Chương 29: Companions

A natal artifact possessed many advantages over ordinary magic tools. For one, it was bound to a cultivator's very cultivation and could be directly stored within their body. You could lose all your wealth and all your possessions, but no one could ever take away your natal artifact. More importantly, a natal artifact's strength was not fixed. Common magic tools were static; once forged, they remained as they were. You could pour more qi into them, yes, but each had a defined limit and a fixed ability.

A flying boat could only fly, and only up to a certain speed. A flying sword could cut, unleash sword light, or even ignite itself, but its ultimate potential was set at creation, determined by the quality of its materials, the refinement process, and the strength of the cultivators who forged it. A natal artifact, on the other hand, was ever-changing. It was constantly tempered in Core Flames or Nascent Flames, depending on the cultivator's realm, growing stronger with each passing moment, however imperceptibly.

Mo Jian's Heaven Enshrouding Ding was stronger today than it had been yesterday, if only by a sliver. Over the years, those tiny increments accumulated, which was why an older cultivator was almost always more formidable than a younger one of the same realm. Beyond that, natal artifacts could grow or shrink, shapeshift, and even create copies of themselves.

From Core Formation onward, it was generally believed that a cultivator should rely solely on their natal artifact, as that was the path of purity in pursuing the Dao. Of course, few actually did so; specialized tools often proved more practical in certain situations, and most cultivators had grown accustomed to wielding a variety of tools since their Qi Condensation and Foundation Establishment days. Another crucial advantage was that a natal artifact could be improved endlessly.

Rare materials, spiritual treasures, beast parts, refined ores: all of that could be integrated into it with relative ease. A natal artifact was meant to evolve alongside its master, never remaining static. A magic tool, in contrast, could also be enhanced in theory, but the process was tedious and inefficient, involving unmaking, modifying, and reforging the tool entirely. It was an enormous waste of time and resources; it was often easier to simply craft a new one.

In short, a natal artifact represented not just power, but the very essence of a cultivator's path. Its nature revealed much about its master. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding, for example, reflected a measured, conservative approach, one suited to an alchemist and refiner, though capable in battle as well. A sword, by contrast, spoke largely of unyielding will and martial strength. It wasn't an exact science, but even these generalizations tended to be helpful.

Besides, Mo Jian knew well how much influence a natal artifact had on a cultivator's future realms. In the book, Ye Chen and Bai Ning had both reached the penultimate stage of immortal cultivation, and had only stopped there voluntarily, unwilling to ascend before settling all earthly matters. Their natal artifacts had shaped their paths across the entire story.

All of which was to say that Mo Jian was proud of how strong his Heaven Enshrouding Ding had become, especially now, after he had hunted down and fused so many rare and powerful materials into it. He was confident it was among the finest natal artifacts possessed by any Core Formation cultivator in the Thousand Shattered Islands. Nascent Soul cultivators didn't count, of course; by sheer virtue of their realm, their natal artifacts were on an entirely different level.

So, on paper, serving as the defensive arm of the group Jin Rong had assembled was not a bad place to be. In reality, however, a Gu was a terrible matchup for him. His favorite approaches –"kill it with fire," and"oh, that didn't work, let's kill it with even more fire" – would both be useless here. The Ding itself was forged from Bin Steel, and even bashing the creature with it would accomplish little, since the Gu was immune to steel as well. One might ask, what about lightning?

Unfortunately, lightning, while devastating against most unorthodox techniques and malevolent creatures due to its purifying, evil-repelling nature, would not be very effective in this case either. A Gu was neither weak to lightning nor significantly affected by it. It could be used as an attack, but not a truly powerful one. Simply put, Mo Jian's usual bag of tricks was running on empty for this fight. That was not to say he was helpless. He could still contribute defensively.

He had crafted pills to repel poison and heal corrosive wounds, though only the Buddha knew how effective they'd truly be. He just wasn't going to be the one making the biggest impact this time. Thankfully, he wasn't alone. Jin Rong had also recruited two other Core Formation cultivators: Li Deng and Chi Shen. Mo Jian didn't recognize either name, which meant neither had a reputation that echoed across the islands. Then again, the same could be said for him.

Few people knew who Mo Jian was, though honestly, that suited him just fine. Li Deng and Chi Shen were both mid-stage Core Formation cultivators, which technically made Mo Jian the strongest among the group. Still, command rested with Jin Rong, since he was the one who had gathered the team and actually understood the situation. When Mo Jian arrived on the island the day after their initial talk, Jin Rong introduced him to the two cultivators and laid out his plan. It was, in essence, the creation of a tank.

Not that anyone in this world had the faintest idea what a tank was, but as far as Mo Jian was concerned, it was the most fitting comparison. Jin Rong had explained that there was no point in splitting up or fighting as a loose group. They had the advantage of numbers, so it only made sense to maximize it with a tight, coordinated formation. To that end, Jin Rong would remain in the center – partly because of his lingering injuries – and would use his Storm King Trident as both anchor and weapon.

Chi Shen, with his Mountain and Birds Folding Fan, would provide mobility and defense against poison. Finally, Li Deng and Mo Jian would form the defensive front. Mo Jian would deploy the Heaven Enshrouding Ding to create a barrier around the group, while Li Deng's Amber Dripping Vial would reinforce it with a second layer, specialized to counter sneak attacks. Together, they would maintain formation within two overlapping barriers, remaining mobile, protected, and insulated from poison.

For offense, a manifested copy of the Storm King Trident floated above their heads, pulsing with condensed qi. All four of them had poured their energy into it, turning the weapon into something akin to a guided missile, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice. Once fired, they could channel qi again to form another and continue the assault. It was slow. It was cumbersome. But it was also devastatingly powerful.

They now floated within a sphere of blue and white light, an illusory trident suspended above them, the barriers surrounding them like armor. It served as both chariot and shield. A tank, in other words. Right now, they were deep beneath the ocean, so deep that sunlight was only a faint memory. The world outside was a dim expanse of blue-black water, heavy and endless, where strange silhouettes drifted in the distance and the pressure could crush a lesser cultivator to pulp.

Their sphere of blue and white light cut through that gloom like a slow-moving star, trailed closely by an undersea ship. Within that vessel rode the group of Foundation Establishment cultivators they had brought along, all tense and eager, the faint glimmer of spirit arrays flickering across the hull. Bai Ning was among them too. Mo Jian had given her the last of his powerful talismans; anything above grade five was a treasure even he rarely used. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep her safe.

But a fight against a Gu was never predictable. Even the most cautious plans could dissolve in an instant. At the front of the expedition, inside the luminous sphere, Mo Jian floated at the very rear of their formation. The four of them were arranged like a triangle: Jin Rong floated at the center, the heart of the array, while Li Deng and Chi Shen held the front. Mo Jian covered their back, ensuring no attack came from behind.

Their qi flowed ceaselessly, burning bright as it fed both the barrier and the trident suspended above them. At the same time, they were circulating more qi to refine the numerous anti-poison pills they had taken before setting out, ensuring the medicinal energy properly merged into their systems. It was a heavy and unsustainable drain, and fighting like this would deplete their reserves long before the battle ended. But Jin Rong had planned for that.

The man had opened his treasury and issued each cultivator, even the Foundation Establishment ones, a set of mid-grade spirit stones, specially refined to facilitate faster qi recovery. Mo Jian carried five of them in his storage pouch, enough to keep using his most qi-intensive techniques for an entire day and still have energy to spare. They were taking no chances at all. Mo Jian might not think much of Jin Rong as a person, but he had to admit, the man's resolve was worthy of respect.

As they swept through the waves, their spiritual senses were extended to the utmost. The waters around them were pitch-dark at this depth; only the faintest glimmer of light filtered down from above. Not that they needed eyes to see; at their level, perception came from the soul, not sight. Without warning, a massive lizard-like beast emerged from the gloom ahead, its three heads and three tails thrashing violently as it lunged toward them.

The unrestricted aura of four Core Formation cultivators should have been enough to make such a rank three Three-Headed Carp Lizard flee in terror, but this one seemed particularly stupid, or maybe, suicidally bold. The creature slammed into the milky-white, translucent liquid that surrounded their barrier like a silken cocoon. The instant it made contact, it dissolved, melting into that same liquid as if consumed by acid.

The cocoon surged in response, flowing more vigorously, as though it had absorbed the beast's qi to strengthen itself. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Mo Jian watched with genuine interest. It was a remarkable ability, an elegant blend of offense and defense. In fact, it reminded him of something…

"The Jade Dripping Vial of legend," he said aloud.

"That's what it's modeled after, isn't it?" Li Deng turned with a faint smile and cupped his hands in salute.

"Fellow Daoist Mo Jian, you are well read. Indeed, I have fond memories of those tales from my youth. They inspired me when I refined my natal artifact." Li Deng looked every bit the archetypal elder cultivator, bent and withered, his limbs almost skeletal. His long white hair hung in wisps, and his body seemed fragile enough to crumble at a touch. Yet there was a quiet strength about him, a kind of weathered resilience that commanded respect.

On the flip side, without his gentle manner and kind eyes, he might have looked like a demonic cultivator drained of blood. Before him floated the Amber Dripping Vial, small and luminous, as though it contained dusk itself within its glassy surface. Mo Jian returned the salute with a nod, though the reason he recognized the reference had little to do with being well read.

The Jade Dripping Vial was one of the divine treasures he remembered from the book, though it would appear far in the future, in another world altogether. Still, it was fascinating how legends could echo between worlds, even after four thousand years without contact. With the ice now broken, he decided it was time to learn more about his companions. They were about to descend into battle with a deadly opponent; it was only wise to know, and trust, each other at least a little.

"If you don't mind me asking," Mo Jian said, "why did you join this mission, Fellow Daoist Li Deng? Is your island close enough to be affected by the Gu?" Li Deng laughed softly, more at himself than at the question, and shook his head.

"Oh, my island is close by, yes, but that's not the reason," he said.

"Partly, it's a matter of duty. A cultivator should not turn away from such evil beings. But mostly… it's because I'm looking to die. This fight is as good an opportunity as any." Mo Jian was taken aback, staring at the still-smiling old man. Up front, Chi Shen shook his head and sighed quietly, glancing at Li Deng with a trace of sorrow before looking away. Only Jin Rong showed no reaction at all; he sat cross-legged in midair, eyes closed, giving the impression he hadn't heard a word.

"That's…" Mo Jian began, uncertain what to say.

"If I may ask, why?" Li Deng's smile widened.

"Love," he said simply.

"My wife is dying. A few weeks, at most. There's no way to save her. She told me she's afraid to die alone, so I intend to accompany her. Who knows, perhaps King Yama will take pity on us and let us be reborn together in the next life, side by side." Mo Jian was speechless. He studied the old man's face, wondering if he had heard correctly, but Li Deng's expression never wavered. He looked utterly at peace, as if his reason were perfectly sound.

Parsing through his thoughts, Mo Jian finally asked, "What's wrong with your wife, Fellow Daoist? Is it an illness or an injury? I'm not unskilled in the making of pills and medicines." Even as he said it, he doubted how much it would help. Surely, anything within his reach was something Li Deng would have already tried. Li Deng gave him a gentle, almost indulgent smile.

"You are kind to offer, but it's nothing of the sort. She attempted to advance to Core Formation and failed. Her cultivation is now dispersing bit by bit, and when it's gone, so will she be. There's nothing that can be done, unless, of course, you know a miraculous pill that can take someone straight to Core Formation." Needless to say, such a thing did not exist. Ahead, Chi Shen pursed his lips, as if he wanted to speak, but ultimately said nothing. Mo Jian stayed silent as well.

Li Deng didn't seem to mind; he stood calm and serene, as though discussing the weather. Inwardly, though, Mo Jian's mind was racing. He rather wished he hadn't asked. Because, unlike the others, he did know of such methods. Ways to ascend to Core Formation or even Nascent Soul instantly. Unfortunately, none were within reach. If they were, he would have already used one for Bai Ning.

In the book, several such opportunities had existed, but each depended on a particular place, treasure, or knowledge base, and he possessed none of them. The only theoretically possible route involved the teleportation formation in Imperial Heavenly City, but that was a journey no Core Formation cultivator could survive. And even if they somehow made it there, and managed to use it, who could say whether the legions or the senate would allow them access to their techniques? So he said nothing.

He simply nodded, feeling the same awkward silence settle over him and Chi Shen alike. Li Deng seemed to notice, because he smiled again, gentle, reassuring, almost fatherly.

"There's no need to feel bad for me, Fellow Daoists," he said.

"This is my choice. I've lived a long, rich life. My wife and I have shared many moments of joy and laughter. It was selfish of me to marry her, knowing my lifespan as a Core Formation cultivator would be twice that of hers, and selfish again that I wish to follow her now. But it's my selfishness to bear, so please, don't be sad." Chi Shen finally burst out, unable to hold it in.

"We've known each other for over a century, you old fool. I may have given up on convincing you otherwise, but isn't it cruel to ask a friend not to mourn you?" Li Deng only laughed, pointing at him before turning to Mo Jian.

"Don't you agree, Fellow Daoist? I must have lived a good life if I have friends willing to mourn me." Mo Jian couldn't help but smile and nod. Even Chi Shen sighed.

"I'll raise a toast to you and Lady Ping when the time comes," he said quietly. Another silence settled over them, though this one was not as awkward as the last. Then, deciding that since he had already come this far he might as well see it through, Mo Jian spoke again.

"And what of you, Fellow Daoist Chi Shen? Do you also have such a… reason?" Chi Shen snorted, clearly not amused by the question. In appearance, he was the very opposite of Li Deng. Where Li Deng looked like a wizened sage, Chi Shen was the archetypal handsome cultivator; the kind that made Mo Jian uncomfortably aware of his thinning hair and his protruding gut. Chi Shen's features were smooth and refined, his long black hair tied neatly with a golden clasp.

His layered green robes were simple yet exquisite, subtle threads of gold embroidery catching the light when he moved. In his hand, he held his natal artifact, the Mountain and Birds Folding Fan, a white, half-moon fan painted with elegant brushwork depicting mountain peaks and flocks of birds. The art style was Shui-mo, the delicate black-ink technique that suggested shape through spirit rather than detail.

In this case, that was literal: one painted bird actually fluttered from one peak to another, while a few others ruffled their feathers in quiet motion.

"My reasons are purely business," Chi Shen said at last.

"I have an ongoing contract with the Blackrock Emporium. They purchase most of the Corrosive Silk Poison Wine my island produces, and that connection was enough for Jin Rong to reach out to me. Since I have some talent with poison, I agreed to come along. A Gu is bad for business-" He paused, then corrected himself dryly, "Well, a Gu is bad for everything, really. Except killing your enemies, though even that only lasts until it kills you instead." He waved his fan through the air as if declaring the matter closed.

Mo Jian couldn't help but be amused. Chi Shen's words and demeanor didn't quite match. He was trying to sound proud and detached, but he was clearly close to Li Deng. He claimed to be here for business, yet this mission carried tremendous risk, and he had been the first to ask how they planned to protect the Foundation Establishment cultivators in the undersea ship if the Gu master targeted them first. Their formation was powerful, but slow.

Jin Rong had reassured him that the ship was heavily reinforced; it wouldn't stop a Gu, but it would buy them enough time to intervene. Still, Mo Jian hid his amusement and instead focused on another detail.

"Some talent with poison?" he asked.

"How so? Does it have to do with this Poison Wine you mentioned?" Chi Shen turned to him in mild surprise, while even Li Deng raised an eyebrow.

"You've never heard of Corrosive Silk Poison Wine, Brother Mo? Truly?" Chi Shen said, incredulous.

"And here I thought my island had a reputation. Even the Ming family used to buy our wine by the barrel, though that business stopped once the Song family took over." Mo Jian smiled apologetically.

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a wine connoisseur. I prefer tea. Is it really that famous?" Li Deng answered before Chi Shen could.

"Quite. I know several cultivators who prefer it over any other spirit wine. It burns like a silken poison when you drink it, hence the name, and the aftereffects are extraordinary. Why, I remember one night my wife and I got terribly drunk and then…" His expression left no doubt as to what had followed, and Mo Jian had to look away quickly, hiding a laugh. Chi Shen looked scandalized.

"You old lecher! My wine is not for such things; it's meant to be savored in solitude, a pure and refined experience!" Li Deng only laughed again, entirely unbothered.

"You were saying," he prompted, still grinning. Chi Shen glared at him for a moment longer before giving up with an exasperated sigh and continuing.

"The island I was born on – Poison Valley Island – has a famous tree that grows on its mountain peaks," he said.

"The tree itself isn't poisonous, but its pollen is extremely toxic, being one of the deadliest venoms known. Every year, as the seasons change and the winds shift, the pollen drifts down the slopes into the valleys where the towns and villages lie. That's why almost all cultivators on the island are wind cultivators. We learn to blow the pollen back as it comes.

"The stronger ones climb the mountain during the off-seasons, shielding themselves with wind techniques, and harvest the flowers. Those blossoms are the key ingredient in our wine. That's how Corrosive Silk Poison Wine is made, and how I came to know something of poison." He shrugged, closing his fan with a snap.

"Eventually, I rose to Core Formation and became the Island Master of Poison Valley. Since Jin Rong and I have long done business together, it's only proper that I lend my aid when he calls." Mo Jian nodded, though he was a little surprised by the nature of Chi Shen's poison mastery. He had imagined something more along the lines of an assassin or saboteur.

"And what of you, Fellow Daoist Mo Jian?" Chi Shen asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Where do you hail from, and why did you agree to come along?" Mo Jian rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"Compared to you two, my story is quite plain. I live on Cloud Veil Ridge, roughly in the center of the Thousand Shattered Islands. I serve as the external elder of a minor trade sect in the region. One of that sect's members is my disciple; she's on the ship behind us." Li Deng let out a low whistle.

"The center, is it? Sounds grand. Almost everything of importance happens there." Mo Jian scoffed lightly.

"It only sounds that way, Brother Deng. In truth, I'm far enough from everything that I spend most of my time traveling between one place and another, never close enough to actually benefit from anything. I came here for a bit of peace and quiet. I may have attracted… some unwanted attention, and this seemed like a good place to lay low." He sighed.

"So much for that." Chi Shen chuckled.

"A poor choice for you, perhaps, but fortunate for us. Still, it's good of you to come. This isn't a matter to take lightly, and I know many cultivators who would have chosen to stay out of it for selfish reasons." He was clearly trying to sound lofty and imperious again, though the tone came off as more well-meaning than authoritative. Mo Jian only nodded politely.

The three of them turned their eyes toward Jin Rong, who still sat in the center of the formation with his eyes closed, projecting the aura of someone who had absolutely no intention of joining the conversation. It took nearly five minutes of steadily increasing, unspoken pressure before he finally cracked.

"What?" Jin Rong snapped, opening his eyes.

"Just because you all decided to share your life stories, I have too as well? Don't you already know enough about me? Isn't that why we're fighting together?" Li Deng snorted.

"You'll have to forgive Jin Rong. He's very old-fashioned. I swear, this man has no delicacy at all." Jin Rong rolled his eyes.

"Delicacy? We're about to fight a Gu in its own nest, and you're worried about delicacy? Spirits above, what's wrong with you people?" Li Deng chuckled softly, unbothered.

"All the more reason to share a few words before the storm. It lightens the heart." Jin Rong grunted.

"My heart doesn't need lightening. It needs victory. There, that's all you need to know."

"I, for one, could stand to learn a little more, Island Master Jin Rong," Mo Jian said, amusement flickering beneath his words.

"If not about your life, then at least about where we are headed." Jin Rong shot him a sharp glance, but then nodded. He leaned back slightly, the Storm King Trident humming softly in the water as if echoing his pulse.

"Fair enough. Listen closely, then. This is our battlefield."