Chapter Fifty-Eight: New Spells and Tragedy

After a little more than an hour, the hundreds of golden points overhead had all been absorbed by Feng Yuan. At this moment, the ball of golden light within his dantian began to shine once more. Though it had yet to return to its normal level, it was already sufficient for a single use.

With the golden light restored, Feng Yuan could barely contain his excitement as he immediately began to test the hand gestures he had performed within the acupoint. He wanted to see what they truly meant—whether, as he suspected, they were the key to a spell.

As Feng Yuan moved his hands, the golden light within his dantian shot forth, rushing directly toward the acupoint in his chest. With a sudden surge, the light plunged into the acupoint, and in the next instant, an invisible energy rebounded from within, spreading rapidly along his meridians until it suffused his entire body.

In that instant, Feng Yuan found himself floating above his bed, an indescribable lightness filling him, as if he had become nothing more than a balloon filled with hydrogen.

He stared in shock at his own hovering form, unable to believe that the hand gestures he had mimed within the acupoint truly constituted a spell—and not just any spell, but one that allowed him to fly.

A thought flickered through his mind, and in the next moment, he soared from the bed, flying about the room. He needed only to think of where he wished to go, and there he would be in an instant, as effortlessly as when he’d controlled the dagger with sword-riding technique.

“Hahaha… I can’t believe it—I can fly! I must be the first scholar-rogue in history to take flight, am I not?”

Delight flooded Feng Yuan’s heart. As he thought this, he spun joyfully through the air, his whole body filled with lightness—a sensation so wonderful it was almost intoxicating.

Just yesterday, he’d tried to use the sword-riding technique to fly, only to nearly smash his most delicate parts with a hoe. Yet today, he had mastered a genuine flying spell. It was bliss.

With this flying spell, even if he ran into trouble, he could escape unscathed if need be. He’d gained a new means of survival.

“Bang!”

“Ow, my—!”

His joy had lasted less than a minute before he crashed down from midair, landing hard in a straddling position atop the long bench in the room. The impact was directly between his legs, and Feng Yuan clutched himself in agony. It was the very definition of joy turning to sorrow, and a rather miserable one at that. Yesterday, his manhood had suffered; today, it was once more in mourning. He wasn’t even married yet—what if he ended up a eunuch from all this?

“Young master, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” came Hu Xiao’s anxious voice from outside. The door was pushed open and she hurried in. Seeing Feng Yuan on the ground, doubled over in pain, she rushed to his side.

“I’m fine, no need to rub it. I can manage myself!” Feng Yuan said hurriedly, seeing Hu Xiao approach. He sprang to his feet, still holding his groin, and shuffled toward the bed.

Hu Xiao, however, watched him with concern. “But young master, you hurt yourself there yesterday as well as today. Shouldn’t I take a look to check the injury? Let me help you take off your trousers and have a proper look. If it’s swollen, that’s not good!”

“…No need. I can assure you with absolute confidence, there’s nothing wrong. I’ve trained for this. Go on, get back to your work!” Feng Yuan said through gritted teeth, waving her away. This girl’s sense of propriety was growing ever more questionable. Did she not know the difference between men and women? A careful look, she said. If she looked, of course it would be swollen. Clearly, she just wanted to make fun of him.

“Really?”

“Really. There’s no need to worry. I’ve trained in the Iron Groin skill of Shaolin Temple!”

“Well, alright then. Please take care, young master!” Hu Xiao nodded, though she seemed somewhat reluctant as she turned and left.

Feng Yuan remained clutching his trousers for quite some time before he finally recovered. Truly, that was a man’s most vulnerable spot—far too fragile. If only there were a spell to make that part as tough as diamond.

He then checked the reason for his fall: the golden light in his dantian was depleted. This flying spell, like the sword-riding technique, required a substantial reserve of golden light—without it, flight was impossible.

However, as long as the golden light in his dantian was restored to normal, he should be able to fly for five minutes or so without issue. His cultivation had increased, and now the golden light in his dantian was the size of a soybean.

He wondered if the golden light within him would eventually become like the inner cores of the wolf demon and the weasel demon, which were each the size of an egg. If his cultivation followed the same path as theirs, the gap between them would be immense.

But he was human, so surely his path of cultivation differed from that of the demons. Human cultivation—what was it truly like? With no one to consult, Feng Yuan was left to fumble his way forward, utterly confused.

How he wished there were someone of his kind to talk to.

After resting in his room for a while, he heard Hu Xiao calling from outside, summoning him for breakfast. It was already the next morning. He opened the door to brilliant sunshine; it was nearly ten o’clock, and his stomach was growling with hunger.

Hu Xiao had already set out the meal, fragrant and tempting, but the portions were small—only half the usual amount. The rice was normal, but there were far fewer side dishes, especially meat.

“Young master, we’re out of food. We’ll need to go into town to buy more,” Hu Xiao said. The last time they’d returned from town, they hadn’t brought back much meat, since it was summer and fresh meat wouldn’t keep long. They could only buy live poultry, but couldn’t bring too many back at once. With their appetites, supplies ran out quickly.

“I understand. I’ll go into town to buy some this afternoon. Let’s eat first,” Feng Yuan said to Hu Xiao, and the two of them prepared to eat.

Just as they were about to begin, a familiar voice rang out from outside. “Feng Yuan! Feng Yuan, I’m here to see you!”

Feng Yuan went to look and saw, sure enough, Zhang Chubby—absent these past couple of days—storming into his home, red-faced and out of breath.

“That fat fool’s timing is impeccable—he’s even calculated when we eat,” Feng Yuan thought to himself.

“Feng Yuan! Feng Yuan! Aren’t you happy to see me?” Zhang Chubby came running up, panting and wiping sweat from his brow, his face alight with excitement.

“Not really. If you’d come a little later, I’d be even happier,” Feng Yuan replied sourly.

“Wow, it smells amazing! Are you eating? Perfect, I’m starving. Feng Yuan, you’re so thoughtful—knowing I’d come all this way to see you and preparing food for me. I love you for it!” Zhang Chubby said, heading straight for the kitchen.

“Your sister—do you ever listen to a word I say?” Feng Yuan cursed inwardly, hurrying after him. The three of them ended up eating together.

The meal was quickly finished. Zhang Chubby sat back in satisfaction, rubbing his belly, while Feng Yuan and Hu Xiao were both less than pleased. They’d barely had enough to eat themselves, and now Zhang Chubby had stolen a share. No wonder their stomachs felt so empty. The two of them glared at Zhang Chubby, resentment brewing in their hearts.

“So, why are you here?” Feng Yuan asked.

“Heh, Feng Yuan, we’re brothers—one day apart feels like three years. I haven’t seen you in two or three days and I’ve missed you terribly!” Zhang Chubby said with a smile that made Feng Yuan’s skin crawl.

“Get lost!” Feng Yuan shot him a look. “You never show up unless you want something. Out with it—what is it this time?”

“Well, alright, I do have something. But it’s your business,” Zhang Chubby replied, looking at Feng Yuan.