Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Rising Heartfire

Compared to Kong Huai’s sense of loss, He Lang felt nothing so profound. He saw things clearly—what loved Kong Huai was the original soul, not him. Therefore, this tangled relationship had nothing to do with him. He had no reason to cling to it. To He Lang, Kong Huai was just an ordinary character in this world.

He had thought Kong Huai to be cold-natured and ambitious, unaffected by distracting emotions. But now it seemed that the always decisive Kong Huai was hesitating?

Moreover, his behavior over the past few days had grown quite strange. He visited He Lang’s room daily, and if ignored, he would steadfastly wait outside, cultivating on the spot, forcing He Lang to reluctantly invite him in.

“You’re no longer a new disciple. No matter how much I teach you, it won’t make a difference. You should pursue your own path now.” He Lang spoke, then turned to sit cross-legged in meditation, not even looking up.

Kong Huai’s expression darkened slightly, tinged with disappointment, though it seemed he had expected this. He didn’t give up, instead showing an unusual display of gentleness. Step by step, he approached He Lang’s bed, and like the youth he once was, leaned over He Lang’s lap, murmuring, “Is it because Master has a new disciple now? So this old one no longer matters?”

Kong Huai’s sudden closeness caught He Lang off guard. When he felt the warmth on his lap, his body stiffened. This intimate and compliant gesture—it felt unsettlingly natural, as if rehearsed countless times.

Just as He Lang was about to make Kong Huai rise, three knocks sounded at the door.

The two froze, and the door was briskly pushed open.

“Master, would you like a meal?”

A voice preceded the person as Jiang Hanzheng entered with a tray of food, his tone bright and cheerful, carrying the clear youthfulness of a young man.

But as he stepped into the inner room and saw the two nestled together, his voice abruptly cut off. He stood stunned for a moment, pupils contracting, his mind going blank. Unsure how to react, the tray in his hands almost slipped, but he hastily steadied it with fumbling movements before lowering his head and placing the dishes on the table in silence.

Kong Huai’s expression instantly turned cold, secretly cursing.

After so much effort to get close to his master and barely exchanging a few words, this boy had the audacity to interrupt.

Casting a sharp glance at the food Jiang Hanzheng had brought, Kong Huai’s mood soured further, his tone harsh. “A meal? It seems your cultivation has been in vain.”

As a cultivator, one should know that their bodies had already transcended the need for mortal sustenance. Eating like a commoner only burdened the body and hindered cultivation.

Such an ignorant and unrefined person—how was he worthy of staying by Master’s side? Kong Huai frowned slightly, his disdain barely concealed. “Master, eating grains with someone of such low cultivation will only taint your spiritual energy.”

“But I am willing,” He Lang replied indifferently. He gently pushed Kong Huai off his lap, rose, and went to the table, pulling Jiang Hanzheng to sit with him.

Kong Huai froze. In that moment, he remembered that his master was no longer the same person who would unconditionally indulge him. He had spoken thoughtlessly and incurred displeasure.

What Kong Huai didn’t know was that the master and disciple had long since developed the habit of occasionally cooking and eating spiritual grains together, their lifestyle barely different from that of ordinary people.

As someone who adhered strictly to the principles of cultivation, Kong Huai couldn’t comprehend the pleasures of the palate or their habits. This made him feel even more like an outsider.

Unwilling to fall behind, Kong Huai momentarily set aside the dignity of a cultivator and joined them at the table, cautiously sampling the food as if facing a formidable foe. For some reason, He Lang found this amusing and watched him eat with interest.

Jiang Hanzheng glanced at his master, then at his senior brother, whose face showed a rare hint of joy. Hanging his head, he chewed absentmindedly on the tip of his chopsticks, his spirits dampened. His appetite was gone, his lighthearted mood from before entering the room completely dispelled. His mind was still preoccupied with the image of his senior brother leaning on their master’s lap.

He remembered how the two had exchanged gazes, so intimate. Was this why Master had forgotten even him, focusing solely on his senior brother?

For years, his master had rarely interacted closely with others. He had never imagined anyone could get so close to him. He also hadn’t realized how jarring such a scene would be.

Jiang Hanzheng himself had leaned on Master a few times, remembering vividly how soothing the cool warmth of his touch had been, how pleasant the faint scent on his neck and robes was. But in his pride over those moments of closeness and favor, he had forgotten that they weren’t exclusive to him. They could be shared—or perhaps they had always belonged to his senior brother, the true first.

His mind replayed the conversations of fellow disciples, speaking of how remarkable his senior brother had been in the past, and how close Master had been to him. A wave of frustration and bitterness surged within Jiang Hanzheng.

He tried to remind himself to be broad-minded, to become a true cultivator unmoved by honor or disgrace. But no matter how well he understood these principles, he couldn’t help feeling deeply upset.

The despondent aura around Jiang Hanzheng grew heavier. Noticing his quiet disciple’s gloom, He Lang, somewhat apologetic, added some spiritual vegetables to his bowl and asked with concern, “How is your progress in cultivation today?”

At this, Jiang Hanzheng regained some composure and replied calmly, “Progress is steady. I should reach the mid-stage of foundation building by the end of the month.”

For someone his age, this was already an impressive pace. But Kong Huai, biased against him, dismissed it lightly, believing Jiang Hanzheng could never surpass him. With indifference, he said, “Hardly noteworthy.”

The malice in his words was unmasked, like a bucket of cold water poured over Jiang Hanzheng. Gripping his chopsticks tightly, Jiang Hanzheng no longer held back. His tone turned sharp, “Naturally, I can’t compare to Senior Brother.”

Senior Brother, born with an exceptional single spiritual root, had always enjoyed a smooth path of cultivation. He could never understand the hardships Jiang Hanzheng had endured to even gain the chance to cultivate, the struggles and endurance it took to achieve the little progress he had today.

Under the table, Jiang Hanzheng clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to suppress his frustration and sorrow.

Noticing the tense atmosphere between the two, He Lang sighed inwardly. With his usual gentle smile, he reassured Jiang Hanzheng, “You’ve done very well, worthy of praise.”

He continued speaking words of encouragement, completely ignoring Kong Huai.

Kong Huai’s face grew darker. He was acutely aware that his master was deliberately neglecting him. Swallowing his pride, he set down his chopsticks, intending to leave in anger. But on second thought, if he left now, wouldn’t that boy have Master all to himself?

Fueled by sheer stubbornness, Kong Huai stayed until the two finished their meal.

Afterwards, Jiang Hanzheng silently cleared the dishes and left. Seizing the opportunity, Kong Huai began recounting past events with He Lang, attempting to evoke his master’s former affection for him.

Unfortunately, while He Lang knew all about the original soul’s experiences with Kong Huai, he felt no personal connection to them. No matter how much Kong Huai reminisced, He Lang responded only with polite acknowledgments, devoid of genuine emotion.

Even so, Jiang Hanzheng, who was pacing restlessly outside the door, misunderstood entirely. Peeking through a crack in the door for a long time, he saw the two conversing animatedly. His senior brother, speaking of memories unknown to him, shone with a brilliance even greater than during competitions.

Jiang Hanzheng’s heart sank like a stone into icy waters, leaving him cold and unwilling to watch any longer. He fled to the back mountain where he usually cultivated, hoping to use cultivation to numb himself and quiet his mind.

For a cultivator, clarity of heart was paramount. But with his thoughts so scattered, Jiang Hanzheng was clearly unfit for cultivation today.

His inner fire burned fiercely, and he could not calm his mind. Attempting introspection, he noticed that the sealed inner core of the Scarlet-eyed Beast in his dantian was glowing faintly. Wrapped in a reddish light, it pulsated like a heartbeat, as if on the verge of breaking its seal, beckoning curiosity.

He felt as if he was being lured, and an idea formed in his mind to break the seal himself.

When he first entered Mount Tian, it was because of this inner core, which held immense energy. It was clear that this inner core was no ordinary item. What kind of miracle might occur if he were to harness its power?

Jiang Hanzheng might have been a bit impulsive, but he couldn’t bear to continue living a mundane, slow-paced life of cultivation.

The daily life of cultivation was monotonous. He had always been honest and obedient, building his spiritual foundation step by step, but how could he not wish to progress rapidly?

This inner core had been inside him for years and had already fully integrated with his body without any rejection, so he no longer felt the oppressive force it once imposed on him. He believed his cultivation had reached a level of maturity, enough to control it.

With these thoughts in mind, he quietly found countless excuses for himself. After all, only through risk could one gain greater rewards; he knew this well. And this wasn’t his first time taking risks—one more wouldn’t make a difference.

Moreover, the competition was getting more intense. His strength was not top-tier, and even though he was careful and cautious during the matches, walking on thin ice, he had only managed to win three times by sheer luck. If he didn’t break through in this short period, how would he face the next challenge confidently?

In this competition, not only did Liu Yihan have a challenge waiting for him, but his senior brother was always eager to see him fail, constantly looking for an opportunity to overshadow him and criticize him in front of their master. How could he not care about that?

Over the years, he appeared gentle and harmless, but deep down, he was quite stubborn. The more people around him wanted to see him struggle, the more determined he was not to let them get their way.

When he remembered Kong Huai’s dismissive comment about him being “nothing special,” he felt a surge of anger, and the normally conflict-free part of him began to change because of it.

His five-element spiritual root was only one element away from fully forming. Given enough time, with simultaneous cultivation of all five elements, they would complement each other and create a harmonious flow of spiritual energy. He didn’t believe he couldn’t surpass him!

Since his senior brother wanted to prove who was most important to their master, then he would take up the challenge.