Longevity: Comprehending the Heart Method

”The battle between the Purple Mansion experts is not for us to interfere in. All we can do is trust the First Elder and the Honored Guest Elders. You and I just need to do our duty. The fighting over where Chang’an is has gotten tight. Take twenty clansmen and go reinforce them.”

Song Luzhou placed a hand on Song Qingming’s shoulder, his tone grave.

”I understand.” Song Qingming nodded silently, then selected twenty men and headed straight for the battlefield where Song Chang’an was fighting.

When they arrived, they discovered that a small team from the Lieyang Sect, led by two Foundation Establishment Cultivators, had somehow managed to regroup and had cornered Song Chang’an, Song Changjun, and the others in a mountain ravine.

Nearly ten Song Clan members had already fallen here. The remaining few were all wounded, with Song Changjun the most grievously injured, his body covered in horrifying wounds.

In contrast, the Lieyang Sect forces were high in spirits, closing in step by step.

Alarmed by the sight, Song Qingming quickly formed a hand seal for a spell. With a flash of green light, a small flying sword shot from his sleeve, aimed at the heart of the tall Foundation Establishment Cultivator from the Lieyang Sect from behind.

The man was completely absorbed in his fight with Song Chang’an. When faced with Song Qingming’s surprise attack, he relied on his vast combat experience to instinctively shift aside, avoiding a fatal wound. However, the flying sword still pierced his right lung, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Seizing the opening, Song Chang’an’s Treasure Sword glinted coldly as he lopped off the man’s arm in a single strike. The tables had turned in an instant.

”Senior Brother Zhang?” The other Foundation Establishment Cultivator from the Lieyang Sect was aghast. He forced Song Changjun back with his sword and prepared to rush to his comrade’s aid, but before he could get far, Song Changjun roared and lunged at him again, desperately tangling with him while shouting to Song Qingming, ”That man can see through the mist! Kill him, quickly!”

Song Qingming’s heart went cold at his words. ’No wonder so many Lieyang Sect disciples managed to gather in one place! Someone can see through the mist!’

The mist produced by the Clan Protection Array was one of the Song Clan’s greatest advantages. It caused invaders to lose their bearings, allowing the Song Clan Cultivators to divide, surround, and annihilate them.

If someone could see through it and let the invaders regroup, the Song Clan, being outnumbered, would suffer a devastating loss.

At that thought, killing intent flared in Song Qingming’s heart. He directed his flying sword to strike at the tall cultivator.

Though the cultivator had a Mid-stage Foundation Establishment Cultivation, he had already been stabbed and had lost his right arm. Caught in a pincer attack from Song Chang’an and Song Qingming, he soon fell in battle.

Seeing Song Chang’an and Song Qingming team up and charge toward him, the remaining Foundation Establishment Cultivator was terrified. With a backhand strike, he forced Song Changjun away, slapped a [Rapid Movement Talisman] on himself, and vanished in a streak of yellow light. He had abandoned the remaining Qi Refining Disciples to save his own skin.

When the Lieyang Sect disciples saw this, their will to fight instantly shattered. Some fled, others surrendered.

”Coward!”

Song Qingming spat in disdain. He then ordered some men to secure the prisoners while others tended to the wounded.

COUGH COUGH COUGH.

Seeing how things had turned, the last of Song Changjun’s strength finally gave out. He paid no mind to the gruesome wounds covering his body as he found a bluestone block to sit on, staring blankly at the field of corpses.

”Changjun, quickly, take this [Blood Coagulation Pill].” Song Chang’an brought a blood-red Pill to Song Changjun’s lips.

But Song Changjun merely stared blankly forward, unresponsive.

Song Chang’an’s heart sank. He immediately reached out to pry open his mouth, but just as he was about to place the Pill inside, Song Changjun suddenly grabbed his wrist. He shook his head weakly and said, ”Clan Brother... it’s no use for me. Don’t waste a good pill.”

”Don’t talk nonsense. Just take the medicine. The clan has countless treasures; an injury like this is nothing.” Song Chang’an pulled the corners of his mouth into a forced, ugly smile.

Nearby, Song Qingming couldn’t help but turn his head away, unable to bear watching.

Song Changjun’s injuries were already severe, and he had burned his life essence to hold back the Foundation Establishment Cultivator. Now that his will had ebbed, he was like an oil lamp about to be extinguished.

In his condition, nothing short of a legendary treasure could help; no Spirit Pill or Miracle Pill would be effective.

Song Changjun was clearly aware of this as well. He firmly pushed down the hand Song Chang’an was using to hold the medicine and said weakly, ”Clan Brother, you were right. You can’t underestimate any enemy.

Unfortunately, I learned that lesson too late. Underestimating the enemy and advancing recklessly... there’s always a price to pay.”

”Stop talking about that for now. Take the pill.”

Song Changjun didn’t reply, merely murmuring softly, ”I really wanted to see the Clan Leader ascend to the Purple Mansion... a Purple Mansion Cultivator... before the age of forty...”

His voice grew weaker and weaker, then gradually faded into silence.

”Changjun!”

”Clan Uncle!”

Their cries drew the attention of everyone nearby. They all gathered around, their faces etched with grief as they looked at Song Changjun, who had collapsed in Song Chang’an’s arms.

They silently lowered their heads, saying nothing.

”Bastard!” Song Chang’an cursed under his breath. He handed Song Changjun’s still-warm body to Song Qingming, then drew the long sword beside him and said coldly, ”I’m going to slaughter that animal. I’m leaving this place to you.”

”Clan Uncle, don’t be rash,” Song Qingming frowned.

”I know what I’m doing.”

With that, Song Chang’an strode into the mist, sword in hand.

Song Qingming opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more. He sighed. ”A few of you, take the wounded back to the Hundred Arts Hall to recover. The rest will follow me to continue holding back the enemy.”

——————

Huang Xun sped through the dense forest. Soon, he realized he had lost his way; he didn’t have the ability to see through the mist.

He stopped at the base of a large cypress tree and warily scanned his surroundings. After confirming he was alone, he sat cross-legged beneath its branches to circulate his energy and recover.

After a brief recovery, he stood up and looked at the vast white fog around him, unable to stop himself from cursing under his breath, ”What the hell is this stuff? I’m completely lost in it.”

In his current state, if he were to encounter another Foundation Establishment Cultivator from the Song Clan, his chances of survival would be slim.

But his Divine Sense was suppressed by the mist and his perceptions were disrupted, making it impossible for him to find the way down the mountain.

In this situation, unless the Song Clan opened the Array themselves, or he waited for Hex Tai’s group to finish their battle and show them the way down, he was trapped on this mountain.

After cursing a few more times to vent his frustration, Huang Xun decided to find a hidden spot to treat his injuries.

”Where do you think you’re going?” An impossibly cold voice came from deep within the fog. The foot Huang Xun had just lifted froze in mid-air.

He whirled around to see Song Chang’an walking out of the dense fog step by step, a long sword still dripping blood in his hand. Invisible Sword Qi swirled around him, shredding any falling leaves to dust before they could even get close.

Huang Xun’s expression darkened, but he didn’t panic. Song Chang’an had also been badly wounded in the earlier fight; he still had a chance.

He retreated a few steps, then suddenly launched an attack. With a wave of his hand, a sinister gleam shot from his sleeve, striking toward Song Chang’an’s heart with blinding speed.

Song Chang’an’s figure flashed, disappearing from his spot like a phantom. His long sword fell, slicing a three-inch-long, dark blue nail in two.

”How is that possible!” Huang Xun exclaimed.

”So you used such a dirty trick to hurt Changjun.” Anger blazed in Song Chang’an’s eyes. Song Changjun and Huang Xun had been evenly matched. He had only fallen because he underestimated his opponent and was struck by a hidden weapon. Naturally, Song Chang’an would not make the same mistake.

”Die!” Holding his long sword, Song Chang’an closed the distance of tens of yards in the blink of an eye...

”The Elder is back,” a clansman suddenly shouted.

Song Qingming looked toward the voice and saw the figure of Song Chang’an emerging from the mist, holding a head frozen in a hideous death grimace.

At the same time, as a splendid Sword Light fell from the heavens, the curtain also fell on the battlefield in the sky...