combined form; he’d only cultivated each separately to a modest degree.

Had his Sun-Slaying Sword reached its peak, even without combining the two, that single strike would have seriously wounded the Heavenly Dao messenger.

Now, Wang Zhenling was secretly alarmed. With a respectful gesture, he said, “I am Wang Zhenling, merely a guest of Lord Hu. Lord Hu kindly offered me a ride home. If you intend to seize the carriage, I cannot allow it.”

“Cannot allow it?” The messenger, wielding his staff, sneered. “And what if you disagree? You’re just a youngster shielded by a spirit pearl, not even at the stage of Qi Consolidation…”

Qi Consolidation marks the final realm of the Qi Refining stage, where true spirit emerges. Not the cuteness of youth, but the germination of spiritual power: Qi Accumulation, Qi Extension, Qi Descent, Qi Stabilization, and Qi Consolidation—the five stages of Qi Refining. It is the process of refining essence into qi, and qi into spirit. Step by step, reaching Qi Consolidation, true qi nourishes the soul, strengthening it to enter the Out-of-Body phase.

At that stage, the soul would be far stronger than Wang Zhenling’s. But Wang Zhenling relied on the power of the spirit pearl and jade elixir, venturing out-of-body before his soul was fully strengthened. Thus, his soul lacked the strength of a methodical cultivator.

Still, this did not mean Wang Zhenling resorted to trickery; rather, it testified to the power of the Primordial Dragon-Tiger Elixir and Thunder Law. Wang Zhenling had simply begun his out-of-body journey a bit early. With his Sun-Moon Body Refining method, drawing upon the radiance of sun and moon, he could easily catch up to those who followed the orthodox path.

Of course, the messenger could not have known this.

He spoke with no courtesy, but as he was about to finish, something struck him: “Wang Zhenling? Are you of the Wang clan of Danling?”

Wang Zhenling flushed with embarrassment, having been called out for his lack of cultivation, but like a tiger, even fallen, he refused to bow. He answered firmly, “I am.”

Suddenly, the messenger threw back his head and laughed thrice. “Very well! For the sake of your Wang clan of Danling, I will let this matter rest today.”

With that, he turned and departed, vanishing into the night-shrouded forest.

What was this sudden turn of events?

Wang Zhenling was baffled.

He had braced himself for the worst, only to find the Heavenly Dao envoy had simply left.