Chapter 28: First Encounter with Yan Chen

Supreme Phantom God Zero Degrees Above Freezing 2864 words 2026-04-13 18:03:03

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At the hour of the dog, the sun’s last rays had completely vanished, surrendering the world to night. Upon a small peak outside of Bluestone Town, the flickering light of a campfire cast dancing shadows across the ground.

Gathered around the flames, Ye Zihan and his two companions sat in a circle, roasting a small wild boar.

“Teacher, what are those talisman papers for?” Ye Zihan, now back in his red robes, skillfully drew his knife across the boar’s hide, letting the fat drip down before sprinkling on a mix of homemade spices. Soon, the air was filled with an intoxicating aroma.

“They’re for making shikigami talismans,” Hong Yan explained. “That blue-green talisman paper isn’t ordinary. Judging from its aura, it must be refined from Azurevine, making it a high-grade Night-tier talisman paper. The stall owner didn’t recognize its value and let you buy it for five taels of silver—perfect for making shikigami talismans.”

“But didn’t Master Lanyu already give me Red Silkworm talisman paper? Isn’t that higher grade than this Azure-patterned paper?” Ye Zihan asked, puzzled.

“You wasteful boy.” Hong Yan rapped Ye Zihan on the head, half exasperated. “Neither I nor your Master Lanyu are versed in shikigami arts. That Red Silkworm paper was a rare find, and there were only a dozen or so sheets. Yet you squandered almost all of them at once! Besides, using a mid-tier Moon-grade Red Silkworm talisman to seal fourth- or fifth-grade demons is such a waste of nature’s gifts—you’re not afraid of retribution?”

Ye Zihan stuck out his tongue, conceding the point. At his current level, he was only sealing low-grade demons—using Red Silkworm paper would indeed be extravagant. The Azure-patterned paper was much more suitable.

Lanyu tore off a leg from the boar and handed it to Ye Zihan. “There’s a good amount of Azure-patterned paper in that stack. If you cut it more finely, it should last you a good while for making shikigami talismans.”

“Alright,” Ye Zihan replied, accepting the leg with a nod.

The three ate slowly, savoring their meal. Ye Zihan wasted no time afterward, carefully trimming the Azure-patterned paper and imprinting it with the necessary sigils, refining it into shikigami talismans. Though they were in the human world, demons and monsters still roamed the land, and it was always wise to be prepared.

Once the talismans were finished, the trio planned to rest well and continue their journey at dawn.

But just then, a commotion rose from the foot of the mountain.

The peak was low, and the night was quiet; Ye Zihan could clearly hear the voices below, arguing and shouting words like “thief.”

“What’s going on?” Ye Zihan murmured, surprised.

“Shall we take a look?” Hong Yan asked with a smile.

Ye Zihan thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, better not get involved in trouble.”

Hong Yan only smiled again, saying nothing more. Ye Zihan’s cautious nature was well-suited for the times.

“They’re coming,” Lanyu suddenly said, just as Ye Zihan was about to rest against a tree.

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“Stop, you little thief! If I catch you, I’ll make you wish you were dead!”

The voices drew closer. Ye Zihan’s brows furrowed—these people were climbing the mountain?

Swish! Swish!

Moments later, two figures burst onto the clearing where Ye Zihan sat.

Ye Zihan gazed impassively at the unexpected guests. One was a young man in blue, about his own age, with sword-like brows, bright eyes, an elegant bearing, and striking good looks.

Facing him stood an old man in black robes, gaunt to the point of emaciation, his body nothing more than a bundle of sticks, as if a gentle push would topple him. Deep-set eyes stared out from a face stretched tight over bone, resembling nothing so much as a dried corpse—enough to turn one’s stomach.

The two halted, noticing Ye Zihan nearby. They looked surprised but said nothing.

“Hand over the Xiang Jade, you little thief! Or suffer the wrath of the Black Mountain Fiend!” the old man snarled, ignoring Ye Zihan.

The young man in blue fixed the old fiend with a cold gaze, his tone exasperated. “I’ll say it again: I didn’t take your lousy jade. Stop hounding me!”

“Nonsense! I was drinking on Black Mountain with no one around but you. Who else could have stolen it while I was tipsy?” the old man spat.

The young man inwardly cursed his luck. He’d merely been passing through Black Mountain when the old man lost his jade and immediately accused him of theft, chasing him for nearly a hundred miles. Though his footwork was mysterious, his spiritual energy was running low, and at last the Black Mountain Fiend had caught up.

“Believe what you like, but don’t push me too far—or you’ll regret it!” The young man’s patience snapped; he’d only wanted a rare outing, yet now he was being hunted and battered as a thief.

“A mere jade thief, and still so arrogant? If I don’t teach you a lesson, people will think the Black Mountain Fiend is all talk!” With a cold snort, the old man lunged, his withered hand reaching straight for the youth’s throat.

“Bring it on! Let’s see who’s afraid of whom!” The young man was stubborn to the core. Even knowing he was outmatched, he refused to yield. He sidestepped the old fiend’s grasp and swung a powerful kick at his opponent’s waist.

The old man sneered, dropped his weight, and hooked the young man’s leg with an arm as thin as a branch. Black spiritual energy surged around his right hand, coalescing into a blade along the edge, which he brought down toward the youth’s thigh.

Startled, the young man bent backward, planted his hands on the ground, and spun his body with sudden force, barely breaking free of the old man’s grip.

The Black Mountain Fiend gave a surprised grunt. Though the boy was slightly weaker, his reflexes were first-rate. He pressed the attack, and soon fists and feet were flying as the two clashed again.

Ye Zihan watched closely. The young man in blue was sixteen or seventeen, about his own age, but a stage higher in cultivation—already at the mid-level of the Three Talents realm.

As for the Black Mountain Fiend, though he looked ready to fall apart, the force of his blows stirred the air with a power that would put even a strongman to shame. His cultivation had reached the early Four Symbols realm!

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In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the youth in blue was faltering, barely holding off the old man’s relentless assault.

Ye Zihan licked his lips. Could he defeat an early Four Symbols opponent if he fought with all his strength? If he triumphed, combined with the momentum from his earlier battle with Liu Xiong, perhaps he could break through to the mid Three Talents realm in one leap!

With this thought, a quiet resolve formed in his heart, and his blood began to boil.

On the battlefield, the youth could no longer hold his own with just his fists and drew his weapon—a gleaming green sword. In his hands, the blade darted like a spirit snake, targeting the old man’s vital points and, for a moment, forcing the fiend’s fierce attack to a halt.

Unfazed, the Black Mountain Fiend bided his time. The youth, already depleted after a hundred-mile chase, would be exhausted soon—no more than half the time it took to burn an incense stick, and he’d be at his mercy.

Indeed, within that time, the blue-robed youth’s energy ebbed and his movements slowed. The fiend seized the opening, unleashing a flurry of bizarre strikes, forcing the youth into a desperate defense—beating him back without quite taking his life, toying with him instead.

“Plum Blossoms of the Ninth Heaven!”

Driven to anger at being so mocked, the youth unleashed a mid-tier Night-level sword art, his pride refusing to accept such humiliation. The technique exploded forth, forcing the old man back several yards. The young swordsman’s movements flowed like clouds and water, his blade weaving an intricate pattern. At each strike, the six-foot sword flashed with bursts of energy shaped like plum blossoms, its power formidable.

“A cornered beast!” the Black Mountain Fiend scoffed, having underestimated his foe. His sleeve was torn by a blossom-shaped burst, kindling his fury. With a swift motion, he summoned a black iron staff and unleashed his signature technique—“Cage of Ten Thousand Rods!”

A mid-tier Night-level art in the fiend’s hands, its power rivaled the “Plum Blossoms of the Ninth Heaven.”

The wind howled as the old man spun his staff, conjuring a maelstrom of shadows that fell like rain, encircling the youth on all sides and forming a dark prison of rods.

Clang! Clang!

The barrage descended in a dizzying blur. The young swordsman felt the crushing pressure, his star-bright brows furrowing. If this continued, he’d be overwhelmed in moments.

“It seems I have no choice but to use that technique.”