Chapter 87 Who Feels Unwell

Thank you to “pn,” “Junior Little Scatter,” “Little r...” for your rewards and encouragement!

As expected, not a single shadow could be seen; this inn was utterly empty. Yet when Lin Zhan spotted the note the innkeeper had left on the counter, he understood at once. Ha, this old fellow must have feared Lin Zhan would abscond, leaving him to shoulder the blame, so he simply fled first. That was just as well. If Wei were to arrive and a fight broke out, Lin Zhan wouldn't have to worry about harming any innocent bystanders.

After a night spent running about, it was time for some rest and recuperation. Lin Zhan could meditate to restore his energy without sleep, but Nightingale surely needed it. He wondered which form she would take to rest—would she remain the little girl or transform into the tiny violet-gold phoenix?

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Lin Zhan rolled up his sleeves to check his arm, and smiled when he saw the tiny bird slumbering, head tilted, with a drop of crystal-clear fluid hanging from her delicate beak. “Tsk, drooling on my hand!” Lin Zhan was at a loss.

The thought of having to care for this little creature in the future left him feeling uncertain. Still, considering this was Nightingale’s first time leaving home, with all her tears and laughter earlier, she must be exhausted, hence her deep sleep. Lin Zhan carefully slid her off his arm, cupping her gently in both hands, intending to place her on the bed. As he leaned over, supporting himself with one hand, Nightingale suddenly awoke in her phoenix form and instantly reverted to her human shape.

The transition was, to say the least, disastrous. In a flash, Nightingale found herself cradled in Lin Zhan’s arms.

The key was that upon waking and seeing her master, Young Lord Lin Zhan, Nightingale immediately felt at ease. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, shifted her limbs, and tried to nestle her head into Lin Zhan’s embrace, because it felt so comfortable. Since accompanying Lin Zhan, Nightingale’s shyness had faded, and she no longer felt awkward around him.

But for Lin Zhan, the situation was anything but comfortable!

Their bodies pressed together without a gap, and Nightingale’s restless movements triggered an instant physical response in Lin Zhan, his blood rushing, his body stiffening. The unique fragrance of the violet-gold phoenix bloodline wafted over him, even more intoxicating than the deadly allure of the fairy aunt in the Hero’s Pool cavern.

“Young Lord! Are you hiding a weapon on your leg? Move it away, or you’ll hurt Nightingale!” Having said this, Nightingale finally turned over and faced inward to sleep.

Lin Zhan extracted his—of course, his hand—and tumbled down from the bed in a flustered retreat. He stood by the window, letting the icy night wind cool his burning thoughts, murmuring to himself, “So close… so close…”

At last, he leapt out onto the inn’s rooftop, sat cross-legged, and began to meditate, focusing his breath and qi. Within his spiritual sea, the first page of the True Creation Sutra glowed brilliantly.

Everything that had happened today—helping Nightingale break the seal on her violet-gold phoenix blood, rescuing Golden Lion and Lian Fengying, forging a bond with the last phoenix bloodline—had unconsciously brought Lin Zhan a great surge of creation power. This force within him had grown stronger, the initial stage of the Creation Law, the awakening of creation, firmly consolidated.

The intermediate stage of the Creation Law was ‘Rising Winds and Flowing Waters.’

When the creation power reached its first threshold, this unique spiritual energy would form an endlessly cycling wheel within the body. Once it could operate independently, without Lin Zhan’s constant attention, the wheel would be accompanied by ‘Rising Winds and Flowing Waters.’

Lin Zhan silently recited these golden words, longing for ‘Rising Winds and Flowing Waters’ to manifest in his Nine-Star Space. Only then would the Nine-Star Space become a true domain.

He reached out, and the Peerless Pill Book appeared in his palm. Stroking the rough texture of the beast skin, Lin Zhan considered the usual ritual—should he drip blood onto it? He did so, and as the blood seeped in, immediate results followed.

“Blade of Tyranny, Mad Spear, Blood-Dripping Sword; Imperial Talisman, Emperor Array, Peerless Pill!”

Nightingale’s words echoed in his mind. Was this Peerless Pill Book truly the ultimate alchemical tome left behind by the Peerless Clan in the post-Primeval era?

The beast skin book suddenly transformed, becoming a stream of light that shot into Lin Zhan’s brow and entered his mind’s eye. A grand, ancient vision unfolded—a ruined wasteland, broken pillars as thick as several men’s embrace, shattered and scattered everywhere, the architecture in utter disrepair. On a barely legible stone tablet, Lin Zhan glimpsed the words “Peerless Pill Sect” and “Peerless Cauldron…”

The scene shifted again, returning to a fierce ancient battlefield. Shadows and combat blurred, but the bloody carnage was vivid—the severed limbs, flying heads, and the explosive energy waves from cultivators’ bodies bursting with power, all left Lin Zhan trembling in fear, cold sweat pouring down.

Fortunately, the vision changed again, this time to a delicate, verdant courtyard.

Within, a three- or four-year-old boy was pounding herbs in a tiny mortar, sweat streaming down his face. Behind him, a younger girl with a high ponytail toddled over, waving a handkerchief and calling, “Min Tian, little senior brother, you’ve let your sweat drip onto the Heaven-Earth Grass again! Let me wipe it for you, or master will spank you if he sees…”

It was a scene of innocent childhood joy.

The little boy tossed aside the mortar, grabbed the girl’s hand, and dashed toward the courtyard gate. “Yan Yan, let’s go catch fish in the stream…”

“Senior brother, Yan Yan’s scared! Master will scold us.”

“What’s there to fear? If master scolds you, I’ll take the blame!”

As the two children ran off, Lin Zhan’s perspective followed, glancing back at the grass-thatched courtyard gate, where a plaque read “Unworldly” in three flowing characters.

Staring at those characters, Lin Zhan’s consciousness felt struck by lightning, murmuring, “Peerless, Peerless—it means ‘Unworldly,’ not ‘Unparalleled’…”

The vision reversed, as if time spun backward; Lin Zhan saw a white-robed youth standing atop the ruins, hands clasped behind his back, his figure solitary, his furrowed brows still faintly reminiscent of the little boy from the cottage.

“Yan Yan, wait for me… But if remaining unworldly means losing everything, what is the point of holding on?”

The youth raised one hand, tore open a spatial rift, and stepped through…

In the wind, his lingering voice echoed, “Ha ha ha! From today onward, I, Min Tian, will enter the world through alchemy. Peerless Pill God—I shall be the one!”

His laughter was thick with tragic heroism.

Lin Zhan awoke from the vision, a cold drop at the corner of his eye—a hot tear.

“Min Tian… Yan Yan… Unworldly… Peerless Pill God…”

As he lingered in this lingering mood, the Peerless Pill Book suspended above his spiritual sea dissolved into countless starlit fragments, sinking into his consciousness. Records of pills, myriad formulas, and alchemical techniques surged like wind and clouds, all transforming into Lin Zhan’s knowledge.