Chapter Forty-Seven: Breakthrough! Pure Yang of the Lifefire!

Wang Cheng followed closely behind the proud snapper, who swaggered deeper into the sea, into a region untouched by the Shadowless Wall’s light. As expected, he discovered a meticulously tended field of seaweed. No fewer than four or five monkey-brain sea urchins were sprawled across the thick leaves, feasting greedily; even through the water, the incessant crunching could be heard.

The sea delicacies of the Ten-Thousand Seas were formidable, their appetites equally so—each was clearly a glutton. Sea urchins favored shadow over light; perhaps the shipwreck’s brightness had startled them, so after fleeing, most had relocated here, ravaging this snapper’s vegetable patch.

Wang Cheng also spotted their unique trails across the seabed. Surveying his surroundings and using the Four-Seas Treasure to sense the currents, he determined these “seaweed buffets” sustained many of the prized sea creatures, and many more victims than just this one fish. If he searched the area thoroughly, there was a good chance of finding other seaweed fields and groups of monkey-brain sea urchins—even enough for sustainable harvesting.

“At first, I thought I’d just found a golden egg, but it turns out there’s a whole golden hen hidden here! Now, this is true fortune.”

The underwater world was far more complex than the surface; the art of sensing was hindered by the coral, clams, turtles, and other rare sea fish, each with their own aura, preventing him from focusing solely on the sea urchins. But now, with the snapper as his guide, nothing was a problem.

Smack!

Just as Wang Cheng was lost in thought, the snapper flicked its tail against his back and pointed a fin toward the nearest sea urchin, as if urging him to get to work.

Though Wang Cheng felt an odd kinship with those Kunlun slaves whipped into picking cotton, he decided to overlook the fish’s attitude in gratitude for its guidance. With his iron hook and golden net, he scooped up the large sea urchin indicated by the snapper. Practice made perfect; soon he had collected the three biggest from the seaweed patch. The remaining two were still small, so he planned to let them grow for a couple more days in the snapper’s field before harvesting.

Including the two he’d caught earlier, he now had five altogether. Wang Cheng could already feel the vigorous struggle of the monkey-brain sea urchins in his net, knowing this was his current limit. Best to convert these treasures into strength before gathering more.

He gave the snapper a thumbs-up in praise:

“You, noble fish, are truly magnificent! Once I clear your patch, if any of your relatives need help, come find me. I’ll take care of your pest problem.”

Concerned the simple-minded fish wouldn’t understand, he glanced at the two smaller sea urchins, steeling himself against the pain of loss, and cracked one open with his iron hook, revealing the tender, golden roe inside.

The snapper, having waged a long battle with its troublesome neighbors, recognized the delicacy; it knew these sea urchins were far tastier than the seaweed it grew, though it had never gotten to sample them until now. It lunged at the treat like a starving dog, gulping down all five pieces of roe.

Youth has no price, and the neighbor melts in the mouth.

Delicious!

Wang Cheng silently applauded himself. The habit of “sharing the spoils” proved invaluable, whether with intelligent human subordinates or silly guides like this snapper.

With the fresh sea urchin as bait, he wasn’t worried about the fish slacking off. He then returned to the surface with his spoils.

He failed to notice that, behind him, after consuming the monkey-brain sea urchin, the snapper’s eyes began to shine, its animal ignorance fading, replaced by a clear intelligence. The snapper—or rather, the newly awakened “snapper spirit”—could hardly contain its joy. It swam a circle, pointed at Wang Cheng’s retreating figure, and released a stream of bubbles:

“On behalf of all diligent, hardworking farmers of the seabed, I declare: this four-legged creature is... a beneficial insect!”

Splash!

Wang Cheng climbed aboard. The sharkskin water cloak dried itself instantly, and Zhang Wen hurried over to dry his hair and wrap him in a warm bearskin coat.

He saw that Han Shushu had finished clearing some corpses and had returned to rest, wrapped in furs by the fire. He suggested:

“Junior Sister Han, we have plenty of time. The sea is freezing in the twelfth month—better to be safe and continue tomorrow?”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead, Senior Brother Wang.”

Han Shushu agreed readily, then blew her bone flute once more. The giant golden seabird circling overhead dove back into her tail, vanishing; the seabed dimmed in turn.

Both teams trusted Wang Cheng completely. At his word, they rowed swiftly ashore, returning to camp.

Wang Cheng changed clothes, then eagerly pried open a hard sea urchin shell with his dagger. This one was far more mature than the one eaten by the snapper; its interior was filled with orange-yellow paste, patterned like a monkey’s brain. The appearance was peculiar, but the concentrated, oceanic sweetness was irresistible.

Wang Cheng had tasted many rare seafoods, but few could compare to this in flavor.

“A fun fact: the edible part of a sea urchin is actually its gonads—the same as crab roe. But as long as you don’t think about it, it’s surprisingly delicious.”

With no further preparation, Wang Cheng scooped up a large chunk and popped it into his mouth. Warmth flooded his belly, his body grew hot, and the biting wind outside the tent suddenly felt refreshing.

He silently recited his wish, the deepest vow within him, using the Offering Method:

“Marquishood is not my desire—may the waves be calm! Settle them, settle them...”

Combining it with the Dragon Breathing Art, the heat inside him quickly calmed, and a cool clarity rose in his mind.

With this systematic Offering Method, his cultivation efficiency soared compared to refining his essence the old way. Wang Cheng gained a deeper understanding of this foundational practice:

“I scoff at superstitions, yet kneel long before the God of Wealth’s altar. I dismiss omens of disaster, but believe in signs of fortune. So, in the end, are people worshipping gods, or their own desires?”

Good or bad, only by anchoring the Offering Method with a single obsession does it gain substance. To sincerely beseech oneself to fulfill a wish or obsession is to kindle the heart’s lamp, that vital wick!

Obsessions may be long-term or fleeting; the longer one persists, the less need for constant adjustment, and the faster one’s cultivation progresses. Thus, Buddhist masters favor grand vows.

Many divine officials may not understand the Offering Method, yet in their long practices, they draw ever closer to it, developing all manner of strange obsessions.

Divine officials are but mortals, tangled in worldly desires; their strongest wishes are born of longing. No wonder, when Wang Cheng sought a master at the docks, most of the officials he met were eccentric, rife with vice.

Their minds were not refined by proper practice; unable to cultivate themselves, they could hardly teach others.

Wang Cheng’s official rank may not match theirs, but his insight now made him a teacher to most wild officials.

From that day forward, Wang Cheng and Han Shushu dove daily, guided by their noble fish to hunt monkey-brain sea urchins. With wish and obsession anchoring him, his heart’s light grew rapidly, unimpeded by any bottleneck.

There were no fresh peaches or perishable bananas aboard, but fortunately, the supplies included preserved peach candy. Though it induced monkey-like shrieks when broken, it did not tarnish Wang Cheng’s dignified image.

He was generous with his fishermen crew, sharing sea urchin among them.

His two talented lieutenants—a seventeen-year-old Zhang Wen, who had received the Yasha Staff Technique from Wang Cheng and was on the verge of breakthrough; and nineteen-year-old Zhang Wu, who had persevered with the Eight Wave-Cutting Blade for years and reached the brink of advancement—both ignited their heart’s light, their fates forever changed by Wang Cheng.

Meanwhile, Han Shushu finished clearing the shipwreck corpses, awaiting the formal excavation and divine ritual scheduled for the twentieth day of the twelfth month.

By the nineteenth—the day before the official salvage began—Wang Cheng had consumed nine monkey-brain sea urchins.

The heat within him surged to unprecedented strength, the lamp of his heart burning ever brighter until it thoroughly illuminated his head and shoulders.

The flames of fortune, prosperity, and longevity shone powerfully; the white heart’s light gradually tinged with red, the crimson ever intensifying.

Whoosh—

Suddenly, a warm wind swept from Wang Cheng’s core, instantly dispelling most of the chill within a radius of ten meters.

Without fanfare, he had broken through the final barrier of the lower third rank: the pure yang of the life fire.