Dual Realm Exchange System

Mu Feng moved through the Evergreen Sect like a man being chased by a ghost.

WHOOSH!

His green robes snapped violently behind him as he crossed one courtyard, vaulted over a stone bridge, and landed several dozen meters away before immediately accelerating again.

Disciples stopped whatever they were doing and stared with shock.

Two junior deacons leaving an administrative hall nearly collided with each other when Mu Feng flashed between them without so much as a greeting.

That alone was enough to set tongues wagging, as, after all, Deacon Mu was not a hot-blooded youngster.

He had managed external trade and visiting cultivators for decades, developing a reputation for being affable, careful and frustratingly difficult to shake.

Even when merchants screamed across tables over ten thousand Spirit Stones, the man could sip tea and smile.

Yet now?

He was practically flying through the Outer Sect.

”Deacon Mu!”

A familiar voice caused Mu Feng to slow slightly as another green-robed deacon descended from above.

”Why are you rushing toward the medical district? Did something happen?”

Mu Feng glanced at him, his expression carrying enough excitement that the other man immediately became serious.

”I am testing something!” Mu Feng replied.

”Testing what?” the other deacon asked with puzzlement.

Mu Feng hesitated at first, then his eyes sharpened.

”Something that might change the current fate of our Evergreen Sect!”

The other deacon froze. ”...What?”

Unfortunately for him, Mu Feng was already gone.

Naturally, the other deacon followed, too invested to ignore what was happening.

And once one deacon began chasing another deacon through the Sect while wearing an expression as though an ancestor had crawled out of his grave carrying an Immortal inheritance, others became interested.

Within minutes, Mu Feng had unintentionally gathered a procession of three deacons, several senior Outer Hall disciples, and two members of influential affiliated families who happened to hear the statement.

One elderly alchemist who had no idea what was happening but refused to miss anything that could ”change the fate of the Sect.”

They finally reached an enormous compound surrounded by dense medicinal gardens, a green plaque hanging above its entrance.

[Hall of Verdant Rejuvenation.]

The exterior was beautiful.

Ancient trees shaded stone pathways while medicinal flowers released refreshing fragrances into the air. Gentle streams passed beneath white bridges, and disciples wearing healer robes moved calmly between several elegant buildings.

Anyone standing outside would assume the Hall of Verdant Rejuvenation was the most peaceful place in the Evergreen Sect.

Then, Mu Feng walked inside and the illusion died immediately.

”Ughhh...”

”Senior Brother... water...”

”Hold him down! The corpse poison is attacking his meridians again!”

”Bring another Heartwood Stabilizing Pill!”

Groans, cries, and shouted instructions echoed continuously through the ward, blending together into a chaotic chorus of pain and urgency.

The scent of medicine could not completely conceal blood, sweat and something darker.

A faint black miasma lingered beneath the otherwise rich wood-element spiritual energy, turning what should have been a sanctuary of life into something resembling a green oasis slowly being swallowed by a poisonous bog.

Rows upon rows of young disciples lay upon specially constructed beds, Body Tempering cultivators forming the overwhelming majority.

Bandages covered bodies, broken limbs rested within spiritual splints, and several disciples bore wounds that refused to close despite the continuous application of medicinal paste.

The healer disciples worked almost without rest.

The worst cases were separated behind formation barriers.

There, disciples resembled corpses that had somehow forgotten to die, their bodies having become painfully thin while dark veins crawled beneath pale skin, arteries pulsing black as if their blood itself had been contaminated.

Some shook violently despite being unconscious while others simply stared upward with empty eyes.

Those patients were personally managed by Qi Condensation healers and several special physicians.

Mu Feng’s expression darkened, and so did everyone following him.

”Damn that Nightmare Corpse Sect!” one senior disciple cursed through clenched teeth.

Nobody reprimanded him because everyone present felt the same.

This was the result of the ongoing war between the Evergreen Sect as well as the Azure Water Sect versus the Nightmare Corpse Sect.

Especially the Nightmare Corpse Sect’s disgusting techniques.

Corpse Qi did not merely injure flesh.

It lingered, polluting wounds, damaging meridians, and corroding vitality, turning injuries that should have required several weeks of recovery into illnesses capable of permanently destroying a cultivator’s future.

The Evergreen Sect specialised in wood techniques and possessed excellent healing arts.

Normally, that should have given them an advantage.

Unfortunately, corpse energy was almost a natural enemy to excessive vitality as the two forces attacked one another endlessly inside a patient.

And lately?

The Sect had been losing that battle far too often.

Mu Feng walked past several beds.

Not this one...

Not this one either...

He needed a patient whose condition was unquestionably severe.

If the medicine worked there...

His roving eyes stopped on a young man who lay motionless beneath a thin blanket and was seventeen, perhaps eighteen years of age.

Mu Feng immediately recognised him as Zhao Han, an Outer Hall disciple injured three days earlier when a patrol encountered Nightmare Corpse Sect cultivators near the Black Reed Marsh.

The young man’s abdomen had been torn wide open, part of his intestines having been destroyed and several internal organs badly damaged before his companions carried him back.

The Rejuvenation Hall had done everything possible, cleaning the wound, removing corpse contamination, closing what could be closed, and feeding him life-preserving medicine.

However, much of his vital organic tissue was simply gone, so Zhao Han could not be saved.

Now he existed beneath powerful pain-suppressing medicine, waiting for his body to give up.

Mu Feng stopped beside the bed, one healer noticing him right away.

”Deacon Mu?” the healer asked with a puzzled look.

What was this big shot doing here in the trenches?

”What is his current condition?” Mu Feng asked.

The healer’s expression became grim.

”Stable only because of the medicine, Deacon. His vitality is continuing to fall and he will die in perhaps four hours or less.”

”No chance of recovery?” Deacon Mu verified.

The healer shook his head. ”Not without a treasure capable of regenerating lost internal organs. Spending something of that level upon an Outer Hall disciple...”

He did not finish because the implication was already so clear that nobody present required him to say it aloud.

Such treasures existed naturally, because everything you could think of existed somewhere within the cultivation world.

The question was whether Zhao Han was worth the price.

Hey, it was cruel to say, but the absolute and blunt reality.

Mu Feng inhaled. ”Good, then he should do nicely.”

The healer stared. ”Deacon...?”

Mu Feng took out the red vial, immediately drawing several eyes to it.

One of the other deacons frowned.

”That is what you rushed here to test, Old Mu?” he asked with skepticism.

”Yes,” Deacon Mu responded with a solemn nod.

”What is it?” another deacon asked with visible interest.

Mu Feng looked at the small bottle.

”If the foreign cultivator who sold it to me spoke truthfully... a miracle.”

He uncorked it and a faint medicinal fragrance emerged, yet there was nothing particularly impressive about it.

There were no pill clouds swirling above it, no glowing Dao patterns etched into its surface, and no overwhelming surge of life force that would normally announce a high-grade item.

The old alchemist who followed along earlier frowned deeply.

”This liquid possesses some medicinal energy, but I cannot recognise its refinement method.”

Mu Feng ignored him and lifted Zhao Han’s head, but the youth did not react.

As such, the older man poured the entire Vial of Healing into the disciple’s mouth and forced him to swallow.

Everyone waited, holding their breath as the seconds stretched on in tense silence, counting the passing moments in their minds, but even after one breath and then a second had fully passed, nothing at all happened.

The elderly alchemist opened his mouth.

Then suddenly...

WENG!

A brilliant golden-red light erupted from Zhao Han’s body.

”What?!”

The healer stumbled backward as the blanket shifted, and beneath it, the stitched wound across Zhao Han’s abdomen began changing.

Bruised skin returned to healthy colour, swelling vanished, and stitches snapped loose as the flesh beneath them knitted together faster than the thread could remain relevant.

Then everyone sensed what happened inside.

Damaged organs regenerated, missing tissue reformed, blood vessels reconnected, crushed flesh restored itself, and even several meridians damaged during the battle began recovering.

This... this did not look like ordinary healing!

This looked as though Zhao Han’s body was reversing through time until reaching the point before he had ever been injured!

The entire process lasted less than ten seconds as silence swallowed the medical ward.

Then, Zhao Han inhaled deeply, his tightly shut eyes shooting open all of a sudden.

”Huh? Where am I?” the young man asked with confusion.

Mu Feng’s breathing became heavy as Zhao Han looked left, right, then down at himself.

”Why... am I in the Hall of Verdant Rejuvenation?”

The young man’s voice was clear and strong, not at all the voice of a fellow who previously only had four hours of lifespan left.

Mu Feng grabbed him by both shoulders. ”Zhao Han!”

The disciple nearly jumped. ”D-Deacon Mu?!”

”Check yourself! Immediately! Circulate your cultivation technique and tell me exactly what remains injured!” Deacon Mu ordered with spittle flying from his mouth.

Zhao Han stared at the bloodshot eyes inches from his face, feeling deeply chilled.

”Y-Yes!”

He hurriedly closed his eyes as his breathing changed and spiritual energy entered his body.

Several breaths passed before he opened his eyes again, with clear confusion covering his face.

”Deacon... there is nothing,” he reported honestly.

Mu Feng’s fingers tightened. ”Nothing? What do you mean ’nothing’?”

Zhao Han felt surreal. ”Well, my abdomen is healed, my organs are intact, and my meridians are fine!”

The healer beside them stepped forward.

”What about the damaged section near your lower foundation? Your records show the corpse attack corroded it.”

Zhao Han checked again, and his expression became even stranger.

”That... is healed as well.”

The room immediately exploded with shock and fervor!

”Impossible!”

”His foundation recovered?!”

”What medicine was that?!”

”Deacon Mu, where did you obtain such a thing?!”

The old alchemist nearly threw himself onto Zhao Han.

”Move aside! Let this old man examine him!”

Spiritual senses swept across the young disciple from multiple directions while Zhao Han sat frozen beneath the attention, but the result was always the same.

The young man was not merely alive, but completely healthy and fully restored!

Mu Feng slowly released Zhao Han, his hands trembling.

The strange foreign cultivator had spoken the truth.

No, in fact, he had understated it!

Damian Baines called this thing a basic potion.

Basic?!

If this was basic, then what in the name of the heavens did that strange cultivation civilization consider advanced medicine?!

Mu Feng suddenly understood why his own instincts had become alert when Damian described the effects.

Evergreen Sect medicinal pills could heal wounds, and certain high-level pills could rapidly heal severe injuries, but to achieve instantaneous restoration without meditation, refinement, circulation or compatibility concerns?

That was completely different!

And more importantly...

Body Tempering disciples could use it!

Heck, even mortals could use it!

This was not merely a powerful healing medicine but a mass-producible battlefield resource!

This was a sect treasure measured not by the value of one bottle, but by what happened when hundreds existed!

Outer disciples would survive missions that currently killed them, inner disciples could carry emergency medicine without needing an alchemist beside them, and mortal servants and affiliated clans could be saved without consuming precious spiritual medicines.

And if stronger versions existed...

Mu Feng’s head snapped upward as everyone around him immediately began shouting questions.

”Deacon Mu, where did you get this medicine?”

”Who refined it?”

”Can we acquire more?”

”How much does it cost?”

”Does the Sect Master know?”

The Sect Master...?

Mu Feng froze, then his face changed greatly!

Without answering a single question, he turned.

WHOOSH!

”Aiya, Deacon Mu?!”

The sprightly old man vanished from the ward like a blur, while the others shared looks of stupefaction.

Then, their brains clicked immediately as they began chasing him again!

This time, Mu Feng did not slow down at all, practically flying as Outer Sect buildings disappeared behind him, then the Inner Sect.

Restrictions and barriers increased in potency rapidly as he moved toward the central mountain, his identity token flashing again and again while guards checked his passage.

Eventually, even his deacon status became insufficient.

Mu Feng landed before an ancient compound built around an enormous tree whose trunk disappeared into the clouds.

[Evergreen Ancestral Hall.]

Two Peak Qi Condensation guards stepped forward.

”Deacon Mu, state your purpose!” one demanded with a hint of respect due to Mu Feng’s background.

”I request immediate entry!” Deacon Mu asked with a deep bow and cupped fists.

”Reason?” the other guard asked with furrowed brows.

Mu Feng swallowed. ”I... I may have found something that may save the Sect Master!”

Both guards’ expressions changed greatly, one of them disappearing inside like a slingshot.

Several tense minutes passed before permission returned.

Mu Feng was then searched from head to toe, his storage pouch inspected, his robes checked for hidden talismans, and even his mouth was examined.

Normally, Mu Feng would have found the treatment insulting, but today, he barely noticed.

Once cleared, he hurried through the Ancestral Hall and entered a heavily restricted eastern wing.

The atmosphere grew quieter as servants whispered, guards appeared at every intersection, and the death-like energy in the air became even thicker.

Mu Feng’s expression turned grim.

This was the source, or at least, the greatest concentration of it.

He nearly knocked over two maidservants carrying a basin of steaming water.

”Deacon Mu!” one yowled with anger.

”Apologies!” he shouted as he continued his mad dash.

Finally, Mu Feng reached a large chamber decorated with enough medicinal plants to create a small forest.

Restorative formations covered the walls while life-attributed Spirit Stones filled carefully carved sockets, with incense burning from nine separate braziers.

And yet... death remained dominant in here.

A man lay upon the enormous white bed in the centre, his hair mostly grey, his aged face frighteningly pale, sweat covering his forehead despite the room’s cool temperature as each breath came quickly and shallowly.

Inside him, two powers fought viciously for supremacy over his body.

One was an emerald-green and dense wood-element vitality that circulated throughout the man’s body, continuously repairing damaged flesh and resisting contamination, while the second was a black, sinister corpse fog that occupied nearly three quarters of the battlefield.

Every time the green light recovered a small region, black mist devoured another, and the difference was obvious.

The green energy was losing slowly, constantly, and inevitably.

Seated beside the bed was a young woman who appeared no older than twenty-five, her long jade-black hair falling smoothly down her back while several elegant silver-leaf hairpins held part of it above her head.

Her face possessed the soft, refined beauty of someone raised within immense privilege, but the exhaustion beneath her emerald eyes betrayed days without proper rest.

A pale-green robe wrapped around a moderately voluptuous figure, elegant rather than provocative, though even loose cultivation clothing could not completely conceal the generous curves of her chest or the graceful fullness of her hips.

Her name was Mu Qingyao, the Sect Master’s only daughter and one of the Evergreen Sect’s most gifted young cultivators.

She looked up when the door flew open.

”Uncle Mu?” she murmured with raised eyebrows.

Mu Feng almost tripped over the threshold, and Qingyao immediately stood.

”What happened? Uncle, why are you...”

Mu Feng’s composure shattered completely. ”Young Miss!”

His eyes were red, his breathing was ragged, but his smile looked almost deranged with hope.

”Young Miss, the Master is saved!”

Qingyao froze on the spot, her body trembling as Mu Feng stepped forward with excitement.

”The Master is saved!”