NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 13: The Method of Hundred Refined Spiritual Weapons! The Mask of Pain
Chapter 13: The Method of Hundred Refined Spiritual Weapons! The Mask of Pain
"This spiritual power..."
Mo Qingyue's eyes flashed like lightning, staring intently at the room next door.
Just moments ago, she distinctly felt a surge of spiritual power emanate from Chen Zhixing's room. Though not vast compared to her own formidable mental strength, it was exceptionally pure and intense.
When she attempted to probe further, the spiritual power had already retracted, vanishing without a trace.
"Who is it?!"
Mo Qingyue's eyes flickered with suspicion.
She vividly remembered that after the evening banquet with the Chen family, Chen Tianliang and his wife had gone down the mountain to buy osmanthus cakes for their child, Chen Zhixing. This meant that Chen Zhixing was the only one in the adjacent room now.
"Could it be..."
Images of Chen Zhixing's innocent, angelic face surfaced in her mind, causing her pupils to contract slightly. A bold hypothesis began to form in her thoughts.
The next moment, to confirm her suspicion, Mo Qingyue gently placed her palm on the floor. A surge of unseen mental energy flowed from her palm towards Chen Zhixing's room.
*Sizzle.*
It was as if it hit an invisible wall, rebounding back.
"The rooms in the Ziwei Chen family are protected by prohibitions."
Mo Qingyue retracted her hand, her beautiful face displaying a mix of complex emotions. After a moment, she took a deep breath, her expression softening into a slight smile.
"Chen Zhixing is quite interesting."
She cast a glance at the neighboring room before closing her eyes again to resume her cultivation. She had an inkling that the child named Chen Zhixing might not be as simple as he seemed. But she was in no hurry. She believed that with careful observation, the child would eventually reveal some clues.
Meanwhile, Chen Zhixing, wholly absorbed in refining his mental power, remained unaware of the changes in the next room.
Ding ding ding!
Ding ding ding!
In front of him, a mass of spiritual energy was being continuously hammered into the shape of a flying sword. Each hammer strike felt like a mallet pounding his head, causing intense pain.
Yet despite the pain, he could clearly sense that with each refining strike, his mental energy grew more pure and robust, silently enhancing his power.
Boom!
Suddenly, with a muffled sound, the embryonic flying sword disintegrated into countless fragments of spiritual energy.
Chen Zhixing winced, sucking in a sharp breath, his head spinning and vision blurring. It took a while for the intense discomfort to subside.
"Failed again?"
This wasn't Chen Zhixing's first failure. He had previously attempted to shape his spiritual energy into a giant hammer, but it shattered before even forming a complete shape. Subsequent attempts to mold it into a spear, staff, or axe met with the same fate.
He deduced the likely reason for his failures: his spiritual energy was insufficient to support the formation of such large spiritual weapons.
"Again!"
Gritting his teeth, Chen Zhixing envisioned a throwing dart in his mind. The dispersed spiritual energy regrouped, gradually being hammered into a palm-sized, six-pointed dart.
Ding ding ding!
Ding ding ding!!
The spiritual energy grew increasingly solid, forming the dart's embryonic shape.
"Is it successful?"
Just as Chen Zhixing's face lit up with joy, believing he had succeeded, the dart abruptly shattered.
The familiar excruciating pain hit once more!
"Hiss~~~!"
Chen Zhixing winced, his vision swimming, facial features contorted.
After a while.
"I won't give up. Again!"
Boom!
"Hiss~! Again!!!"
Boom!!
"Again—"
Boom!!
"Ahhh! Damn it—"
Boom!
"I—"
Boom!
"—"
Boom!!!
An hour later, a trembling Chen Zhixing, exhausted and tormented, looked up. There, suspended in mid-air, was a needle as thin as a hair, finally successfully refined.
"Hahaha, I did it! Finally, I did it!!"
With bloodshot eyes, Chen Zhixing laughed out loud.
"Come!"
He gestured, and the needle rotated swiftly, flying toward him, stopping a mere centimeter from his nose.
Chen Zhixing's eyes gleamed as he turned his attention to a buzzing fly in the room.
"Go."
He uttered a word, and the needle shot forward.
The fly, caught in the needle's path, quivered briefly before falling dead to the ground.
"Not bad."
Chen Zhixing felt an itch to test his creation on something more formidable. This spiritual needle, forged through such pain, needed a proper trial to satisfy him.
After a moment of consideration, he shook his head.
"Never mind, my parents should be back soon. There will be plenty of opportunities to test it later."
With that thought, Chen Zhixing motioned, and the needle flew back, merging into his brow, suspended within his sea of consciousness.
A while later, footsteps sounded outside.
Chen Zhixing's eyes flickered. He adopted a naive, innocent expression and lay back down to sleep.
Creak.
The door opened.
Chen Tianliang and Ying Shuangshuang entered, carrying a box of osmanthus cakes.
"This child wanted osmanthus cakes, but fell asleep first."
Ying Shuangshuang set down the cakes, gently covering Chen Zhixing with a blanket.
The night passed uneventfully.
The next day, around noon, Chen Zhixing, his parents, Ying Shuangshuang, and Feilong Zhenren were having lunch in the courtyard.
At the True Self realm, they had long transcended the need for food, yet most cultivators enjoyed it unless in special circumstances.
"Old Jia, I think young Yue'er could start cultivating..."
As they chatted casually,
"Third Master!"
The outer disciple guarding the mountain gate hurried in.
"What's the matter?"
Chen Tianliang asked.
The disciple bowed slightly and respectfully reported,
"Third Master, two men are outside the gate. One is called Kuimu Zhenren, the other Zhuang Wuxian. They claim to be your old friends and seek an audience. Should I...?"
"Oh?"
Chen Tianliang's eyebrows raised in surprise and delight.
"Hahaha, Kuimu and Zhuang Wuxian are here? They must be here because the South Sea Secret Realm has opened. Please, invite them in!"
...
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