My Wife is A Sword God

Chapter 133: The Unnamed Spirit Tablet

After lunch, Qin Feng left the Qin residence with Lan Ningshuang.

The latter had already broken through to the sixth level of the Divine Martial the Gathered Energy Realm. She no longer needed to stay in the Heavy Abyss Formation for cultivation.

“Young Master, where are we going?” Lan Ningshuang asked.

Qin Feng lowered his head in contemplation.

For the time being, they wouldn’t go to the Medicine Hall. Although treating patients could gain Literature Qi, most of the cases were common illnesses and the Literature Qi obtained was limited.

It had been a while since he visited the Moonlit Pavilion. Today, he needed to go and talk to the Manager Peng to know about the recent profits from the restaurant.

As for the Listen To Rain Pavilion…

“Let’s go to the Listen To Rain Pavilion first,” Qin Feng said.

Not seeing Miss Cang for a day felt like three autumns had passed and he missed her greatly.

Walking on the street, vendors on both sides were constantly shouting. Since it rained heavily yesterday, many people had not opened their shops. Now that the weather was clear, they naturally hurried to set up their stalls.

Qin Feng casually looked around and a man brushed past him.

It was unclear whether the man didn’t notice or if Qin Feng wasn’t careful.

Their shoulders collided.

Qin Feng thought it was his fault for not paying attention and was about to apologize, but the man, dressed in coarse linen with a vacant expression, walked away without looking back.

“Young Master, are you okay?” Lan Ningshuang asked with concern.

Qin Feng looked at the man’s back and shook his head. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling a bit sore, as if he had bumped into an iron plate.

Could it be that they practiced the Divine Martial Dao Lineage, making their bodies so tough?

He didn’t dwell on it too much and continued forward.

In Jinyang City, there was more than one man like this. They all had vacant expressions and walked without looking at people.

When they reached a deserted alley, these people would blend into the ground and inexplicably disappear.

Outside the Listen To Rain Pavilion, Qin Feng unexpectedly saw someone.

Old Li, leaning on a crutch, was talking to that old drunkard.

Strangely, despite the short distance, they could only see their mouths moving but couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Qin Feng approached and greeted, “Senior Li.”

Old Li glanced at Qin Feng, nodded slightly, and then bid farewell to the old drunkard.

However, as he left, he left behind a comment: “The hot pot tastes good.”

Qin Feng was puzzled at first but soon understood. Senior Li had indeed visited the Moonlit Pavilion during this period.

“What? You know how to greet that guy but not me?” The old man lying on the wicker chair sneered.

Uh, this old drunkard…

Qin Feng cursed in his heart but respectfully said, “Senior.”

Unexpectedly, after saying hello, the bad old fogey ignored him at all. Instead, he turned his head to look at Lan Ningshuang and said, “At such an age, stepping into the sixth rank of the Divine Martial Lineage, not bad at all.”

Upon hearing this, Qin Feng displayed a look of astonishment.

Lan Ningshuang just entered the sixth realm not long ago. How could this old man discern it at a glance?

Generally speaking, unless someone possessed special means or significantly surpassed the other in strength, it was challenging to gauge another person’s cultivation level accurately.

So, which category did this old man fall into? Up to this point, Qin Feng remained curious about the true identity of the old man.

He had been wanting to use the old man’s words to confirm Old Li’s identity and inquire about the battle at the Zhenling Pass. After all, despite the old man’s sharp tongue, he was indeed well-informed.

“Senior Bai Li, do you know the identity of Senior Li?” Qin Feng cautiously inquired.

“You already have a guess in your heart; why bother asking when you already know?” The old man glanced, not bothering to conceal his words this time.

Since the old man put it this way, it seemed that Senior Li was indeed one of the surviving warriors from the Zhenling Pass battle, as Qin Feng had suspected.

“But I have always had a question. The soldiers of The Great Qian mostly follow the Divine Martial tradition. Why does Senior Li cultivate the Hundred Ghosts tradition? And his rank is not low,” Qin Feng asked.

Among many traditions, although Divine Martial lacked supernatural abilities, it was undoubtedly the most formidable when it came to warriors of the same low rank.

Therefore, there was an unwritten rule in The Great Qian’s military that soldiers should follow the Divine Martial tradition. After all, with a large number of soldiers, expecting all of them to cultivate to high ranks was a foolish dream.

Thus, cultivating warriors had the highest cost-effectiveness, as they could become effective combatants once they reached the ninth rank.

Bai Li narrowed his eyes, falling into silence.

Just when Qin Feng thought that there might be no answer to this question, the old man slowly spoke, “Who said he hasn’t cultivated the Divine Martial Dao Lineage?”

With this statement, Qin Feng was stunned, and Lan Ningshaung also showed a puzzled expression.

The ability to control Yin spirits, as demonstrated in the past, was something that warriors could not achieve. Only practitioners of the Hundred Ghosts Dao Lineage could.

But why did the old man say that Senior Li cultivated the Divine Martial Dao Lineage?

Wait a minute, could it be that Senior Li cultivated both the Divine Martial and Hundred Ghosts Dao Lineage simultaneously?

This idea was immediately dismissed by Qin Feng.

The methods and techniques of cultivation in different traditions were fundamentally different. One could not absorb Yin energy while cultivating the Qi, that was common knowledge.

A trace of sadness flickered in the old man’s eyes as he added, “He just dissipated his entire Qi and re-cultivated the Hundred Ghosts tradition.”

“What?” Both Qin Feng and Lan Ningshaung exclaimed in surprise.

The pain one must endure to re-establish the orthodox tradition is beyond the imagination of ordinary people, especially for martial artists.

Martial cultivation involves transforming one’s blood and energy into strength, constantly refining the physical body.

To dissipate a martial artist’s cultivation, one must undergo the suffering akin to the burning of the flesh in intense fire and the agony of a thousand cuts.

Who could endure such pain?

“Senior Li, why would he do this?” Lan Ningshuang asked in confusion.

Qin Feng thought of a possibility, and a touch of sorrow crossed his eyes.

He took a deep breath, calming his emotions. “Senior Li might have chosen to scatter his cultivation, abandoning the martial path to pursue the way of the Hundred Ghosts. Perhaps it’s just to reunite with the departed comrades and see them once more.”

Lan Ningshuang widened her eyes at his words.

The old man on the wicker chair closed his eyes, swaying the chair, immersed in silence.

Qin Feng thought of the humble dwelling, the solitary figure of Senior Li. His comrades from the past had all left him, and perhaps living itself was a torment for him.

In the midst of Qin Feng’s melancholy, the old man suddenly snapped, “Why are you still standing here? Have you finished reading the books inside? You haven’t been here for a few days, don’t you know you should use your time wisely?”

“I…” Qin Feng was taken aback.

“Go on, go on, don’t stay here bothering me.” The old man waved him away.

This grumpy old man was truly inexplicable!

The right fist under Qin Feng’s sleeve involuntarily clenched. He forcefully suppressed the urge to punch the old man and entered the Listen to Rain Pavilion with resentment.

On the other side, Old Li returned to his humble dwelling.

The wine cups on the table in the courtyard were filled, and he lifted a cup,drank half of it, and spilled the rest.

Tapping the cane on the ground, the cellar opened again.

Descending the stairs, the number of wine jars increased, but the quantity of spirit tablets remained unchanged.

He gently touched the stone platform where the spirit tablets were placed, his fingers untouched by any dust.

“My old friends…” Old Li pursed his lips, surveying the surrounding spirit tablets with red eyes.

He slowly walked to the innermost part of the cellar, glanced at one of the tablets, and ran his hand over its surface.

This tablet was different from the others; no name was engraved on it.

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