The mist has not yet dissipated, but the morning bell rings. Chu Xuan stepped on the bell to the dining hall, and along the way, the outer disciples looked at him like suddenly glowing night pearls - envy, jealousy, wariness, all. Last night's "Ice Lotus against Frost" had been exaggerated and spread all over the place by the gossips:
"Have you heard about it? That kid from the mortal world of the C Academy, with one move of the Cold Star Sword, froze Zhao Tianlei's wind sword into ice chips!"
"Elder Ling himself appears to protect his disciple, every step is like a lotus, and Elder Li's face turns blue!"
The four words "Disciple of the Immortal Lord" seemed to have wings and flew through every nook and cranny of the outer door overnight. Wherever Chu Xuan passed, the murmur rose and fell, some bowed far away, some pressed against the wall to make way, and some jogged after him, offered him hot spiritual porridge, and laughed with great attentions:
"Senior Brother Chu, drink it while it's hot. I specially added more spirit honey!" "
Chu Xuan was not sentimental either. He took the porridge, smiled and thanked him, but his heart was as clear as a mirror - human warmth and coldness were always linked to strength. Before last night, he was a poor boy of the lowest rank of the miscellaneous spirits; After this day, he became a highly sought-after disciple of the immortal Lord. The big pot outside the door was shallow and shallow, and the wind was turning faster than a book.
It's more lively in the dining room. As soon as Chu Xuan stepped in the door, the originally noisy hall fell silent for three breaths in an instant, then exploded with a "buzz", and glances came all at once like countless searchlights. He did not change his expression, carrying a bowl of porridge to find a seat. Wherever he passed, his disciples rose up to make room for the best window seats, and some wiped their benches with their sleeves, laughing obsequiously:
"Brother Chu, sit here, ventilation, good view!"
Chu Xuan grinned and sat down calmly. Just as he had taken a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, a round face came over from the opposite side, smiling so hard that teeth were not seen: "Brother Chu, I'm Wang Duofu, a fifth rank of mixed spirits, skilled in spirit plant cultivation. If you need spirit grass in the future, just tell me!"
Before he could finish, another tall, thin man pushed in beside him, holding a brand-new outer robe embroidered with gold thread: "Brother Chu, this is the 'Cold Star Robe' that I have sewn by hand, which matches your sword intent. Please try to see if it fits?"
For a moment, the dining hall turned into a fair, with all kinds of spiritual porridge, spiritual robes, spiritual elixirs, and spiritual wine piled up in front of Chu Xuan. He accepted them all with a smile, but in his heart, as if keeping a record, he marked the price of every favor - the rule of survival for the outer gate: the hand that takes is short, the mouth that takes is soft, but the hand that takes is clear, and then it must be beautiful.
In the corner, there were also a few gloomy glances staring at him like venomous snakes. Zhao Tianlei's "die-hard", Liu Kui of the sixth rank of the Miscellaneous spirit, was cursing in a low voice: "You have succeeded!" At the end of the month, let's see how Brother Zhao destroys his bones!"
A few people at the table chimed in, their voices very low, but they couldn't hide their resentment. Chu Xuan seemed to feel something, turned his head to look, and his gaze met Liu Kui, who instinctively shrank his neck, felt embarrassed again, and glared back with a stiff neck. Chu Xuan just smiled, raised his cup to a distant toast, as if greeting an old friend, as if saying: Don't worry, queue up, everyone has a share.
When the porridge was finished and a table was filled with gifts, Chu Xuan rose, bowed his hands around him, and said in a clear voice, "Your kindness, Chu Xuan appreciates. At the end of the month, there will be a grand competition. Whoever competes with me will give me a whetstone, and I will accept it all!"
The words are full of tension, but spoken openly and freely. The dining hall was quiet at first, then exploded with a buzz. Some were excited, some were worried, and many more were ready to take action - the outer gate competition, which is the only chance for the carp to leap over the dragon gate, now that a "disciple of the immortal Lord" has emerged, whether to fawn or stomp on him, it is an excellent springboard!
Chu Xuan stepped out of the door, and the sun was shining on his shoulder, like a silver edge. He narrowed his eyes to look further up the mountain, where Zhao Tianlei was standing beside Elder Li, his gaze 阴鸷 like a venomous snake waiting for the right moment.
"See you at the end of the month." Chu Xuan said softly, his voice scattered in the wind, like a declaration of war, like an invitation.
...
At the back of the courtyard, Chu Xuan piled all the gifts he had just received into the woodshed, and then turned and went deeper. The silver dragon swirled in the dantian, its whiskers entwined with sword marks, and with each breath it pushed the seven layers of the qi refining barrier with a "click" sound. He needed purer coldness and sharper whetstones.
In the depths of the ice valley, Ling Qingxue sat cross-legged on the ice platform. With a light touch of his fingertips, a wisp of ice-soul sword intent, ten times more refined than before, quietly sank into the mouth of the valley. She wanted to see where the boy's limit lay.
Chu Xuan stepped into the valley entrance, his feet chilled, and the ice mirror emerged, like a broad road leading to the unknown. He grinned, pointed his toes, and shot down the ice mirror like an arrow --
"At the end of the month's arena, I want everyone to know -"
"Disciple of the Immortal Lord, not a sign, it's strength!"
At the end of the ice mirror, the cold wind was like a knife, but it couldn't cut the fire in the young man's eyes. Chu Xuan made his way all the way to the heart of the valley. The "sword test path" formed by the ice spirit and sword intent had all been swallowed into the belly of the silver dragon. The cold star seed in the dantian had grown from a fingernail into a soybean, shining brightly and illuminating the meridians like silver threads. The barrier at the peak of the seventh level of qi Refinement was so thin that it was like a cicada's wing.
"One more bite and it will break out of the cocoon." He licked his lips, like a drunkard, and looked deeper into the ice valley - where the coldness was so thick that it couldn't be dispelled, and the dark blue mist condensed into substance like an ice wall, behind which was the core of Ling Qingxue's daily practice.
"Borrow some cold air, senior should not be stingy." He grinned, pointed his toes, and, like a swallow, slid along the ice wall into the mist. The silver dragon leads the way, and as the dragon's whiskers pass, the cold mist automatically splits into a slit as wide as a subject making way for the king.
Behind the fog was a natural ice platform, ten zhang in size, with a cold jade cushion in the center. On the cushion, Ling Qingxue sat cross-legged, her white dress blending with the snow, her long eyelashes covered with frost, and her breath filled with cold air, like an ice-sculpted goddess.
Chu Xuan paused for a moment, gathered his breath, and approached his prey like a hunter, landing on the thickest part of the ice with each step to avoid disturbing the "snow sculpture". He had a clear target - on the left side of the cold jade mat, there was an "ice eye" the size of a fist, but it was constantly giving off pure cold air, which was exactly the "main course" that the silver dragon had been longing for.
Ten zhang, five zhang, three zhang... Less than two zhang away from the ice eye, Ling Qingxue's long eyelashes suddenly quivered, like butterfly wings shaking snow, and a wisp of ice soul sword intent quietly awoke, pointing straight to Chu Xuan's brow. The young man, with his hair all over his body, rose to his feet with a whoosh, but was forced to stop and bowed his hands in a low voice: "Senior, I'll borrow some cold air and promise not to disturb your clear dream."
Before he could finish his words, the sword intent had stopped an inch in front of his eyebrows, as if held down by an invisible hand. Ling Qingxue opened her eyes, and in her eyes was the icy lake and broken jade, reflecting the slightly embarrassed smile of the young man. She lifted her finger lightly, her sword intent turned into fine ice crystals, rustling to the ground, her voice as faint as snow falling silently: "Borrow it, take it by skill."
Chu Xuan was overjoyed and bowed his hands: "Thank you, senior!" He sat cross-legged, and the silver dragon burst out from his dantian, its mouth wide open, and it sucked hard into the ice eye --
"Boom!"
The cold air, like a tide, rushed in through the dragon's mouth, causing the cold star seed to tremble violently, cracking a fine line on its surface, but not a breakage, but a transformation - in the crack, a brilliant starlight emerged, like an ice cocoon breaking out of its shell, about to transform into a butterfly.
Ling Qingxue's eyes moved slightly, her plain hand waved, and a wisp of ice soul sword intent, ten times more refined than the ice eye, quietly disappeared into the body of the silver dragon. She wanted to see how far this little dragon, formed from the cold, could grow.
Nourished by the sword intent, the silver dragon's body swelled up, its scales shone with a deep blue luster, and its horns branched out like a young true dragon. It raised its head and let out a low murmur. The murmur was not loud, but it made the ice table tremble slightly. The Cold star crystal seed "puh" shattered into specks of light and turned into a tiny star core, hanging in the middle of the dantian. With each rotation, it cast brilliant starlight, pushing Chu Xuan's cultivation to rise steadily --
"The eighth level of qi refinement, break!"
The star core was just formed, the silver dragon transformed, Chu Xuan's energy swelled all over his body, his sleeves moved without wind, a cold star on his brow was faintly visible, like a third eye, coldly looking down upon the world.
Ling Qingxue's long eyelashes quivered slightly, and at last a ripple appeared in her eyes: Breaking through two layers in three days, the primordial spirit is indeed unreasonable. With a light tap of her fingertip, an ice-blue sword pattern slipped into Chu Xuan's sleeve like a seal --
"From today on, you are my true disciple, and whoever in the outer gate dares to touch you will touch me."
The young man rose and bowed solemnly to the ice platform, his voice low but clear: "Senior, rest assured. At the end of the month, I'll put on a big show for you."
He turned and strode out of the mist, his back being drawn long by the moonlight, like a sword just drawn from its scabbard, sharp and cold. The silver dragon swirled in his dantian, rolling the newly acquired star core, and with each breath he exhaled an unbreakable bond with the forbidden land.