Cultivation through Skin Making

Coiling Silk Mountain Dao, located within the Hundred Thousand Mountains, is a small path connecting the southernmost barren land of Southern Wu with the southeastern corner of Western Shu. This was nearly the furthest Song Yan had ever traveled.

Thinking carefully, he had practically traversed the entire Three Kingdoms on his own two feet... the Puppet Sect, Celestial Cloud City, Imperial Capital, Southern Wu, and now, like a little ant, he slowly moved along the fringes of the Three Kingdoms' territory.

The area where Coiling Silk Mountain Dao lay had quite a high terrain. Even in the summer, there was an extreme snowstorm one night...

This long journey made Song Yan involuntarily recall walking on the small paths of South Bamboo Peak when he first arrived in this world.

At that time, he didn't know what lay ahead and was fearful... Now, it is not much different.

Fortunately, the accommodation has improved...

From the Suspended Room of the skin-making servants, to the cold small Cave Mansion of South Bamboo Peak, to the independent hilltop at Paperman Peak, and now to a spacious Secret Realm.

And the days have become leisurely...

From the daily tasks of "complete or die," to working nine-to-five with colleague "Wang Shimei," to leading two apprentices in the Shadow Puppet Pavilion, and now to a life where he can choose whether to make skin without urgency, even sleeping in if he wishes.

As for life...

"Phew..."

Song Yan rubbed his hands, turning a wooden stick on which an entire cleaned snow deer was skewered.

The deer's body had not only been bled out and blanched in boiling water but also marinated for a long time in sauce. At this moment, as the stick turned, the fat sizzled and dripped, releasing an enticing fragrance.

Summer, mountaintop, heavy snow, sitting across from a beautiful lady eating roasted meat, coupled with a jug of wild brew beside him—Song Yan couldn't imagine anything more comfortable than this life.

Madam Ling wasn't a gourmand. She had been indulging in earthly delicacies since childhood, so exquisite dishes mattered little to her, and the Fasting Pill was just right for her.

But seeing Song Yan enjoy it so much, she took a deer leg, slowly tearing off some meat, putting it into her small mouth, chewing and swallowing slowly, finding it just so-so.

Yet Song Yan ate with great pleasure.

It was a feeling of freedom, as if one were beyond the heavens, free of all shackles, without any need for pretense.

He admired the snow, ate meat, drank wine, and then drunkenly leaned towards Madam Ling, tugging at her clothing, murmuring, "After being full, one thinks of..."

Before he could finish, Madam Ling coldly said, "Brother Song should focus on restraint and not let the word 'desire' disturb your mind."

Though she said that, she still voluntarily straightened herself, letting her long dress fall, entwining with Song Yan. She constantly reminded him to avoid overstepping in drunken stupor and ruining the cultivation.

The rustling sounds mixed with the heavy snow on the mountaintop, luxurious silk dresses were occasionally disheveled but quickly straightened by Madam Ling, accompanied by a few gentle reminders.

After the cultivation, both felt refreshed; perhaps their bodies were slightly tired, but their moods were undisturbed, calm and peaceful.

The Dual Cultivation Technique of the Demon Sect made the Absorber full of energy and fervent with desire, which, if not restrained, would constantly boil over.

But the technique of the Righteous Dao didn't benefit much in terms of energy, yet it clearly helped in terms of temperament.

Recalling the time when Bai Xiuhu's Dao heart collapsed and how he became a different person, Song Yan vaguely felt that this Sword Cultivator truly valued temperament extraordinarily.

...

...

A month later...

On the branches outside Snake Corpse Market, a pitch-black raven swayed—a bodiless Illusion Raven.

The eyes of the Illusion Raven stared at the empty barren expanse not far away, leaving only some vacant houses, the "Ghost Market".

The swollen skins of snake corpses under the exposed ground were gone, and naturally, the Profound Qi here had disappeared as well.

Pat...

The branch trembled, the bodiless Illusion Raven took flight, swirling around, yet saw not a single living soul!

Suddenly, the Illusion Raven lightly landed, glanced at the fragmented pieces of the Profound Artifact Gourd obscured by fallen leaves, and then quickly flew off... continuing its patrol.

During this patrol, traces of battles were discovered everywhere.

In some places, coagulated blood from cultivators still remained, prolonging its existence, thus it hadn't dispersed yet.

But there were no cultivator corpses in sight.

Suddenly, the raven's pupils spun quickly, focusing on a flicker of firelight between the forested mountains not far away, and then flapped its wings to fly over.

The firelight was candlelight within a mountain wooden house.

The Illusion Raven had just made it halfway there when a hoarse, eerie laughter echoed from the wooden house, followed by the faint sound of banners swaying, and the previously calm forest suddenly whipped up a storm of sand and rock.

Trees uprooted, stones and debris flew wildly, the sky darkened, the entire scene turned into a vortex that enveloped the bodiless Illusion Raven within.

A colossal purple figure nearly a yard high emerged from the ground, reaching for the Illusion Raven.

The Illusion Raven, like a small boat caught in a swirling vortex, struggled desperately but inevitably drifted toward the center.

The gigantic purple figure, unaffected by the wind and sand, lunged at the Illusion Raven in no time.

The figure was not a person but a purple corpse with bizarrely floating hair all over its body, purple skin, bulging eyes, and a bloated form!

Of course, the Illusion Raven wasn't actually a raven but a Shadow Puppet.

In the blink of an eye, the giant hands of the Purple Corpse clapped like hammers.

The Illusion Raven hurriedly flapped its wings, flipping to dodge.

Snap!!

The hands clapped firmly.

The Illusion Raven narrowly avoided the blow but was thrown off balance by the ensuing gust, as if a kite with its string cut, spinning head over heels in the air.