Chapter 4: The Frigid Pond’s Secret

Azhuang noticed his little junior brother had a good appetite today. His usually dull, yellowish eyes now sparkled, reflecting a vibrant light, filling Azhuang with joy.

He secretly resolved to secure a delicious steamed bun for his junior brother every day from now on to nourish his body.

Shui Jingxuan was unaware of Azhuang’s thoughts; otherwise, he would have burst out laughing. That coarse steamed bun, barely better than pig slop, was actually considered a tonic here.

It truly underscored the harshness of the Demonic Cult’s living conditions, a place where even “impoverished mountains and treacherous waters” felt insufficient to describe its plight.

With Axi’s original memories, Shui Jingxuan wasn’t afraid of revealing himself. He listened to Azhuang recount some amusing anecdotes from martial arts training, casually exchanging a few words to humor him.

As dusk deepened into night, the room became utterly dark, rendering everything invisible. Ordinary apprentice quarters offered no ‘luxuries’ like candles or oil lamps.

Hearing his junior brother’s faint yawn, Azhuang fell silent. He helped him lie down, tucked him into bed, and then climbed onto his own cot to sleep.

Perhaps due to the day’s arduous martial arts training, Azhuang fell into a deep slumber the moment his head touched the pillow, faint snores escaping his nostrils.

Shui Jingxuan, however, opened a pair of eyes that gleamed like frigid stars. He threw back the covers, slowly sat up, and silently approached Azhuang’s bedside, nudging him twice.

Disturbed from his peaceful dreams, Azhuang grumbled impatiently, rolled over, buried his head under the quilt, and sank into an even deeper sleep.

Seeing this, Shui Jingxuan smiled faintly. He groped his way out of the room, deftly avoiding the patrolling guards, and headed deeper into the valley.

In Axi’s memories, a frigid pond lay deep within the valley. Its water was so bitingly cold and carried a metallic astringency that it was unsuitable for both drinking and bathing.

Consequently, the clansmen disdained it, and few ever visited.

This secluded, rarely trodden place was perfectly suited for Shui Jingxuan to cultivate his abilities.

It took him nearly half an hour to reach the frigid pond. Shui Jingxuan was already drenched in sweat and panting heavily, sitting on the ground. This body was still far too weak and desperately needed tempering.

Without further delay, after his breathing steadied, Shui Jingxuan systematically shed his clothes.

He folded them neatly and placed them on the dry grass by the pond, then walked naked into the deeper waters until he was completely submerged, vanishing amidst the dense water plants.

Indeed, he intended to trigger his ability within the pond. As a water-element ability user, he could breathe freely underwater, eliminating any fear of drowning.

Moreover, being concealed by the dense water plants in the pond meant he needn’t worry about anyone suddenly intruding and discovering his secret.

Sitting cross-legged amidst the soft water plants, Shui Jingxuan slowly activated a mass of aquamarine energy within his dantian, guiding it to circulate through the meridians throughout his body.

An immediate, familiar agony surged through him. He frowned, gritted his teeth, and exhaled several bubbles from his nostrils and mouth, causing ripples to spread across the calm surface of the water.

Wherever the aquamarine energy passed, his blood began to boil, and even the marrow within his bones stirred restlessly.

One by one, black impurities were drawn from his blood and bone marrow by the pure power of water, passing through blood vessel walls, penetrating muscle layers, and finally being forced out through his pores.

Though this was his second time enduring such excruciating pain, Shui Jingxuan’s teeth still gnashed loudly.

His skin soon exuded a layer of sticky, foul-smelling black liquid, which was rapidly diluted by the flowing pond water and slowly diffused.

The fish that had been curiously circling Shui Jingxuan were repelled by the liquid and scattered in all directions.

He directed the blue energy through his body for several cycles until no more impurities were expelled through his skin. Only then did Shui Jingxuan cease, slowly retracting his power and compressing the energy back into his dantian.

Emerging from the pond bottom, Shui Jingxuan, brimming with renewed vigor, turned his palm upward. He channeled his ability, conjuring a water droplet the size of a pellet out of thin air.

He frowned, intensifying his ability. The water droplet remained pellet-sized, but its form gradually elongated, then solidified, becoming thinner and whiter, emitting tendrils of chilling mist. Finally, it stabilized into an exceptionally sharp ice needle.

Using the faint internal energy cultivated within Axi’s body, he flicked the ice needle. It struck a nearby tree trunk with a thud, yet Shui Jingxuan was deeply dissatisfied with his power.

He recalled that during his first use of his ability, he could condense a water sphere the size of a fist, and instantly unleash hundreds of ice needles.

The difference between then and now was like heaven and earth. In this world, devoid of zombies and mutated beasts, water-element crystal nuclei that could significantly enhance his ability were nowhere to be found.

His path of cultivation was fraught with even greater difficulties. By adulthood, possessing even three-tenths of his previous life’s strength would be nothing short of a miracle.

‘It seems that to live better, I cannot rely solely on my ability; martial arts must not be neglected either,’ he mused.

‘Fortunately, this body has been tempered, its meridians widened, and its physique has become incredibly resilient, even possessing self-healing capabilities. I should be able to cultivate profound martial arts.’ Shui Jingxuan quickly regained his composure, picking up his neatly folded clothes and putting them on one by one.

His gaze fell upon his skin, as pristine and white as jade, smooth and delicate like top-grade mutton-fat jade. He paused, a slight frown creasing his brow.

Life originated from water, and the human body was ninety percent water. Water-element cultivation techniques were not only powerful but also thoroughly tempered the body.

Yet, one aspect left Shui Jingxuan deeply dissatisfied: its beautifying effect.

Once a water-element ability user activated their energy, every component of their body would achieve perfect balance.

This perfection manifested from the inside out; externally, it meant more refined facial features, a golden ratio physique, and skin that was smoother and fairer. It was truly like jade polished by years of water, its brilliance impossible to conceal.

It was precisely because of these external changes that the previous Shui Jingxuan had suffered greatly. Now, in this new life, he no longer felt the apprehension and revulsion of his past.

Any slight discomfort was quickly cast aside. At present, he was merely a child, and no one would take an interest in him.

Moreover, having lived two lives, though he had fallen from the clouds to the mud, his accumulation from his previous life meant that even if his ability wasn’t powerful, he still possessed numerous methods for self-preservation.

Killing was an essential skill for those who had survived the apocalypse; even a four or five-year-old child knew to sever a zombie’s head with a single strike, and understood which blood vessels to sever to cause someone to expire within thirty seconds.

Recalling the myriad experiences of his previous life, no matter how painful or unbearable, they were an invaluable treasure to the current Shui Jingxuan.

A pleasant smile graced his jade-like countenance as he tidied himself. He then returned to his room, moving several times faster than he had come, and quietly lay back down on his bed.

Two hours later, the faint crow of a rooster echoed. The inky black sky gradually softened, painted with a pale, warm orange—the dawn cresting the mountain ridge, piercing through the clouds, arriving from the distant east.

Azhuang rolled over, blearily opening his eyes. He craned his neck to peer out the window at the approaching daylight. Seeing that it would soon be fully bright, he instantly sobered.

He hurriedly got out of bed to fetch water and wash up, eager to secure breakfast for Axi and himself before heading to their master for training.

Hearing Azhuang’s movements, the lightly sleeping Shui Jingxuan immediately became alert. He sat up in bed, about to put on his shoes, but was stopped by Azhuang, who entered with a basin of water.

“Why are you up? You’re still sick, quickly lie down!” Azhuang urgently set down the basin, walked over, and pressed Shui Jingxuan’s small frame back onto the bed. He then wrung out a cloth and began to wipe his face.

For the half-month Axi had been ill, Azhuang had cared for him in this exact manner, a habit now ingrained.

His small face was vigorously scrubbed by Azhuang, almost as if a layer of skin would be rubbed off, leaving it bright red. Shui Jingxuan’s cheeks and temples throbbed in pain.

He quickly reached out to block Azhuang’s next assault, speaking awkwardly, “Senior Brother, I can do it myself. I slept well last night and sweated profusely. My illness is gone. I’ll go train with you today; if I don’t, my martial arts will become rusty.”

Eight-tenths of his words were true, though what he had ‘sweated’ out last night was not sweat, but grime.

Azhuang froze upon hearing his words, then scrutinized his face carefully.

Although still gaunt, his previously sallow and withered skin was now supple and fair, and his once dull and murky phoenix eyes sparkled with spirit, reflecting a vibrant light in his dark pupils.

He looked full of energy, entirely unlike his listless state of yesterday. He had indeed recovered completely.

Azhuang was overjoyed. He handed the cloth to Shui Jingxuan, repeatedly exclaiming his approval.

After watching his junior brother finish washing, Azhuang led him to the mess hall. Using his sturdy physique and hard fists, he intimidated several weaker fellow disciples, snatching two bowls of thin white porridge.

The two slurped it down quickly, wiped their mouths with their sleeves, and hurried to report to their master for practice.

Shui Jingxuan was determined to perform well before his master, hoping to earn his favor and learn some profound martial arts. This would allow him to quickly establish himself within the cult and secure a place of refuge for himself.

Thus, he endured the glares of the crowd, squeezing to the very front and standing beside Azhuang. Other senior and junior brothers, indignant, tried to pull him back, but were met with his icy gaze.

Azhuang also raised a fist towards them, causing them to abandon their intentions.

Their master was exceptionally late today. Everyone stood for nearly two quarters of an hour before seeing him slowly approach from around the corner, hands clasped behind his back, accompanied by a girl of about ten.

Though young, the girl possessed an adult-like beauty. Her head was adorned with numerous tiny braids, each interwoven with pearls that sparkled like a myriad of stars, dazzling and making it difficult to look directly at her.

She wore a flowing red and white gauze dress, a belt encrusted with blood-colored gems cinched at her waist. From the side of the belt, a silver dongxiao hung from a red cord, and she wore golden embroidered shoes with phoenix patterns.

She walked with an elegant and unhurried grace, her noble and aloof aura starkly out of place in the impoverished and treacherous Demonic Cult.

Upon seeing the girl, all the disciples’ eyes lit up, and they salivated. Someone couldn’t help but gasp, “Heavens, it’s the Wolf Girl! She’s truly beautiful!”

Wolf Girl? This title also felt inexplicably familiar. Shui Jingxuan frowned, looking directly at the girl, searching his memories for her identity.

He found it. This girl was none other than the Demonic Cult Master Ji Wushuang’s only direct disciple. Abandoned by her parents at birth, she was raised by a pack of wolves.

At four years old, Ji Wushuang brought her back. Even after her return, the wolf pack remained reluctant to leave her, following her daily and refusing to be driven away, earning her the nickname ‘Wolf Girl’.

Because of her unique bone structure, she was an excellent martial arts prodigy, and her outstanding appearance further contributed to her being doted upon by Ji Wushuang since childhood.

Her status within the Demonic Cult was very high; at such a young age, Ji Wushuang had already designated her as the future Chief Protector of the Demonic Cult, truly a position of one person above ten thousand.

If Ji Wushuang were to abdicate, she would undoubtedly be the next Cult Master.

No wonder even their master, a senior elder of the cult, treated her with utmost respect, daring not to show the slightest neglect.

After gathering the information in his mind, Shui Jingxuan frowned, the inexplicable sense of familiarity growing stronger. ‘This otherworld must hold more mysteries, which I simply can’t recall at the moment,’ he mused inwardly.

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