Staying Alive Cautiously in the Celestial Realm and Becoming the Strongest

Chapter 887: Chapter 887: Ling Zhiyuan

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[Name: Wang Chen (Ling Zhiyuan)]

[Age: 15]

[Cultivation Level: Martial Apprentice]

[Cultivation Technique: Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel (Corpse Dog): 45/100]

[Potential: 82]

Wang Chen’s descent into the Cangqing Domain this time was something entirely different from the last occasion he entered the Mist Mountain Realm.

Although it was also a soul transmigration, he awoke his True Soul right away and quickly received all the memories of the original body.

Setting aside the current crisis he was facing, at least he saved a considerable amount of time and avoided the risks that come with a state of muddled consciousness.

And the external cheat interface had accompanied him as before, still the super simplified version.

Ling Zhiyuan, though he didn’t like martial training, had learned the Ling Family’s true secret technique — Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel.

Taoist belief holds that people have seven souls, each with its own name: the first soul Corpse Dog, the second Obscure Tortoise, the third Sparrow Shadow, the fourth Swallowing Thief, the fifth Non-Poison, the sixth Chu Hui, the seventh Chou Fei!

The seven fiends within the Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel correspond to these seven souls!

Ling Zhiyuan possessed high martial arts talent; despite his usual aversion to training and tendency to be lazy, he had still entered the first soul, condensing the Corpse Dog Wheel of the Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel.

As a closely guarded secret of the Ling Family, the technique’s rank was extremely high, one soul one wheel, seven souls seven wheels, it could be cultivated up to the highest seventh-order Martial Saint level.

However, the cultivation techniques stored by the Ling Family only included the first five wheels, the remaining two were said to have been lost long ago.

But reaching the fifth wheel and stepping into the Martial Ancestor realm was enough to dominate a region!

Therefore, Wang Chen really couldn’t complain about having a poor start; the starting point of this body was extremely high — he was essentially born in Rome!

Wang Chen didn’t overlook the last “Potential” field on the panel, and the number inside was a remarkably high 82 points.

And at the end of the cultivation technique field, the “+” sign clearly showed up.

He tried adding 1 point to it.

[Potential-1]

[Cultivation Technique: Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel (Corpse Dog): 46/100]

Indeed, the potential points could be used to increase the experience value of the cultivation technique, and because the number was very high, Wang Chen could now, if he wished, level up the Mysterious Heaven Seven Fiend Wheel to the second soul, condensing the Obscure Tortoise Wheel!

And become a Second Order Samurai.

But Wang Chen would absolutely not be that reckless; adding points felt great, but adding so many at once could cause serious problems.

He suppressed the tinge of impulse in his heart and began planning his next move.

First, Wang Chen found two packs of antiseptic medicine and a bag of Marching Pills on Dai Peng’s corpse, along with some Broken Silver and Copper Coins.

Marching Pills were not Pills, but a type of ration made of lean meat and supplements. Originally it was the go-to rations for military soldiers, and later, numerous martial artists used it as food to stave off hunger and replenish Qi-Blood.

The nutritional content of Marching Pills was very high, a pill the size of an infant fist was basically enough to fill the stomach, and this item could be preserved for a long time, which is why many people carried a bag with them when traveling.

There were only two Marching Pills left in Dai Peng’s bag, and Wang Chen, who was already ravenously hungry, did not mind their dryness and simply tore and chewed them down.

After finishing one Marching Pill, his stomach felt warmly full.

His strength had also recovered somewhat.

And that was all Wang Chen could find on Dai Peng, as his weapon had been lost during their escape.

Just when Wang Chen was about to bury the corpse, a sudden inspiration struck him.

Wang Chen reached out and pulled the short blade from Dai Peng’s back.

A flash of silvery light instantly caught his eye!

The short blade was only seven inches long, its edge thin as a cicada’s wing and incredibly sharp; that’s why Dai Peng, even after being wounded, managed to bring Ling Zhiyuan to safety.

Wang Chen held the blade in his palm and casually waved it.

It was a good knife.

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He suddenly discovered that at the junction where the blade met the hilt, two characters the size of grains of rice were engraved.

“Break Soul.”

The language and script of the Cangqing Domain were different from that of the Haotian Realm, but Wang Chen had acquired Ling Zhiyuan’s body and all his memories, so naturally, there were no obstacles in this regard.

“The Blade of Break Soul”—not a bad name!

Wang Chen carefully tucked it away.

Next, he found a rock in the cave and built a tomb for Dai Peng.

Given the limited conditions and time, this was all Wang Chen could manage.

In the end, he extinguished the campfire and, taking a burning piece of wood in hand, left the cave.

The cave wasn’t deep, after walking a hundred or so steps, he saw the faint light of the exit.

Wang Chen quickly left the cave.

The place was extremely concealed, surrounded by towering mountains and lush virgin forests.

Wang Chen moved several large stones from the vicinity to tightly seal the cave entrance and then covered it with some vines and leaves.

His intuition told him it was unwise to stay long here, so he chose a direction and set out.

Here the mountains were tall and the forest dense, with no ready-made paths to follow. Wang Chen had to push his way through thickets and brambles, unable to increase his speed as he wished.

While on the move, he kept an eye on various plants growing around him, occasionally plucking some grass, fruits, or flower buds to smell.

Fortune favors the bold, and in the dense forest, Wang Chen found a kind of grass fruit that resembled Sichuan peppercorns.

When these bluish-green fruits were crushed, they released a very pungent and stimulating odor.

So Wang Chen searched carefully nearby and filled a bag with them using his outer garment.

Then he crushed handfuls of the fruit, scattering the broken bits everywhere, and smeared the juice on tree trunks.

Finally, including his outer garment, Wang Chen tore it into pieces and scattered them.

His actions were to prevent the enemy from tracking him. It might be a wasted effort, but as the saying goes: better safe than sorry.

The Ling Family kept a group of hunting dogs. Ling Zhiyuan had taken them hunting before and knew how keen their sense of smell was!

His strength was too weak at the moment—not to mention finding the truth and avenging Ling Hongyun and Dai Peng—he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety.

And not long after Wang Chen left the cave, about two hours later, a troop of people hurriedly appeared in the mountains nearby.

Leading the group were two martial artists, each leading a hunting dog.

The two long-tailed sleek dogs sniffed around on the ground and suddenly barked madly toward the cave entrance!

“Over here!”

The martial artists holding the dogs immediately perked up and let go of the leashes.

The two hunting dogs sprinted to the cave entrance like arrows off their strings and barked loudly again.

Soon, the vines hiding the entrance were pulled aside, and the rocks blocking it were moved, revealing a cavity. Over a dozen martial artists entered one after another with sharp blades in hand, their movements swift and their coordination silent, obviously an elite force.

Before long, Dai Peng’s corpse was dragged out.

“The little bastard isn’t here!”

A martial artist reported to a grim-faced middle-aged man: “He must’ve run away not long ago, the charcoal fire inside is still hot.”

The middle-aged man’s face darkened, and he gestured with a hand: “Pursue!”

Thus, the group set off in haste again, led deeper into the mountains by the two hunting dogs.

However, after chasing for a few miles, the two dogs began sneezing frequently and started circling in place, tears streaming from their eyes.

The pursuers too caught the pungent smell and looked at each other, perplexed.

The middle-aged man who was obviously the leader slapped his hand against a large tree nearby, cursing bitterly, “Little bastard!”

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