Chapter 2: Refining the Protective Charm
Song Changsheng took out a three-legged, double-handled bronze cauldron. With a wave of his right hand, the character for "Fire" flashed across his palm and vanished. At once, a mass of orange-red flames ignited at the bottom of the cauldron, blazing fiercely.
He tossed in the jade pendant, about the size of a chicken egg, and murmured, “Since I’m making it, I must do it right. But this jade is too brittle, I'll need to add some Cangbai Clay to enhance its strength.”
With that, he took out a jade bottle and poured in some white powder, then channeled his spiritual energy to intensify the flames.
The bronze cauldron quickly turned red under the scorching tongues of fire. The jade pendant within began to meld with the Cangbai Clay, forming tiny white specks across its originally verdant surface.
Song Changsheng then added several other mineral powders in succession, gradually fortifying the fragile jade. After about an hour, the reshaped and reforged pendant was finally complete.
Next came the inscription of formation patterns. As the saying goes: since ancient times, formations and artifacts have always gone hand in hand. A skilled artifact refiner must possess mastery in formations as well.
Likewise, an exceptional formation master must also understand artifact refinement, for the two arts are deeply intertwined.
To inscribe a formation onto a special magical tool is to enhance its quality. Similarly, constructing formations often requires refining formation bases and flags. Being able to craft them personally is ideal.
Thanks to years of comprehending Daoist scripture, Song Changsheng’s perception far surpassed that of ordinary cultivators. Not only was he a superior-grade first-rank Artifact Refiner, but also a superior-grade first-rank Formation Master, a rare dual-path cultivator. That was why Song Changming had come to him.
“This talisman is meant for a mortal, but it’s best to focus on defense. If anything were to go wrong in the future, it might bring harm to Song Xi instead.”
After a brief moment of thought, Song Changsheng gripped the jade pendant and began channeling his spiritual sense, carefully inscribing formation patterns within it.
“To gather spiritual energy, I’ll need a miniature Spirit-Gathering Array, and an Aura-Sensing Formation, one that activates upon detecting killing intent to protect its wearer.”
“It’s my first time arranging such a chained formation. I’ll need to focus all my attention.”
His spiritual sense moved like a carving blade, etching intricate formation lines into the interior of the jade pendant. Before long, the two basic formations were complete and linked together.
At the moment the formation succeeded, Song Changsheng could sense a small vortex forming within the pendant, slowly absorbing the surrounding spiritual energy.
“For defense, I’ll use the Spiritual Shield Array. Full 360-degree protection without blind spots, that should give peace of mind.” Muttering to himself, he quickly inscribed the third formation.
Originally, that would have been the end. But then he remembered the Water-Fire Commanding Technique he had just comprehended. After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the pendant once more and infused a wisp of fire energy into it.
Thanks to the secret art, his control over fire spiritual energy had become incredibly refined. The trace of fire merged perfectly, and the once cool jade pendant now radiated a gentle warmth.
Looking at his masterpiece, Song Changsheng chuckled, “If I had this ability in my past life, I could’ve mass-produced warm jade. Definitely would’ve made a fortune.”
He hadn’t intended to add any offensive capabilities to the talisman, but upon reflection, he realized prolonged defense alone might not suffice. This was his final lifeline left for Song Xi.
If she ever encountered a cultivator, she could shatter the pendant, unleashing the hidden fire within. Caught off guard, even a cultivator at the early Qi Refinement stage might perish on the spot.
“Phew, finally fulfilled my big brother’s request. I’ll deliver it to him tomorrow,” Song Changsheng murmured as he looked at the evening glow outside the window.
After tidying up, he prepared some spiritual rice porridge to fill his belly. As a Qi Refinement cultivator, he hadn’t reached the stage of long-term fasting and still needed regular meals.
He could’ve used a Fasting Pill instead, but those were reserved for the Foundation Establishment elders of the clan. To obtain one, one had to exchange contribution points which were precious and scarce and seldom spent for such things.
After finishing his porridge, he saw the time was right and strolled to the pond in the backyard to begin his evening cultivation.
The cultivation technique he practiced, Yin-Yang Mystical Essence Sutra, was quite unique. It required absorbing the essence of the sun during the hours of Mao(5-7am) and Chen(7-9am), and the essence of the moon during Xu(7-9pm) and Hai(9-11pm) hours.
The sun’s brilliance and moonlight, one yin, one yang, combined to form Primal Energy, stored in his dantian and spiritual sea.
This Primal Energy held boundless potential; harmonizing water and fire was just one of its many uses. Over the years, he had only managed to store a single mouthful...
At dawn the next day, after finishing his cultivation, Song Changsheng set off down the mountain.
Within the Song Clan, living quarters were strictly divided. The summit, with the densest spiritual energy, was reserved for the clan leader or Purple Mansion cultivators during secluded cultivation.
But ever since the last Purple Mansion cultivator Song Yun’gui passed away a century ago, the Song Clan had not produced another. Currently, the most powerful was the clan leader Song Xianming, at the peak of Foundation Establishment and a third-rank low-grade Formation Master, the clan’s stabilizing pillar.
He was also Song Changsheng’s paternal grandfather, and many believed Song Changsheng inherited his formation talent from him.
The mountainside housed the clan's leadership and some core members. Song Changsheng, as a Foundation Establishment seed, qualified to live there.
Other clansmen lived at the foot of the mountain or on nearby spiritual peaks. While not as rich in energy, they were still rare cultivation grounds.
Song Changming’s courtyard was nestled beside a field of spiritual grain. It was early spring, and the verdant stalks of spirit wheat swayed in the wind like dancers at a grand ball.
A little girl in green, her hair tied in two high pigtails, was frolicking through the fields, lively as a butterfly fluttering through the crops.
Standing at the edge of the field, Song Changsheng smiled gently and waved, “Xi’er, come here.”
The girl who was catching grasshoppers turned at the sound. When she saw Song Changsheng, her cherubic face lit up with a sweet smile, and she spread her arms and ran toward him.
He scooped the little girl into his arms with a laugh. “Xi’er, where’s your father?”
“Daddy went out on business,” Xi’er answered, her voice as clear and sweet as a silver bell, irresistibly endearing.
“I see... Do you still remember me?” His timing wasn’t perfect, but since little Song Xi was here, he could hand it over directly.
“You’re Little Uncle,” Xi’er said sweetly.
A delighted smile blossomed on Song Changsheng’s face. He took out the jade pendant and hung it on her waist. “Your father asked me to give this to you. Don’t lose it, and don’t touch it randomly, understand?”
Xi’er nodded her little head, “Got it, Little Uncle.”
With a flip of his hand, a spirit-rich fruit appeared in his palm, something he’d specially exchanged for at the Contribution Hall on his way down. For mortals, it granted a lifetime free from illness.
It was a small gift for his niece.
Xi’er happily gnawed at the fruit while snuggling in Song Changsheng’s arms. “Little Uncle, tell me a story!”
He’d only met this girl a few times, but each time, he’d tell her a story. It had become an unspoken tradition between them.
“Alright, how about I tell you the history of our clan today?” he said, placing her beneath a large tree.
Xi’er’s eyes curved like crescent moons as she eagerly sat beside him.
With a nostalgic look in his eyes, Song Changsheng began, “Our Song Clan descends from an ancient Core Formation family.
"Our ancestor, Song Taiyi, was banished due to a crime. After wandering for some time, he arrived at the Wangyue Mountain Range. With his mighty Purple Mansion cultivation, he slew a great demon and claimed the only third-rank spiritual vein in Ling Province.
"There, he founded our clan. Leveraging the region’s abundant mineral resources, the family grew rapidly and soon dominated all of Ling Province.
"Later, he trained Ancestor Yun’gui to reach the Purple Mansion realm, and our clan reached unprecedented heights.
"But fate is ever-changing. Less than a hundred years after Ancestor Taiyi’s passing, ancestor Yun’gui perished in battle against another great demon. From that point on, our clan declined, forced to give up many interests and share Ling Province with five other Foundation Establishment powers.
"Even so, there were always those who sought to seize our home, especially the Lieyang Sect, overlords of neighboring Yan Province, who ceaselessly oppressed us.
"To resist them, ten years ago, your great-grandfather secretly entered seclusion to break through to the Purple Mansion stage. But a traitor leaked the news. Lieyang Sect launched a full-scale assault.
"Just as our clan teetered on the brink, your great-grandfather ended his breakthrough prematurely and took command of the clan’s protective array, driving them off…”
When the story ended, Song Changsheng looked at Xi’er and asked, “Did you remember it?”
Xi’er nodded vigorously, then raised her little fists and huffed, “The Lieyang Sect is so evil! Why do they bully us?”
Song Changsheng didn’t answer. Instead, he patted her head and murmured, “You must always remember. Never forget.”
No one in the Song Clan could forget this chapter of history, it was their very foundation.
In that battle ten years ago, the clan lost five Foundation Establishment cultivators and over a hundred disciples. Song Xianming suffered grave injuries from halting his breakthrough, and now required long-term seclusion to suppress the damage.
Song Changsheng had seen it all: his father’s blood spilling across the sky, and the bodies of beloved uncles strewn across the battlefield. That scene would haunt him forever.
In the aftermath, the entire clan wore mourning white. Every household grieved. This deep-seated hatred must be etched into the bones of every Song clansman.
Xi’er especially must remember. Were it not for that battle, her grandfather wouldn’t have died, and her father wouldn’t have had to leave her side due to lack of manpower.
Xi’er seemed to sense something and sat quietly beside Song Changsheng. After a long silence, she looked up with her big eyes and asked, “Why do people have to fight? Can’t they just be friends?”
"Friends" in this world, that was a luxury. Desire knows no bounds. Everyone wants more resources.
When the Song Clan stood at its peak, dominating Ling Province, it had made enemies of many.
There was no answer to her question. In the world of cultivation, the law of the jungle reigns, big fish eat little fish. Right and wrong are irrelevant.
The two of them, one large and one small, sat silently beneath the tree.
But a child is a child. Emotions come and go quickly. Soon, she was lively again, dragging Song Changsheng to catch butterflies.
Only when Song Changming returned in the evening did Song Changsheng take his leave.
(Chapter End)