The flames burned a deep crimson, flecked with golden sparks. Their heat could boil seas, their glow rivaled the sun. The peach grove blazed with light, the temperature soaring as if the season—and the very landscape—had shifted. The Yang Earth Fire had successfully devoured the Pure Yang Flame, and its unleashed power left even Han slightly awestruck, radiating wild, explosive energy.


    Lu Qingmo observed calmly. “Two yin-aligned flames, two yang-aligned flames—your Yin-Yang Earth Fire Seal is now balanced. That’s the ideal state for cultivating the Primordial Chaos Fire down the line.”


    Balance between yin and yang—the universal principle.


    Han eyed the Yang Earth Fire. “I’ll definitely toss more exotic flames into the mix later, but I’ll keep the yin-yang balance in check.”


    Then he hesitated. “One thing, Aunt Mo—I’m feeling… hot. Uncomfortable, somehow.” His face flushed, a strange glint flickering in his eyes. Looking at Lu Qingmo, a rush of wild, fleeting thoughts surged through him.


    She studied him, a peculiar look crossing her face. “It’s the yang fire you just absorbed. Plus, you’re a guy—your yang energy’s overloaded now, stoking your inner fire. I’ve never dealt with this myself.”


    “…”


    Han got the gist. In short, he was feeling frisky.


    “Aunt Mo, what do I do about it?” he asked, half-pleading. “Can you help me out here?” First time for everything—gotta count on you, Aunt Mo!


    She frowned inwardly. Help you with your excess yang energy? That sounds… off. Still, she offered a fix. “Use the Yin Earth Fire to balance it out.”


    Han followed her advice, and sure enough, the heat ebbed, settling into calm. Then he moved to the next step.


    “Let’s see how this yang flame tempers the soul,” he muttered, drawing the crimson-gold fire into his spirit. It flared up, scorching every inch of his soul with relentless intensity.


    In Taoist cultivation, the journey shifts from yin to yang—starting with the soul, then the Yin God. At the Day Roaming stage, a spark of yang essence ignites within the extreme yin of the soul, laying the groundwork for future growth. The entire Day Roaming process revolves around nurturing that yang spark, expanding and strengthening it.


    Long ago, a sage stumbled upon a flame that proved invaluable for soul Cultivation post-Day Roaming. Tempering the soul with it didn’t just convert heaps of yin energy into ultra-pure yang—it refined and purified that yang spark too. The result? A cultivator’s yang essence outstripped others in both quantity and quality.


    That flame was the Pure Yang Flame—a fire of “pure yang,” its signature trait. Lu Qingmo had said it best: one round of its tempering could catapult even a mediocre cultivator to new heights. It bolstered the very foundation of one’s cultivation. No wonder it was hailed as a top-tier Day Roaming opportunity—and martial Bone Refiners could use it too, reaping equal benefits for their physiques.


    Xuandu Temple’s Pure Yang Flame, cultivated to a legendary level, was world-famous. Even cultivators from Eastern Zhou and Southern Jin trekked thousands of miles for a shot at its tempering. But even top factions, offering rare treasures, weren’t guaranteed a chance—it was borderline aiding rivals, and the flame was too scarce even within Xuandu Temple to share freely.


    Lu Qingmo watched Han temper his soul, subtle changes unfolding. Under the Pure Yang Flame’s heat, his ethereal, hollow soul began to take on a flesh-like solidity, shedding its ghostly vagueness. She wasn’t surprised—once a Xuandu Temple prodigy, she’d undergone the same, with even better results. Their flames weren’t in the same league; Xuandu’s had birthed a fire spirit. Still, she wasn’t worried—Han’s version, swallowed by the Yang Earth Fire, was fully under his control. No risk of it turning on him.


    The yang fire blazed endlessly, as if it’d never burn out. But the tempering had its limit. An hour later, the flames faded, revealing Han’s soul. Exposed areas—untouched by robes—lacked any yin spirit chill, exuding a warm, lifelike glow.


    Han opened his eyes, a yin and yang flame dancing in each. Feeling his soul power surge past a bottleneck, brimming with vibrant, pure yang energy, he grinned. “Day Roaming Mid-Stage—yang energy coursing through.”


    One tempering session, and he’d broken through. Soul cultivation got tougher starting at Day Roaming—turning yin into yang and harnessing the world’s yang force was no cakewalk. Look at sects like Earth Corpse or clans like the Huangs—their Day Roaming elders, in their thirties or forties, still hadn’t peaked. Cultivators couldn’t breeze through like in the first three soul stages, outpacing martial artists with ease.


    “If I’d had this level facing that black-robed guy, I wouldn’t have been laid up for days,” Han mused, nodding at his now-tangible soul. Soul solidification was a Manifest Saint hallmark, and this tempering had nudged him closer—easing the bottleneck to forming a true soul, a step simpler than for others. With more breakthroughs, that flesh-like quality would only deepen.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Pure yang energy, refined yang essence, a solid soul frame… (Not the same “yang energy” as his earlier hormonal spike, mind you.)


    “The Pure Yang Flame really lives up to its ‘heavenly oddity’ rep,” Han marveled.


    “Naturally,” Lu Qingmo replied. “It’s not the best for fighting compared to some exotic flames, but for boosting cultivation? Nothing else comes close.”


    Han nodded. I get it—kinda like the Fallen Heart Flame. Shame he hadn’t been seduced by a “heart flame” earlier—missed his shot at a glorious “mistake.”


    “Aunt Mo, I’ve felt its boost for cultivators—worthy of its Day Roaming fame,” he said, curious. “But what’s it do for a martial artist’s body? Just pump up their yang energy? That doesn’t sound as impressive as what it does for cultivators.”


    She’d claimed its benefits for Bone Refiners matched those for Day Roamers—surely more than just a yang boost.


    “Of course it’s more,” she explained. “At Bone Refining, martial artists don’t just train their bodies and true essence—there’s something else they need to focus on.”


    “What’s that?”


    “Vitality,” she said. “In earlier stages, vitality’s just a byproduct—grows passively as the body strengthens. But at Bone Refining, you need specific techniques to refine it actively. Day after day, hammering your vitality into shape—forging it like divine metal. Do it right, and you might even birth unique powers within it, fighting with vitality alone.”


    Her tone turned stern. “Post-Bone Refining, don’t slack on vitality training. Strong vitality means strong power—and it’s key to reaching True Blood Realm, plus how strong you’ll be after. For Bone Refiners, tempering with Pure Yang Flame doesn’t just harden the body—it transforms vitality into pure yang vitality. Potent, brimming with potential—its boost for martial artists is every bit as good as for cultivators.”


    Han nodded thoughtfully. “Vitality power, True Blood ascent—didn’t know there was a trick to it.”


    “Plenty of rogue martial artists stumble into Bone Refining with no lineage,” Lu Qingmo added. “They don’t know vitality’s secrets, never refine it—born weaker and stuck below True Blood forever. But don’t worry about the techniques. Secret Martial Arts should include them—Bai Tian will pass them on tomorrow. Unless his version’s incomplete.”


    “Master never mentioned this stuff,” Han said. “Guess I’ll ask Senior Sister tomorrow.” Hope Master’s got the matching vitality techniques, or we’re in for a hassle.


    Yang Flame refined, Earth Fire leveled up. Soul transformed, realm breached. Han was in high spirits—overnight, his strength had soared.


    Come morning, he hit the martial hall and asked Bai Ruoyue about vitality techniques first thing.


    “Should be covered,” she said, uncertain. “Dad mentioned vitality tempering once—told me to focus on training, said he’d prep what I need when I hit Bone Refining.”


    Sounds like a yes, Han figured. Bai Tian wouldn’t skimp on his daughter.


    Mid-chat, his gaze drifted to her lips.


    “Little Junior Brother, what’re you staring at?!” She glared, then bolted off with a huff. Shameless!


    “…” You were all in last night—wiped me out and now you’re playing coy?


    At noon, Han got a surprise snail message from Lu Qingmo, calling him to the Ghost God Division. “Remember the Huang Family’s interests getting carved up by county factions after their big loss?”


    “Yeah, what’s up?” Han asked, puzzled. Why bring that up now?


    “In Wangfeng County, the Huangs control a spirit mountain—one of their key herb sources, pretty vital to them,” she explained. “The Yuan Family, Rainfall Martial Hall, and Wind Chime Taoist Temple have their eyes on it—want to snatch it outright or at least grab a slice. During their tussle, something unexpected popped up: a cavern.”


    “A cavern?” Han blinked. That was a curveball.


    “Yeah. The four groups poked around inside. It’s a sprawling underground maze, decently big. Not your average hole—they found treasures down there, figured it’s hiding more secrets. Word got out, and other county factions got antsy, rushing to Wangfeng. But they’re stuck at the entrance—there’s a mist blocking deeper access.”


    “How’d the news spread?” Han wondered.


    “Rainfall Martial Hall and Wind Chime Temple leaked it,” she said.


    Han caught on. Unlike clans, martial halls and temples had disciples with layered identities—plenty might double as small-family scions. Too many people, too messy to keep quiet.


    “So, Aunt Mo, you want me to head to Wangfeng?”


    “Up to you,” she shrugged. “After the cavern surfaced, the County Ghost God and Martial Stabilization Divisions sent teams too. Everyone’s piling in, finding bits and pieces around the outskirts. Turns out, it might tie to the ancient Destiny Sect. Elder Ye reached out, asking if I knew anything. Since you scored big in the Heavenly Ruins—and this cavern’s linked to Destiny—I figured you should know.”


    “Destiny Sect?” Han’s interest spiked. Memories of his Heavenly Ruins trip and the Ascendant Hall flashed vivid—he was hooked on that mysterious, vanished top sect.


    “Am I too late now?”


    “Nope,” she assured him. “That mist’s still holding strong—no one’s gotten deeper. Tomorrow’s fine. The area’s locked down by county forces. If you go, you can roll in as a Ghost God Patrol—falls under your jurisdiction. Honestly, not much in Great Qi’s off-limits to a patrol.”


    “Then I’ll join the party,” Han decided, thinking of Bai Ruoyue. “Can I bring Senior Sister along?”


    Last time against a Manifest Saint wasn’t her fault—pure mismatch. Normally, her strength crushed it. With her tagging along, she’d be his Bone Refining bodyguard. Future memoir material: ‘The Grass-Tamer’s Elite Guard,’ starring us.


    “Sure,” Lu Qingmo agreed. “Have Ruoyue rep Black Cloud’s Ghost God Division. But Destiny Sect stuff showing up in Tianyue County? Legends say all of Tianzhou was their turf back in the day. Tianyue’s next to the Heavenly Ruins—leftovers make sense. I’ve read Xuandu Temple records—Destiny Sect relics have popped up across Tianzhou before. Their old sect grounds were something else. Early dynasties even considered making Tianzhou the capital, but it never panned out.”


    She briefed him on Wangfeng’s situation, doling out careful advice. After the black-robed ambush, she was oddly at ease with him heading out. With the Imprinting Mirror, dragon scale, and his fresh breakthrough, he could handle a Manifest Saint—maybe even turn the tables. Paired with Bai Ruoyue, they’d cover each other perfectly—her guarding his body while his soul fought free of worry.


    Unless they ran into someone like Lu Qingmo—or worse, beyond Manifest Saint. Then it’d be pure fate screwing them, and even she couldn’t save the day. Doomed, plain and simple.


    Leaving her, Han filled Bai Ruoyue in, telling her to gear up for tomorrow’s adventure.


    Her response? Two words: “Hell yeah.”


    No rush—Lu Qingmo said there was time. Han popped a Black Tortoise Spirit Pill, savoring Turtle Chancellor’s handiwork.