Holding the Sword to Carry Away Senior Sister (Transmigration) - Chapter 43

After eating and drinking her fill, Fu Yan leaned back lazily in her chair.

Although the Shui Ling Sect had a stronghold in Chaoyang City, traveling back and forth would take considerable time, so she decided to wait here for Shui Liuqing’s return. She booked a top-tier “Jiazi” room; after half a month on horseback, she was exhausted. Just as she was about to turn in for a good night’s sleep, she suddenly remembered something.

The storage ring of the horse bandits’ Third Leader was still in her possession! Due to the time pressure earlier, she hadn’t had a chance to check Lang Meng’s belongings. She had almost forgotten.

Back in her room, Fu Yan quickly pulled out the ring. After erasing Lang Meng’s soul mark, her consciousness entered the space within. The ring was of significantly better quality than ordinary ones; the interior was nearly the size of a small house, filled with a disorganized heap of items.

“As expected of a bandit leader, his wealth is indeed extraordinary,” Fu Yan marveled.

It took her nearly an hour to sort through the loot. Most notably, the low-grade spirit stones numbered over ten thousand, and there were several hundred mid-grade spirit stones. Looking at this fortune, Fu Yan was overjoyed. Just moments ago, she felt “poor enough to hear her own echoes,” but now she felt instantly wealthy.

Besides the stones, there was a pile of ordinary pills and a small bottle containing five or six Aura-Consolidating Pills. Considering her difficult mission reward was only a single one, this was a massive haul. Each was worth no less than 2,000 low-grade stones.

In a corner of the space stood a three-tier bookshelf containing various cultivation manuals, likely plundered from others. Fu Yan flipped through them curiously. She avoided those with obvious origins—using a manual clearly belonging to a specific sect or family was an easy way to invite trouble.

“Heavenly Strengthening Scripture?” Fu Yan’s gaze landed on a manual. It turned out to be a Grade 4 body-tempering technique. Lang Meng’s own durability had clearly come from this. However, since she already had her own body-tempering method, she put it back.

Since Lang Meng’s path was that of a body cultivator like Tong Zhen, most of the remaining manuals were for close-quarters strikes. Though Fu Yan was a sword cultivator, she knew the importance of having a fallback for close combat. She eventually picked out a formidable palm technique called the Cloud-Clearing Palm.

The Cloud-Clearing Palm was as gentle as water and white clouds, yet flowed with the force of a rapid current. It was designed to catch opponents off guard with a facade of weakness.

“This is the one,” Fu Yan nodded to herself.

As she was about to leave the ring’s space, she noticed something pressed under the very bottom of the bookshelf. Curiosity piqued, she pulled it out to find a very ragged, deformed remnant scroll covered in a thick layer of dust. Lang Meng had apparently used it as a shim to level his bookshelf.

Fuu—

Fu Yan blew away the dust and carefully spread it out. As the characters became visible, she was stunned.

“A sword manual?” This was a surprise. Even more shocking was that it appeared to be Earth-grade. Back at the sect, Yu Heng’s Human-grade high-tier swordplay had already amazed the crowd; an Earth-grade manual was a treasure beyond measure.

Fu Yan’s heart hammered against her ribs. However, as she read further, her excitement turned to a mix of joy and helplessness. The scroll was riddled with holes and weathered text. Being a remnant, the swordplay was incomplete.

After several readings, she identified only one move: “Wind Rolls the Clouds.” Even this single move had phrases lost to time. It was like a piece of fat meat that she could look at but not eat. No wonder Lang Meng used it to prop up his furniture. Unless someone could intuitively derive the missing parts, it was useless.

“Well, it’s Earth-grade after all. If I have time, I can try to learn it. If it works, great; if not, it’s just a bit of wasted time.”

The next morning, Fu Yan woke up feeling refreshed. Since Shui Liuqing wasn’t back yet, she headed toward the southern part of the city to find the cultivation chambers Bai Yueli had mentioned.

She found a steep stone cliff dotted with numerous cave entrances. Each entrance looked like a swirling vortex, blocking any divine sense from peering inside. A registrar, a young man at the ninth layer of Foundation Building, greeted her warmly.

“I’m new here,” Fu Yan said. “How are the rooms divided?”

“The chambers are split into High, Mid, and Low grades,” the man explained. “The environment inside is miraculous—sometimes hot as lava, sometimes cold as ice. You’ll understand once you’re inside.”

He continued, “High-grade rooms cost one mid-grade spirit stone per day. Mid-grade is 100 low-grade stones, and Low-grade is 50.”

Fu Yan whistled. Thinking of Bai Yueli staying for two months, she realized her Senior Sister was the quintessential “rich, beautiful elite,” likely spending sixty mid-grade stones just on the room alone.

“High-grade is best, but usually only those at the Late Opening Light stage can handle the intensity,” the man noted, glancing at her Middle-stage cultivation.

Fu Yan didn’t care. She had the funds now. “Are there any High-grade rooms left?”

The man checked his ledger. “You’re in luck; there is exactly one left. How many days?”

“Two days for now,” Fu Yan replied, handing over two mid-grade stones.

“Entrance three, on the left of the cliff,” the man pointed.

As Fu Yan turned to leave, an arrogant, impatient voice rang out behind her: “Registrar! Give me a High-grade cultivation chamber!”

A woman in light green robes stroded over. The registrar paled and bowed. “Miss Ye! You’ve arrived!”

Ye Zhiyan ignored him. “Same as usual. Give me a High-grade room, quickly.”

The registrar broke into a cold sweat. “I’m so sorry, Miss Ye, but the last High-grade room was just taken by this Daoist…”

Ye Zhiyan turned her gaze toward Fu Yan, her eyes narrowing. “What? You’re saying I’m too late?” She looked at the registrar with growing anger. “Then find a way to clear one out. Do you think I can’t afford a few dozen mid-grade stones?”

“N-no, but…” The man turned to Fu Yan with a pleading look. “Daoist, could you perhaps…”

“No, I cannot,” Fu Yan interrupted firmly. “First come, first served. That is the rule.”

The registrar whispered frantically to Fu Yan, “Daoist, this is the Second Miss of the Ye family in Chaoyang City, and an inner disciple of the Fengling Sect. It is best not to offend them. A Middle-stage cultivator like yourself would be better off in a Mid-grade room anyway…”

Fu Yan ignored the nagging and started walking toward the cliff.

“Daoist,” Ye Zhiyan called out. “I am the Second Miss of the Ye family. Could you give me some face and yield the room? If you move to a Mid-grade room, I will cover all your costs.”

Fu Yan looked back and said flatly, “No need.”

Ye Zhiyan was stunned. This was the first time someone in Chaoyang City hadn’t given her face. “You must be new. The High-grade rooms aren’t simple. Many Middle-stage cultivators can’t last half a day. Don’t make a fool of yourself and waste your hard-earned stones.”

Fu Yan smiled. “It’s fine. It’s only a few stones; I can afford to waste them.”

She blurred her figure and entered the vortex of entrance number three before the other woman could react. Ye Zhiyan stood there, gritting her teeth. “Fine. You better stay in there forever, or we’ll see who has the last laugh.” She turned and stormed off.

Once inside the vortex, Fu Yan felt the air pressure change. The room was about seven square meters—not large, but not cramped.

As she sat in the center, a sudden, bone-chilling cold swept through the room. She felt as if she were sitting atop a frozen mountain peak. This was the perfect environment for her Frost Tempering Sutra. She closed her eyes and began to circulate the technique.

Time passed in the darkness. Eventually, the cold vanished, replaced by a sudden, violent gale. The wind became so fierce it felt like physical blades—Wind Blades.

Fu Yan’s eyes lit up. “High-grade chambers truly are wondrous. This wind is perfect for practicing the Cloud-Clearing Palm.”

She pulled out the manual and began to move.