A violent torrent of spiritual power raged through Qin Yi’s meridians.
It was the essence of the three cultivators he had just devoured—its sheer volume and chaotic blood-qi far surpassed that of mere mortals or beasts.
If Liu Meng’s breakthrough had been like three steady streams flowing gently into a river, then what Qin Yi endured now was three volcanoes erupting at once, bursting their banks in destruction.
Scorching, violent, brimming with annihilation.
Had this force entered the body of an ordinary cultivator, their meridians would have ruptured instantly, their bodies exploding on the spot.
Yet Qin Yi’s face showed no pain—only a faint trace of exhilaration.
The Blood Feast Codex was, after all, a demonic art of body refinement.
His flesh had been honed again and again through devouring and refining, making it incomparably resilient, far surpassing others of his realm.
What other cultivators fled from in terror, Qin Yi welcomed as nourishment—the perfect tempering for his body.
He didn’t even need to guide it. He simply let the raging current of power crash about inside him, scouring his limbs and bones. His durable meridians, like vast and steady river channels, contained the flood that could have destroyed all.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, a crisp cracking sound rang out from within him.
It was louder and clearer than when Liu Meng broke through, like solid ice shattering beneath a hammer.
Broken!
The bottleneck to mid-stage Qi Refining—broken!
A surge of spiritual power, several times stronger than before, erupted from his body, sweeping outward with a storm tainted by the stench of blood, scattering corpses across the ground.
Fourth Level of Qi Refining—achieved!
Qin Yi slowly opened his eyes, feeling the condensed spiritual power within him. His expression was calm—no wild joy, no triumphant outburst.
Not only had he experienced something similar before, but everything… was as he had expected.
His guess was right.
Disciples of the Xuanpin Sect required controlling three cultivators of the same realm to break into mid-stage Qi Refining.
For the disciples of the Blood Feast Valley, the condition for breakthrough was—killing three cultivators of the same realm.
At that moment, a voice rang out from behind him, calm and unhurried:
“Not bad.”
Qin Yi stiffened. Even though he had expected it, he still hadn’t sensed when the person appeared.
He turned slowly. Behind him stood two figures.
One wore the black-and-white robes of the sect, his aura deep and unmeasurable—clearly the sect’s overseer for this trial.
The other, with a sinister expression and predatory gaze, his gray robe fluttering in the wind, was none other than Feng Wuya—the man who had forced Liu Liu into despair.
Suppressing the unease in his eyes, Qin Yi lowered his head and bowed respectfully:
“Disciple Qin Yi greets the Immortals.”
The overseer chuckled lightly.
“Since you’ve stepped upon the path, there’s no need for such titles. Call us senior brothers.”
“I am Zhou Hairui. He is Feng Wuya.”
Qin Yi quickly adjusted:
“Yes, Senior Brother Zhou, Senior Brother Feng.”
Zhou Hairui seemed in good spirits. He glanced at Feng Wuya and spoke warmly:
“Junior Brother, after four trials, at last we have another disciple who reached the fourth level of Qi Refining upon entering. This time your hosting will surely earn praise. Truly worth celebrating.”
Feng Wuya forced a stiff smile, bowing hurriedly:
“I wouldn’t dare, the congratulations should go to Senior Brother Zhou. Blood Feast Valley has gained another fine seedling.”
Their exchange, harmonious on the surface, allowed Qin Yi to loosen his tightly strung nerves—if they weren’t about to fight, that was good enough.
But in the next instant, a frigid, piercing chill descended upon him.
“A fine seedling… is he?”
Zhou Hairui’s once-gentle voice turned cold and razor-sharp. He fixed his gaze on Qin Yi as if peeling him apart layer by layer.
Qin Yi felt as though he had been plunged into an icy abyss. Why had the man’s attitude shifted so suddenly?
Did he see something?
Impossible. If Zhou Hairui truly knew his secret, he would have already been slain, just like Shen Qingyun, before the trial even ended.
Then why?
As Qin Yi’s thoughts raced, Zhou Hairui’s chilling voice echoed again:
“Tell me—why did you kill only the guilty, and not the innocent?”
The meaning struck Qin Yi at once.
The man doubted his allegiance.
Because he had behaved “too righteous,” he had drawn suspicion!
At once, Qin Yi brought out the explanation he had prepared long ago:
“Reporting to Senior Brother, this disciple simply had… a feeling. While cultivating the Blood Feast Codex, I faintly sensed that some people must die, and some must not. If I killed too recklessly, something ill would occur. So, I chose only those you would call guilty.”
“May I ask, Senior Brother Zhou… was my premonition correct?”
The suffocating chill vanished instantly, like a tide receding.
Zhou Hairui’s face softened again, his eyes holding a glimmer of approval.
“Indeed, your feeling is correct. In time, you’ll understand why.”
“Tell me—have you ever heard the term Xushi?”
Qin Yi shook his head.
He hadn’t—but the word immediately reminded him of the three paths he had heard of before:
Lishi Pavilion’s Yinxue, the Sancai Workshop’s Wushang, and Luo Feng City’s Weijian.
Almost instinctively, he asked:
“Is it… another Path?”
Zhou Hairui’s eyes shone brighter with praise. He even clapped his hands in admiration.
“Excellent! You truly have talent—to pierce the mystery in a single word!”
Turning to Feng Wuya, he added coolly:
“See? This is true genius. Do you still think his actions were foolishness?”
Feng Wuya’s face darkened further. He knew Zhou Hairui was seizing the chance to admonish him.
After all, he had dismissed Qin Yi’s actions as nonsense.
But before Zhou Hairui, he dared not argue. He bowed instead.
“Senior Brother Zhou’s eyes see all. I was mistaken.”
Qin Yi observed it all.
He knew Feng Wuya now bore resentment against him.
But it didn’t matter—he had already marked Feng Wuya as one he must kill. Sooner or later, he or one of his avatars would take the man’s head, to honor Liu Liu.
For now, what mattered was the far more dangerous Zhou Hairui.
The good news was that he had gained the man’s favor, which would make his cultivation in the Blood Feast Valley far smoother.
Yet Zhou Hairui suddenly smiled again, asking a question that caught him completely off guard:
“Qin Yi, you said some should be killed, and some not, so you slew only the guilty.
But many of those you killed were not sinners by nature.
You must know—it was because of me that they became what they were.
Now… do you still believe they were the ones who deserved to die?”