“Just surrender, I have already killed the a.s.sa.s.sins. Don’t create any more trouble than necessary. Take the bodies and bury them deeply in the ground so that the people of the house aren’t alarmed. Put down any crossbows and blades you have.”

A jade-like glow reflected off Hong Xuanji’s face, flickering in the torch light.

There were the dead bodies of two men penetrated by swords.

Behind Hong Xuanji stood an array of soldiers in fighting positions, their long knives out of their sheaths. They breathed lightly even with their heavy steel armor on. Sharpness and cruelty exuded from their bodies.

This was the elite guard in the manor, the Modao Guard.

The long knives in their hands were made of steel refined hundreds of times, about four fingers wide, and as tall as an ordinary adult. They stood there quietly, looking fierce enough to tear up an opposing soldiers on horseback any time.

The knives were called Mo. When Hong Xuanji was young, he used to lead eight hundred of Modao Guard and broke a one thousand people team of cavalrymen from Yun Meng Empire, a legendary win never achieved by any same sized team of infantrymen.

Although there were only thirty of them here in the manor, every single one of them were the best of the Modao Guard, the closest convoy of the Marquis himself.

Soldiers who have endured the mountain of dead bodies and the ocean of bloods like them would never be terrified by any army. Souls and ghosts could not even get near them.

What was even more terrifying was that there were about thirty to forty archers hidden around them. They had their crossbows loaded, ready to fire anytime.

That was the Crossbow Guard.

The crossbows that they had in their hands were crimson-colored, with calibers carved onto their bodies. The tightened strings were loaded with power. People felt like they were about to be penetrated by the arrows just looking at the crossbow.

Those were the Shenbi Crossbow, only available in the Great Qian Empire, loaded with three hundred kilos of power, and the archers could just stretch up the strings with their bare hands!

This kind of crossbow could break through any kind of steel armor fifty or less steps away.

If targeted by forty of these crossbows, no martial artist would survive.

The Modao Guards guarded the surrounding with their knives at the ready, the Crossbow Guards tightened their crossbows and prepared to shoot, and Hong Xuanji stood at the center, dressed in an exquisite silk gown, like an undefeatable giant of martial arts.

“Put off the fire. Do not alarm the family. Carry out the dead bodies and bury them deep!” the head of the guards said after hearing Hong Xuanji, waving his hand.

Kang!

Thirty something knives made a single sound going back to their sheaths. The motion was scarily uniform.

The torches were put down subsequently. Now there was only starlight.

“I am late, Your Highness. Please punish me.”

The leader of the guards stepped forward in front of Hong Xuanji and kneeled down on one knee.

He did not completely kneel down. The heavy steel armor on his body prevented him from doing the full set of etiquette. The full set of armor weighed sixty kilograms. Only the best of best could move around freely like there was nothing on them.

“I only talked briefly with the a.s.sa.s.sin, and you have already arrived with the armor and swords. That was faster than when you were still in the army. Why would I blame you?” the Marquis asked. He pressed his hands down. “Release your armor. Go back to sleep.”

“But, marquis, your safety…”

“People capable of killing me are Yang G.o.ds and those at the end of the path of martial arts. The world is simply not lucky enough to have one yet.” Hong Xuanji looked up at the sky, “Bai Ziyue, you want to challenge me to a duel–please do not disappoint me.”

Ordering the subordinates to go back, Hong Xuanji remembered the soul pa.s.sing by, thinking, “the soul has been severely harmed by me. It should be fine that it escaped. With that kind of injury, it shouldn’t last longer than ten days.”

   …………………………………………………………………………………………………
Hong Yi’s soul floated out intensely, filled with shock.

Fortunately, he was only spiritual at the moment and had no shape. He was able to pa.s.s through the walls with no problem. Otherwise, he would have had his head broken and bleeding.

After running all the way to his little yard and returning to his body, Hong Yi was still shaken to the core. He could still hear his heart beating violently. The blood rushed to his head, causing dizziness.

He had survived.

“Scholars value being poised and calm, not being rushed by accidents. Even when faced with death, one should not even frown, charming to the end. Looks like I still have a long way to go to reach that level of accomplishment.”

After a long while, Hong Yi still could not calm down and concentrate. He felt tired all the time, exhausted but never able to fall asleep and get any rest.

He felt like his head was about to explode.

“I must have hurt my soul,” Hong Yi thought.

Hong Yi knew that when he was at the center of the manor, he received too much of a shock, added with running from his father, his soul must have been injured.

Great pleasure, sadness, horror, and surprise are all bad for the spirit. This was a concept that not just martial cultivators, but even scholars understood.

Some time ago, a scholars saw a really attractive lady and couldn’t stop thinking about her. Only after half a month, the scholar became very thin and diseased. Eventually, he died because his soul was hurt.

When the soul was hurt, people could get exhausted, but just unable to have any inner peace and rest. He couldn’t sleep all day, all night, in disturbance.

He lit up a sandalwood incense, cleaned his hand, ground ink, and started writing the word “calm”.

It did not work.

Since he could not be calm and collected, even his calligraphy was distorted and twisted. It was not nearly on the same level as before.

“Without calm and poise, even calligraphy won’t help. The words are a reflection of my troubled soul. I wonder if father has noticed my inner disturbance.” Hong Yi looked at the bad writing. He balled the paper up and threw it in the trash.

“I can’t sleep, can’t calm down. If nothing changes, I will probably die within ten days.” Hong Yi could only laugh in bitterness.

“Well, I should probably just take a look at the Mituo Sutra.”

Hong Yi took out the Mituo Sutra from near his body and spread it out on the bed, trying to appreciate the painting with only the dim starlight from outside.

He wasn’t reading the script. He was merely appreciating the painting and calligraphy as artwork.

“I don’t think even the best artist alive now is capable of making this. If I could write like this, I’d probably get first place in the imperial exam without even collecting my words. The calligraphy itself would be enough to give me a t.i.tle. The posture of this buddha is just amazing. I bet even Qian Daozi wouldn’t be able draw such a thing.”

Qian Daozi, the saint of painting, was the highest achieving painter in the Great Qian Dynasty, specialising in the painting of religious figures. Every single one of his paintings would cost thousands of pounds of gold to acquire.

“The fact that the Mituo Sutra is such an ultimate guidebook to cultivation is not because of how abstract its methods are. After all, there is no easy shortcut to cultivation. The best of methods will not create a Yang G.o.d in a day. The value of this sutra mostly lies in the beautiful craft that goes into producing this calligraphy and painting and the character it projects. This painting is the true essence of Buddhism. I do not worship buddha myself, but I couldn’t help but have awe of this artwork.”

All of a sudden, Hong Yi had a revelation.

He looked only at the artistic side of the sutra.

Just as this revelation surfaced, the image of this Mituo Buddha suddenly engraved deeply into his mind.

Bang!

It was like a buddha suddenly appeared deep in Hong Yi’s soul, floating in s.p.a.ce.

Visualizing this buddha which looked like his former life, Hong Yi felt complete peace in his mind, like he just had freedom to fly around in this boundless, endlessly large s.p.a.ce.

Hong Yi calmed down. His soul did not feel hurt anymore, but warm, soaked in a bath warm.

He fell asleep immediately. He slept soundly without dreams.

He woke up. It was a bright new day.

“That was good sleep. It’s like the sky just immediately lit up after I fell asleep.”

Hong Yi woke up in the morning and stretched a little. Everything was just nice in his breaths and movements. Not a bit of unpleasantness.

The horror and exhaustion after the soul injury last night was completely gone. Unlimited confidence and satisfaction filled his mind.

Hong Yi knew that his soul had healed.

The Mituo Sutra’s practicing method, doesn’t rely on comprehending complex concepts, rather it’s mainly trained by using the portrait. After understanding the grace of the portrait, just visualizing the buddha can suppress all frightening thoughts, and eliminate damage to the soul caused by too much excitement.

After a cultivators spirit has left it’s sh.e.l.l, it’s impossible to avoid the many and varied damage the spirit can incur. But just focusing on visualizing the Mituo Sutras portrait, can allow for the fastest recovery speed of the spirit.

It’s almost like how a martial cultivator can’t avoid injury when training and needing a hundred days to fully recover suddenly getting a miracle cure, allowing their injuries to heal on the next day. With this, how fast would the martial cultivator be able to improve his training? How much more powerful can he become?

The buddha in the Mituo Sutra has already reached the very peak, just visualizing the image has the same effect as a miracle medicine. It’s able to completely soothe the body and mind.

In one night, Hong Yi’s damaged spirit was able to completely recover.

This kind of situation is something not even Hong Xuanji could antic.i.p.ate happening.