Above, the heavens churned—swirling storm clouds pulsed with an oppressive majesty, pregnant with divine judgment.
BOOM!!
The second strike fell. A pillar of silver Qi crashed into the earth, its impact sending arcs of destruction screaming through the battlefield. The sheer force of the blow left molten scars where pine and soil had once stood.
Yet, amidst the chaos, the twin cauldron remained unscathed. The garden untouched. Its surface convulsed beneath the weight of heavenly wrath, rippling like disturbed water. Under the largest plum tree of the jade side of the twin cauldron, a man sat—naked, half-burnt, his body bathed in a mix of vibrant auras.
"I guess she's knocked out cold," Fang Lee thought aloud, his wounds mending at an accelerated rate, leaving behind faint scars upon his once-pristine flesh. His hand brushed the white hairs on Lian Xue's face. "I guess I'll forgive you for the burns. You're cute like this, after all~" he said as her breath brushed against his shaft, her soft lips and warm hand seeking forgiveness in sleep.
Now this is more like the wet dream I was looking for, he thought, glancing down at the unconscious white-haired beauty curled between his legs. He smiled, rubbing her head.
He mumbled something softly, and he wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he felt Lian Xue's palm slide slightly downward in an affectionate motion. His smile widened, and his gaze snapped skyward.
"Block it!"
Qi surged from his core, gentle yet fierce, as the floating jade statue—in the shape of a moonlike sphere—above him trembled and began to grow. In mere moments, the construct expanded sixfold, its once-delicate frame transforming into a towering jade colossus.
A green light erupted from its center—an inferno of jade flames roared outward, devouring all in their wake. Everything they touched—wood, stone, and earth—was not merely burned but petrified, transmuted into an eerie forest of jade sculptures. The battlefield became a twisted masterpiece of destruction, frozen in time.
RUMBLE. FLASH!
The storm howled in response. Bolts of lightning crackled within the churning tempest before a single streak of divine fury descended.
BOOM!!!
The second strike was not mere lightning. It was judgment. Raw, unfiltered Thunder Qi, condensed into a divine decree—submit or perish.
But Fang Lee did not kneel.
Instead, he breathed deep, inhaling the blazing Qi of his jade inferno. His cultivation surged, the flames refining his already vast Qi pool, amplifying his very existence.
"TEN SACRED SWORDS!"
With a roar, ten golden swords of Qi materialized behind him, their edges honed to perfection. Yet they did not remain golden for long. The green flames licking at their forms began to refine them, transforming them into jade spears, imbued with an eerie, destructive radiance.
And then—
They launched.
BOOM!!!
Ten sacred swords met the divine tribulation in mid-air. The collision detonated across the battlefield, sending thunderous shockwaves spiraling outward. The storm itself fractured, its divine decree interrupted, redirected into wild arcs of scattered destruction.
At the forest's edge, beyond the jade-burning inferno…
A lone woman in a nightly-dark hanfu stood upon a storm cloud, her presence exuding an aura of controlled power. The dark storm beneath her feet crackled with restrained Thunder Qi, an imitation of the heavenly tribulation above, though one that only paled slightly in comparison.
Watching the destruction unfold, the woman's lips curled into an amused smile.
"It seems my little cousin doesn't need my help after all~"
Fang Xiu's voice was elegant, lilting with amusement as she turned her gaze toward the trembling maid beside her.
Meng, the young servant girl, looked utterly disheveled—her hair a tangled mess, her attire hastily thrown on. The white pants she wore bore a smudge of red between her thighs, a stark reminder of what she had endured before escaping into the forest.
"Y-Yes… Young Mistress Fang Xiu," Meng stammered, her gaze flickering toward the jade-burning battlefield. At its heart stood her master, Fang Lee—naked, unscathed, his cultivation surging wildly. Above him, a jade effigy of the moon hovered, fueling the raging inferno with its boundless Qi.
Fang Xiu tapped a delicate finger to her chin. "You said he was fighting his fiancée, yes? Lian Xue, was it?"
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze drifting toward the storm-ridden sky.
"Tell me, little Meng—how long ago did you run for help?"
Meng's expression shifted. Panic. Confusion.
"Tw—no, five? I—" Her words faltered, a deep unease gripping her. The memories were… muddled. She had fled the battlefield mere moments ago—or had it been hours? She had stumbled through the forest, lost and desperate—but hadn't she found Fang Mei almost instantly?
That couldn't be right.
Fang Xiu's smile didn't falter. "Ah~ it's fine if you don't remember. Just enjoy the show. Who knows? Perhaps this will be enlightening for when you reach Foundation Establishment and have to face your own tribulation."
As she spoke, the storm cloud beneath them shifted. It expanded outward, its presence dark and consuming, wrapping itself around them like a cocoon. Thunder Qi danced along its surface, shifting from pitch-black into a vibrant, electric blue, sealing them within yet leaving their view of the battlefield unobstructed.
Slowly, it advanced, gliding through the jade-flame-covered forest.
Meng swallowed, her unease still lingering, but she lowered her gaze in understanding. "I will take this opportunity to gain insight. Thank you for your guidance, Mistress Fang Xiu."
She forced herself to focus on the battle before her.
Yet, in the back of her mind, the unsettling truth gnawed at her.
The forest was clearly under a distortion formation—one specifically designed to warp people's perception of time. No, it wasn't just that. The formation seemed crafted to distort the perceptions of those not part of the main Fang family, perhaps even to prevent mortals from fleeing if they ever stumbled into the vast, secluded forest.
Meng wasn't a fool. She understood this instinctively.
And Fang Xiu's knowing smile confirmed it—she was right.
Lightning cracked across the sky, shattering the jade landscape. A furious storm howled—its winds uprooting jade-covered trees, sending them tumbling into the depths of chaos. Thunder deafened the air. Blinding bolts of energy scorched everything they struck, turning the very atmosphere into a searing furnace.
Yet each strike met defiance. Jade swords shimmered with gold and fire Qi, clashing against the heavens' fury. Each deflection pushed the storm back, but with every redirect, the wrath of the skies only intensified—as if the heavens themselves resented his resistance.
The lightning grew fiercer. The winds turned sharp and predatory. Rain, heavy with purification, fell with divine force, smothering the once-raging green flames. The jade-covered landscape began to collapse, reverting to charred, crumbling soil.
"How many tribulations are there?" Fang Lee thought, his irritation mounting as he glared at the storm. The moon—or now, the sun—of his Foundation Establishment treasure collided with a terrifying bolt of lightning, its flaming surface meeting the celestial fury with a thunderous crash.
He plucked a petal from a tulip beside him. It began to absorb moisture. His fingers moved, pointing skyward.
"In this world, I make this vow: I, Fang Lee, will defy the heavens and protect you till my last breath! Tears of Lian Xue!"
He roared, voice filled with fierce determination as his inner wuxia spirit surged. His focus locked onto the chaotic Qi within him, reshaping and forcing it to evolve.
The transformation was immediate. The dominant green Qi swirling around him gave way to gentle blue and red hues. Tulips in his garden glowed faintly, their petals warping as they drank in the tribulation's rain.
Red fire, blue water, and poison Qi surged, pushing against the steady green. The balance broke. The shift rippled outward, affecting even the statue above.
Once-cool jade turned a deep, fiery red. Cracks crawled along its surface, releasing waves of blistering heat. Space itself distorted. The rain vaporized on contact, thickening into a steaming mist absorbed by the thirsty garden.
"Shine~" Fang Lee murmured.
The petal between his fingers pulsed, then shot a stream of water. From its edge, a glinting blade of Qi tore through the air. More followed, unstable but powerful—caught between destruction and rebirth.
"Ten Sacred Swords!" he bellowed.
Ten golden swords, cloaked in flame, shot into the sky. Then they multiplied—fifty, sixty, a hundred. Each shimmered with the intensity of his Foundation Qi. Summoning them no longer drained him. His new cultivation realm had lifted the limits.
As lightning poured down, his swords formed an unbreakable dome overhead. Thunder cracked. The storm turned savage. Stray bolts spiraled toward him, but the wall of blades met each one head-on, scattering the celestial energy into harmless arcs.
One bolt broke through—
Boom!
It struck his makeshift shield. With a deafening snap, the energy dispersed in all directions. Lightning Qi showered down. Fang Lee absorbed it, letting the power fortify his cultivation.
He needed every ounce. The next wave was coming.
RUMBLE!! FLASH! FLASH! RUMBLE!! FLASH!
The sky roared again as the next wave fell. Heaven's fury escalated. Dozens of water blades piercing into the clouds summoned more wrath. His hands turned cold, the petal between his fingers now spewing ice.
"Frozen Heavenly Decree!"
Fang Lee's aura flared. Energy burst around him as he gritted his teeth, preparing to redirect the storm's power.
"Die!" he shouted to the heavens, his voice iron-willed. Water from all the tulips turned cold instantly as he flash-froze the streams.
The clouds began to freeze.
Ice spread through the sky.
And the storm responded.
Five new tribulation bolts fell—faster, fiercer. But Fang Lee was ready. He used half his Qi to summon more than one hundred golden swords, bringing the total to two hundred forty-six.
Each sword, surrounded by a white Qi aura, glowed with renewed intensity. Flames swirled around the blades, amplifying their strength. The inferno surged higher, growing more uncontrollable as the storm advanced.
Each sword became a beacon of radiant power.
And Fang Lee grinned through the chaos.
This was the true power of Foundation Establishment:
The ability to shape the battlefield itself.