Chapter 293: Calamity Qi

Chen Luo walked down the bustling market street, its vibrant atmosphere typical of a lively town. Dressed in a simple blue scholar’s robe, he stood out like a Master from the city. Laborers instinctively stepped aside as he approached, and some even offered respectful smiles when their eyes met his.

In the Heavenly Eye Kingdom, scholars held an esteemed position. Chen Luo was currently posing as a failed Scholar, but with his skills, securing a place on the kingdom’s official register had been effortless.

“Mr. Chen, my father asked me to bring you this meat.”

A young boy with a tuft of hair on his head carefully presented a slab of pork belly. He bowed respectfully, his fidgeting hips betraying the practice his parents had instilled in him.

Literacy was the key to social mobility in the Heavenly Eye Kingdom. Nearly ninety percent of the population was illiterate, and opportunities for education were tightly controlled by the elite. Books were monopolized, making literacy a rare privilege for common children. For these children, learning to read offered a precious chance to rise above their station.

This was Butcher Li’s son.

Looking at the chubby-faced boy, Chen Luo couldn’t help but recall Huwa, the energetic boy from his hometown in Yue Country who had insisted on learning Immortal Cultivation from him.

So many years had passed; Huwa must be an old man by now. When Chen Luo left the Great Tomb of Yue, he had left Crippled Ma and the others a supply of Qi Blood Pills. Given the tomb’s unique environment, they should have lived to a ripe old age without any trouble.

“Thank your father for me,” Chen Luo said with a smile as he accepted the meat. As a poor scholar, he naturally wouldn’t refuse such a gift.

“Can I call you ‘Teacher’?” Li Fugui’s eyes lit up as soon as Chen Luo accepted the meat.

“Of course!” Chen Luo chuckled, patting the boy’s head. Li Fugui was Butcher Li’s third son, with two older sisters. As the only male heir in the family, his parents had poured all their hopes and resources into him.

“Greetings, Teacher,” Li Fugui said smartly, bowing respectfully. He was remarkably bright, likely due to his parents’ teachings, but for a seven or eight-year-old to apply such lessons so effectively was already far ahead of most of his peers.

“Prepare paper and a brush tomorrow and come find me. Do you know where I’m staying?” Chen Luo asked.

Chen Luo didn’t visit Butcher Li himself. The butcher had sent his son instead, likely fearing his own awkwardness and thinking that a rough laborer like himself might inadvertently commit a breach of etiquette by barging in unannounced. This was a common mindset among the lower classes. They harbored deep-seated self-esteem issues but held an almost irrational faith in their children, believing their offspring to be the smartest and most talented in the world.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Chen lives in the alley around the corner,” Li Fugui replied, his face beaming. He hadn’t expected the scholar to be so approachable.

After bidding farewell to Mr. Chen, Li Fugui raced home, eager to share the news with his parents. He knew they would be overjoyed. With their approval, he might even get braised pork belly for dinner! While meat was a rare treat for most families, Li Fugui’s father was a butcher. After finishing his work each day, he always set aside a little for his son. The problem was the high cost of salt, oil, soy sauce, and vinegar; normally, the family simply ate plain boiled meat.

Chen Luo pushed open his gate.

The courtyard was immaculately swept.

Having lived in Cloudsoar County for six months, he had gradually integrated into the local community. The neighbors all knew him now—the failed Scholar who had taken up residence in the corner alley, rumored to be descended from high-ranking officials.

Given his background, even the local ruffians in Cloudsoar County dared not cause Chen Luo any trouble. To maintain his cover, he rented a calligraphy and painting stall outside the City God Temple, earning his living by selling his artwork.

Just as Gu He had taught him with the Worldly Immersion Method, Chen Luo now truly lived the life of an impoverished scholar, meticulously managing his meager resources. Even the dilapidated ancestral home he resided in lacked the funds for repairs, its leaky roof a constant reminder of his poverty.

Sitting cross-legged in his room, Chen Luo closed his eyes once more.

As he circulated the Demonic Heart Art, the surrounding flames coalesced like wisps of smoke, slowly strengthening the Pseudo Core within his body. Over the past half-year, the golden ethereal projection enveloping his Pseudo Core had grown to cover seventy-five percent of its surface. Practicing here posed no concerns for him; every night, he harvested Demonic Hearts.

Unlike the Immortal Cultivators on the mountains, ordinary people who had their Demonic Hearts extracted would at worst fall ill for a time before recovering. They wouldn’t suffer the cultivator’s fate of demonic possession, where years of painstaking cultivation could be destroyed in an instant. Chen Luo had no intention of emulating the demonic cultivators of Guoshan County, who had refined entire cities into cultivation resources.

Such a short-sighted scheme was the folly of the most foolish demonic cultivators.

True masters of the craft understood the importance of sustainable development.

After half a month of practice, Chen Luo could already sense the difference between the Demonic Heart Art when guided by the Demonic Heart Ancestor’s brain and when practiced without it. They were essentially two distinct cultivation techniques. Chen Luo wondered if this was common among cultivators from the Upper Realm, but many details of the Demonic Heart Ancestor’s cultivation methods differed significantly from those he had previously encountered. The rhythm of breathing and Qi Refining, for instance, followed a cyclical pattern, rising and falling like the tides, rather than maintaining a steady flow. It felt akin to how some people gain weight easily from eating the same food, while others can eat endlessly without gaining an ounce—the key difference lying in their digestive efficiency and nutrient absorption.

Multicolored wisps of smoke and dust swirled around Chen Luo, enveloping him completely and making him resemble a Demon Lord shrouded in mist. This was the perspective of the Demonic Heart Art; to ordinary eyes, he simply appeared to be dozing on his bed.

Demonic Hearts arise from the mind; obsessions know neither good nor evil.

Within the External Brain, the Demonic Heart Ancestor conceived a thought. From his perspective, Chen Luo’s application of Demonic Hearts remained rudimentary, falling far short of his expectations.

Guided by this realization, Chen Luo readjusted the frequency of his cultivation technique.

A striking flame materialized before him.

This time, he beheld a Demonic Heart flame unlike any he had encountered before—a radiant golden hue.

Tribulation Qi? But there are no cultivators undergoing Tribulation Transcendence here. Where could this Tribulation Qi be coming from?

The thought flashed through Chen Luo’s mind, yet he continued to approach the golden flame. Such a concentrated surge of Demonic Heart Power, if absorbed, would provide the final accumulation needed before his own Tribulation Transcendence.

His consciousness expanded, and the familiar sensation of distortion washed over him.

Tap… tap…

The sound of footsteps echoed in his ears. A man in a black gentleman’s suit paced before him, his black leather shoes impeccably polished and accented with a matching belt—clearly the attire of a wealthy landowner.

“Brother Chen, won’t you say something?” the man finally asked, after a moment of silence. Noticing Chen Luo’s continued stillness in the chair, he couldn’t help but speak.

Chen Luo remained silent.

He was still observing his surroundings. This fragment of Tribulation Qi was remarkably complete, almost comparable to Elder FusionSpirit’s Demonic Heart Tribulation. Chen Luo struggled to comprehend what kind of “desire” could generate such potent Demonic Heart Power in a place devoid of cultivators undergoing Tribulation Transcendence.

The most likely explanation was superposition. The Demonic Heart Ancestor’s adjusted frequency allowed Chen Luo to better utilize the Scattered Demonic Heart.

This place wasn’t the obsession of a single person, but rather the collective obsession of several, perhaps even dozens, of individuals. Only such a convergence could account for the bizarre scene before him.

The unfamiliar wisp of Tribulation Qi was likely the result of a cultivation technique—a technique used to attract Tribulation Qi.

“Those two little bastards did this together. You don’t expect me to take the fall alone, do you?” the Gentry in Splendid Robes demanded, his expression darkening at Chen Luo’s continued silence.

“Brother Wang, there’s no need to rush,” Chen Luo replied. “This isn’t the first time these little rascals have pulled such a stunt. At worst, we’ll lose some face and apologize to Master Cen later.”

Chen Luo had already pieced together his identity within this realm of shared obsession.

Here, he was a father to one of the mischievous children involved. The day before yesterday, his son, along with Patriarch Wang’s boy and a few other older kids, had set off a firecracker while Master Cen was using the latrine.

The half-centenarian Master Cen was so startled that he slipped and fell into the latrine pit. If the servants hadn’t discovered him in time, he might have drowned in the filth. Naturally, there was a furious reckoning afterward. The ringleaders, the children of the Chen and Wang families, were seized by the stewards and beaten half to death.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Master Cen was furious and threatened to report the two boys to the Academy, stripping them of their right to study. In this era, losing the right to education meant their prospects for advancement were irrevocably ruined.

“We’re bound to lose face,” Patriarch Wang said, his expression softening slightly as Chen Luo spoke. “My only fear is that Master Cen won’t let this go. After all, he holds an official scholarly rank.”

“It all boils down to money, Brother Wang. I’ll head back now to gather the funds.” Chen Luo rose and clasped his hands in a respectful bow.

Having experienced the world manifested by his Demonic Heart Art, Chen Luo maintained a detached perspective. Unlike the others, he felt no sting at parting with money he had “toiled a lifetime” to earn.

“You little bastards!”

The mere mention of a large sum of money sent a sharp pang of pain through Patriarch Wang’s heart. His hands itched with the urge to beat those brats within an inch of their lives. He vowed to return home and give them the beating they deserved.

Leaving the Wang family estate, Chen Luo walked down the street.

The surrounding scenery was eerily realistic: gray brick walls, cyan stone paving, and a cold, tangible touch when his fingers brushed against them. Were it not for the effects of his cultivation technique, it would be nearly impossible to believe this world had been conjured from a person’s Demonic Heart.

“Young Master, are we really going to give Master Cen that much money?”

The Old Butler, walking beside Chen Luo, couldn’t help but ask, “Besides the money, we’re also giving away several plots of fertile land. For a landowning family like ours, land deeds are our lifeblood. To resolve this crisis, Master is jeopardizing the very foundation of the Chen family.”

“The money buys us security,” Chen Luo replied calmly as he boarded the carriage.

From his detached perspective, he understood the situation clearly. The trouble the children had caused wasn’t trivial, but it wasn’t catastrophic either. The Master who had been injured by the explosion was a poor Scholar, holding only the lowest official rank. To the local gentry, a mere Scholar mattered little. However, this Master had dedicated his life to teaching, and among his former students were several influential figures, including one who held an official position in the county government. If this official chose to make trouble, the Chen family might not be able to withstand it, for “wealth doesn’t contend with power.”

Having assessed the situation swiftly, Chen Luo had made the most rational decision in the shortest possible time.

After arranging the apology, Chen Luo returned to Chen Manor by carriage.

As the current head of the Chen family, he knew that his only son, Chen Yuanzhi, had been the one who had instigated the firecracker incident the previous night.

“Master, you’re finally back!”

“Master, Yuanzhi is still just a child…”