Chapter 26: Rain and People

10 0 0
                                    

When the second rainfall arrived, Qin Kaiyi sensed the subtle shift in the air. The oppressive humidity clung to his skin, and the scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. It was a peculiar sensation, one that whispered secrets to his soul.

He sat cross-legged in the heart of a dark, cold cave, the walls slick with moisture. The spiritual qi that permeated the air was thick, almost tangible. Qin Kaiyi focused, channeling it through his meridians, weaving it into something darker, more potent. Demonic qi. The transformation was slow, deliberate—a dance with forbidden forces.

Yan Gu, the enigmatic figure who had thrust him into this perilous path, had bestowed upon him a secret method. A method that allowed him to harness the very essence of darkness. So far, he had succeeded in concealing his newfound power, veiling it from prying eyes. But Yan Gu’s cryptic words lingered, a shadow over their alliance. Why the secrecy? What was Yan Gu hiding?

Qin Kaiyi’s inquiries were met with silence. Yan Gu’s lips remained sealed, his gaze evasive. The guilt in his eyes betrayed him, a flicker of remorse that danced on the edge of truth. Qin Kaiyi had no choice but to let the matter rest—for now.

Shen Feixiao, his once-companion, had faded into memory. Five months had passed since their parting, and Qin Kaiyi had sought refuge in this hidden cave. Here, he cultivated, his days blending into one seamless meditation. The righteous path was slow, deliberate, its progress marked by painstaking effort. But demonic cultivation was different. It flowed like an underground river, unseen and unbidden.

And now, as the second rainfall painted the cave entrance with silver streaks, Qin Kaiyi felt the stirrings of change. He had broken through, transcending mortal limitations. Unlike righteous cultivators who faced the Heavenly Tribulations with trembling hearts, demonic cultivators slipped into their fasting periods without fanfare. No lightning bolts, no celestial wrath. Only quiet acceptance.

Did he truly break through? Qin Kaiyi wondered. His body no longer hungered for sustenance; he subsisted on the very essence of qi. The cave walls whispered secrets, and he listened. Perhaps this was his destiny—to walk the razor’s edge between light and shadow, hunger and power.

As the rain intensified, Qin Kaiyi closed his eyes. The hidden treasure pavilion would soon open, revealing its mysteries. And he, the reluctant disciple of darkness, would step forth. The path ahead was uncertain, but he would tread it with purpose. For within those ancient walls lay answers—answers that could reshape his fate and unlock the truth behind Yan Gu’s guarded silence. 🌧️🌑🔮

The relentless rain had become a fixture in Qin Kaiyi’s existence. A ceaseless downpour that blurred the line between days, weeks, and months. He had anticipated this deluge from the outset, and so he sat, golden mask concealing his features, gray robe clinging to his form. The cave’s mouth framed a world of water, a curtain of silver that whispered secrets.

But it was not the rain that consumed his thoughts. No, it was the immortal daoist aura he had wrested from the very fabric of existence. A forbidden power, pulsing within him. He had squeezed it out, drop by drop, until it stained his soul. The cost was high, but the rewards were greater. He could feel it—the path to ascension, the bridge between realms.

Entering the fasting period had transformed Qin Kaiyi. Like grains of sand sifted through a sieve, his mind settled. No longer irritable, no longer lost. His purpose crystallized: to return home. Shen Feixiao, the one he had left behind, haunted his dreams. Five months—a mere heartbeat for a righteous cultivator. Time flowed like water, slipping through his fingers. And yet, the unique talisman in his storage ring spoke the truth: half a year had vanished.

The food stored within the ring had dwindled, but Qin Kaiyi’s hunger had shifted. He no longer craved sustenance; instead, he sought solace in alcohol. A peculiar addiction, born of solitude. Each day without wine was a torment, a gnawing ache that tightened his nerves. His supply was finite, and desperation set in. He had to leave this secret realm, return to the mortal world. For days without wine were not meant for humans to endure. 🌧️🍷🔮

a smile from the villain ( ASV)Where stories live. Discover now