Chapter Nine: Precision or Lack Thereof

A strand of Canghua is about one fifteenth the thickness of a human hair. As a cultivated Fate Cluster, it is not an insensible strand, but a Daoist organ more dexterous than fingers, more sensitive than skin. Razor-sharp, resilient, mutable at will, it can channel spiritual energy, pierce and traverse with precision, and staunch bleeding with stability.

Canghua is also the finest surgical instrument.

When countless strands of Canghua simultaneously penetrate the human body, the scene is fraught with peril. A single misstep, and Huo Yuanjia could be sliced instantly into thousands of fragments by the sharp white strands, or else burned to cinders by uncontrolled spiritual energy. This is a supreme test for the operator. Precision is the only difference between slaughter and surgery.

Even Lan Yi, now, cannot help but proceed with utmost seriousness, lest he inadvertently kill a benefactor from his past. He is not the sort to repay kindness with devastation or vengeance with restraint.

Moreover, Huo Yuanjia serves as the martial icon of Artificial Divinity Realm 1909; the success of this empowerment will greatly affect Lan Yi’s subsequent plans.

Used to boldly reshaping an artificial divinity realm to his own ends, Lan Yi never intended to proceed timidly, hands tied. This is the style of most future cultivators of spiritual power: especially as cultivators from River Civilization and Ocean Civilization engage in fierce competition and team battles, thousands of artificial divinity realms will be forcibly transformed to new civilizations. That will truly test the resilience and willpower of the two great schools.

Following nerves and blood vessels, Canghua entered Huo Yuanjia’s body. Data—body temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, lung function, innate energy compatibility, five senses feedback speed, existence of Fate Cluster—all streamed swiftly into Lan Yi’s mind.

Huo Yuanjia’s body was exceptionally robust. Even ingesting arsenic would not kill him quickly. Old wounds and hidden ailments from excessive training and fighting did not escape Lan Yi’s examination. Combining this with martial arts techniques in his memory, he soon devised a reliable plan to elevate Huo Yuanjia to mastery in qi cultivation. An introductory method called "Zhu Yan Treads the Mountains" was sent vibrating into Huo Yuanjia’s ear through Canghua.

"Zhu Yan, whose sight brings blades to the world."

"It suits what I am about to do."

"Since I am now an Immortal Master, I shall make full use of this identity."

Lan Yi proceeded methodically, as if assembling a model; the silver-white Canghua gleamed ever brighter in the hall, drawing gasps from the crowd. Spiritual energy was being rapidly infused.

Canghua avoided pain nerves as much as possible, destroying old tissue while filling it with innate energy at the level of qi mastery. Even with Lan Yi’s careful control, Huo Yuanjia could not suppress painful groans as the white strands’ brightness became blinding. Even Nong Jinxi and Chen Qimei, who watched with ignorant awe, sensed that the martial empowerment had reached a critical moment—nervousness was inevitable.

Expel the invaders, revive China, make all nations bow before us! All corners pay tribute! Everything lost in humiliation by the Empire of Shenzhou might truly be reclaimed in their hands. To leave one’s name in history would be a founding emperor’s honor! What Starhan native could refuse such ancient glory?

As for the foreign journalists, they too were anxious. This was a transformation more unbelievable than the Industrial Revolution. The world might soon have a new road of competition besides technology, and they were witnessing this historic moment.

"Jinxi, I am frightened of Immortal Master Lan Yi," Chen Qimei suddenly said from the crowd.

"Why do you say so?" Nong Jinxi withdrew his gaze, puzzled.

Chen Qimei did not answer, but handed a roll of paper to Nong Jinxi. It contained intelligence from his contacts in the Two Rivers Governor’s Office and assorted figures—fantastical information, so outlandish that if Lan Yi were not present, Chen Qimei would have dismissed it as hysterical nonsense.

The report was more absurd than the Emperor Guangwu’s meteor summoning.

An immortal wielding thunder had sunk dozens of foreign ironclads on the Yangtze, leaving no survivors.

"This... is it true?" Nong Jinxi’s glasses nearly toppled from his nose.

"It should be true. Jingxiong and Huanqing have already departed for Pu Hai, and De Zun is preparing to end his activities in Dongyang early—they all wish to meet the Immortal Master in person, present their cases, and beg for his support..."

Here, Chen Qimei felt the absurdity, and could only laugh dryly.

"...They underestimate the Immortal Master’s power and ambition. If future martial artists all possess the ability to sink ironclads—not even that, just resist foreign firearms—then the foreigners’ good days are numbered."

"The Immortal Master intends to wipe out the foreigners," Nong Jinxi cut to the heart.

If that menopausal old witch had the courage to declare war,

then soon they would have the capital to do so.

"Not good. If this is true, the court and foreigners will soon come for him," Nong Jinxi frowned. He was not worried about Lan Yi being arrested and shot, but feared Lan Yi would unleash a massacre.

When immortals battle, mortals suffer. The power of naval guns, if deployed in the city, would be catastrophic. If the Immortal Master, capable of sinking ironclads, were provoked and slaughtered indiscriminately in the city, innocent lives would be lost. Too many deaths would leave them unable to clean up afterward.

"Jinxi, you worry too much. The Two Rivers Governor is likely overwhelmed already. As for the foreigners..." Chen Qimei sneered. "...The court fears alarming friendly nations, but our backbone is intact, and we do not fear. I wish the foreigners would come, so we could deal with them alongside the Immortal Master!"

Mentioning the foreigners, both Chen Qimei and Nong Jinxi’s eyes grew bloodshot.

Concessions, indemnities, national humiliation—those aside, when the foreigners sent troops, their atrocities—rape, plunder, slaughter, arson—were so horrific that any Starhan native with a shred of blood would be furious, hair bristling with rage, longing to devour their flesh, drink their blood, and sleep on their skins!

Without power, one could only swallow the humiliation.

Watching Huo Yuanjia’s painful groans turn into strong, rhythmic breaths, heart pounding like a bell, Chen Qimei felt they would soon no longer need to endure in silence.

"Roar!"

Canghua’s electric light flashed blindingly, and Huo Yuanjia’s roar, beast-like, erupted in the broad lecture hall, sending visible waves of force through the air!

Just as Chen Qimei had anticipated.

Pu Hai, former residence of the Han Prince, Two Rivers Governor’s Office.

At this moment, Governor Zhang Ji was utterly overwhelmed. He had been in office less than a month, and suddenly the sky was torn open and the foreigners were close to madness. This practical, capable, dignified elder, worthy of the title of gentleman, was sweating profusely, uncertain what to do.