Chapter 6: The Three Sacred Sites

In addition, as Li Hao’s Sword Dao cultivation deepened, the proficiency of his Tide of the Infinite Sea – Tide technique had ascended from Perfect to Supreme Perfection!

The rich memories of Sword Dao flowing through his mind made him feel as though he’d been wielding a blade for decades.

The once-perfect tidal swordsmanship—already at the pinnacle of mastery—now revealed subtle flaws in his eyes. Not flaws in execution, but inherent limitations within the technique itself.

After all, no sword art could be flawless in every aspect.

Much like a perfectly crafted staff—capable of smashing and splitting, yet utterly useless for cutting.

Now, Li Hao had filled that one gap—the point where force fell short—through his own profound understanding of Sword Dao.

He recalled the military sword instructor who had taught Li Qianfeng, the man who once said: Beyond the three realms of technique, there exists a fourth—unattainable by ordinary means.

Now, Li Hao stood at that very fourth realm: Supreme Perfection.

Yet… despite the breakthrough, he had never once actually performed the technique.

He had only rehearsed it in his mind, pushing it to the absolute limit.

But still, he felt a deep certainty: If I hold a sword in my hand, I can unleash it exactly as it should be.

The only unknown? The toll it would take on his body.

His current childlike frame was far too fragile. Even when he grew older, he doubted a normal body could withstand the sheer force of that dazzling sword art.

It required a body of iron.

"A sword technique, no matter how exquisite, is meaningless if it cannot be drawn."

"Perhaps… I should find a body cultivation manual. I wonder if they’d accept it…"

The Li Family’s martial arts scriptures were countless—diverse, comprehensive, and meticulously preserved.

All were housed within the Pavilion of Listening to Rain, nestled deep inside the Divine General's Residence.

In Qingzhou City, three legendary sanctuaries stood renowned across the realm—places every aspiring martial cultivator dreamed of one day stepping into.

One was the Black and White Hall of the Tan Palace Academy.

Another was the Hundred Sparrow Garden of the Rouge Pavilion.

And the third—the Pavilion of Listening to Rain, within the Divine General's Residence, the Li Family’s ancestral stronghold.

Li Hao intended to seek an opportunity to visit.

But first, the specially prepared Strange Blood had already been mixed.

This year, like Bian Ruxue, he was undergoing the Blood Melting ritual.

And the Strange Blood used was of the highest quality—crafted from the spirit beast bones of a Millennial Demon Beast, a Sixth-Rank Top-Tier Herbal Medicine.

Even more astonishingly, it was said that Xing Wuhou, stationed at the Yanbei frontlines, had personally dispatched his father to slay a Three-Thousand-Year Dao-Cultivation Great Demon. The corpse had been transported back to the Divine General's Residence, elevating the potency of the Blood Melting elixir to unprecedented levels.

A Great Demon with three thousand years of cultivation—its lifespan nearly matched that of the ancient Great Yu Dynasty.

Li Hao was awestruck. And in that moment, he began to grasp the true strength of that man—the father of Xing Wuhou.

With Lin Haixia’s assistance, the Blood Melting began.

The crimson liquid, thick and fragrant with an otherworldly scent, coated Li Hao’s body.

His heart pounded with anticipation.

Soon, the familiar words flickered before his eyes:

{Unknown substance detected. Initiating analysis…}

{Analysis failed. Automatic isolation engaged.}

"...”

Li Hao was speechless.

This time, though, he felt a pang of sorrow.

This was something the man had risked his life to prepare for him. And now, it was all wasted.

Lin Haixia felt it too.

When he saw no reaction from Li Hao’s body, his own hands trembled slightly—more visibly than Li Hao’s.

Yet, everything had precedent.

After the failed Foundation Establishment, he had learned restraint.

This time, he didn’t lose composure. He simply closed his eyes, silently burying the disappointment and grief.

“Lin Shu,” Li Hao asked quietly, “did it fail?”

“…Yes.”

Lin Haixia opened his eyes, his gaze weary. He looked at Li Hao’s small face and smiled faintly—though the smile never reached his eyes.

What a tragedy, he thought. Born into the golden cradle of the Divine General’s Residence, heir to countless supreme martial arts resources… yet this child has no fortune to enjoy them.

Was it good fortune? Or bad?

“Lin Shu,” Li Hao asked again, “can I still use this Strange Blood for the little girl?”

Lin Haixia nodded slowly.

If Li Hao couldn’t benefit from it, then perhaps the little girl could.

“Wonderful!” Li Hao grinned.

Lin Haixia smiled too—just a little.

“Young Master,” he said, “I’ll scrape this off for you. You go rest.”

His smile was a mask.

Deep in his eyes, sorrow lingered.

“Alright.”

Li Hao nodded, not pressing further.

…

News of Li Hao’s failed Blood Melting spread quickly through the family’s various courtyards.

In the Water Splendor Courtyard, Liu Yuerong listened to her attendant’s hushed report. She raised an eyebrow, but her expression showed no great joy—only a quiet shake of her head.

She had secretly consulted someone at Mount Wu Liang. That elixir had no such side effects.

So this child—Li Hao—was simply born with a defective body.

A miracle only because he’d been born into the Li Family, into Ji Qingqing’s womb.

Had she known this earlier, she wouldn’t have needed that potion at all.

A useless body, even with Divine Blood, was still useless.

It only made her own son, Qianfeng, appear even more extraordinary.

After all, when both were third-generation heirs, both bearing Divine Blood—

One a wretched failure, the other a true dragon among men—

Who would the old lady truly favor?

Meanwhile, Bian Ruxue’s Blood Melting went flawlessly.

She absorbed the Strange Blood meant for Li Hao, and her martial talent soared even further.

In the coming months, she would simply need gentle cultivation, and by the time she reached Bone Quantification at Five, the results would be clear.

Li Hao heard the news and felt genuine joy for her.

But he himself now faced a new frustration: his Sword Dao Experience could no longer be gained through self-play.

So he turned to the maidservants beside him, asking them to play Go with him.

The maids, though obedient to his every word, hesitated.

They knew Li Hao’s Blood Melting had failed. He had no martial talent.

And now he wanted to waste time playing games?

Yes, they knew he’d shown natural talent for Go—always lying on the board, absorbed in the game.

But in a military aristocratic family, such talent was meaningless—nay, a disgrace.

A waste of time.

If the Elder Ladies found out they’d indulged Li Hao in such frivolity, their anger over his failure might be turned upon them.

The servants in the Divine General’s Residence were sharp-minded. They wouldn’t risk their lives for a child’s amusement.

So, cornered, Li Hao had no choice but to seek Lin Haixia.

When Lin Haixia learned the request, he was speechless.

He knew nothing of Go.

He found Li Hao’s cheerful ignorance both endearing and exasperating.

Yet he didn’t refuse.

“Perhaps,” he thought, “this last year before Bone Quantification is the child’s final season of joy.”

He agreed.

After handling Bian Ruxue’s affairs, he would play with Li Hao.

From then on, a familiar scene unfolded in the courtyard:

A tall man and a small boy, seated across from each other at a pavilion table, playing Go.

Beside them, a little girl stood on tiptoe, peering over the board.

And often, the child’s voice rang out:

“Wrong! You must place it on the intersection line, not inside the square!”

“That’s not a rule—this is called eating!”

“That area’s already surrounded—no more moves allowed!”

“You’re so slow! I’ve said it three times already!”

After each game, Li Hao was utterly exhausted—gaining only 1 experience point.

Far more tiring than playing alone.

Every time the opponent broke a rule, the game had to restart.

So he had to teach, explain, correct—constant vigilance.

Lin Haixia had expected only a casual pastime.

He never imagined Go had so many rules.

His face grew strained.

After several days, he simply vanished.

Li Hao stamped his tiny feet in frustration.

With no choice, he headed toward the Pavilion of Listening to Rain.

…

The Pavilion of Listening to Rain stood on the northern edge of the Divine General’s Residence, built into the mountain slope.

The estate was vast—large enough to drive horse carriages within its walls.

Beyond the courtyards of the Ladies, there were mountains, lakes, and winding gardens.

Though weathered by time, the pavilion looked like an unremarkable old seven-story building—plain, ancient, unimpressive.

Yet, across the world, countless eyes longed to glimpse its true form.

But no gaze dared cross the golden wall that guarded it.

Li Hao arrived at the pavilion’s gate with Zhao Bo, the old steward from the Mountain and River Courtyard.

Zhao Bo placed Li Hao down and pleaded earnestly:

“Young Master, this is the Li Family’s most sacred ground. Even the Ladies of the various courtyards must request permission from the Elder Lady to enter. We should return.”

Only two women—besides direct second-generation heirs—were permitted unrestricted access to the Pavilion of Listening to Rain: the Elder Lady, and one other.

“I did send word,” Li Hao said, hands behind his back, “I just want to take a look. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Zhao Bo was used to this mature tone from the young master—though he still couldn’t figure out where Li Hao had picked it up.

He sighed.

“But no reply has come yet. The Elder Lady may not consent. Though you do have the right to enter… you’re still too young.”

“Too young?” Li Hao scowled. “Are you doubting me?”

“Never, Young Master!” Zhao Bo hurried to assure him.

Li Hao turned away, bored.

He studied the ancient pavilion.

Seven stories high.

He’d heard that after Li Qianfeng completed his Bone Quantification and reached the Ninth-Rank Combat Body, that night, the woman—his mother—had petitioned the Elder Lady to find him a martial art.

And so, she had chosen the Sea Without Shore, hidden at the pavilion’s peak.

The Sea Without Shore had four forms.

Each one was unimaginably difficult.

It was said only Third Uncle had mastered the final form—so powerful that one strike nearly split half of Jingzhou in two.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end