Chapter Forty-Two: The Jade Mother's Womb Pool

“…And what might you mean by that, fellow cultivator?”

Rong Tuo forced himself to suppress the tingling on his scalp and asked.

“Simple enough. I have only three conditions. First, if Tong Gaolu should die, I’ll take not a single coin of his mortal wealth; but his Universe Pouch and all his cultivation resources rightfully belong to me,” Chen Heng raised a finger. “However, if there are any manuals or records of techniques, I will allow you to copy one set each. What do you say?”

Rong Tuo and Rong Xuandao exchanged glances, hesitated a moment, but then nodded almost imperceptibly.

“As for the second matter, I require two thousand talisman coins to replenish the energy I’ll expend. The Rong clan has ruled for over three centuries—surely such a sum is of little concern to you?”

At these words, both Rong Tuo and Rong Xuandao shook their heads at once, gesturing repeatedly.

Talisman coins are painstakingly forged from the essence of void-spirit energy, and among the 129,600 kinds of spiritual energies, their attributes are the most refined and pure—“the origin.” They not only restore vital breath and true qi, but also serve as currency in daily exchanges.

As for the Golden Core and Nascent Soul cultivators, they use what is called “law coins,” a grade higher still.

Two thousand talisman coins—for an ordinary practitioner of energy refinement, such a sum would be enough for a breakthrough to the next level.

The reward Chen Heng received for risking his life in the Abyss was only eight hundred talisman coins and two bottles of Minor Sun Pills, and that came from the private funds of the Xuan Zhen Sect’s master… For a typical family of wandering cultivators, two thousand talisman coins was indeed an enormous fortune.

“You overestimate us, friend! The Southern Domain is a poor land, starved of spiritual energy, and our Rong nation is but a small principality—how could we possibly afford such a bloodletting?” Rong Tuo said awkwardly, “Could you perhaps reduce the amount?”

“A deal is a matter of give and take, after all. How much would you like to cut, just say it plainly.” Chen Heng smiled.

Rong Tuo hesitated for some time before tentatively naming a figure. He wished to save as much as possible for his clan, but feared cutting too much and provoking Chen Heng’s anger—and perhaps his own doom.

The negotiation tugged back and forth a few more times before Rong Tuo relented with a wry, cupped-handed salute.

“Let’s set the second matter aside for now. We can discuss it in detail later. Why not tell us your third condition?”

“The third…” Chen Heng’s eyes flickered, their depths like sunlight dancing on a rippling lake—impossible to tell if they were still or shifting. He said:

“This mortal world’s spiritual energies are foul and scattered, difficult to gather. Might I borrow your ‘Jade Womb Pool’ for a time?”

Though his voice was calm, his words crashed like thunder. Rong Tuo and Rong Xuandao’s faces changed instantly, and they both took several steps back.

“Absolutely not!” Rong Tuo’s voice was firm and decisive. “That Jade Womb Pool is the very foundation of our clan’s existence. You must ask for something else!”

Such a reaction did not surprise Chen Heng; he merely chuckled softly.

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Heaven and earth hold 129,600 types of spiritual energy, forming a complete whole, varying in abundance, with spiritual caverns at the pinnacle.

These spiritual caverns devour the void and contain all five colors, serving as supreme vessels for the gathering of spiritual power, the purest places for immortals to refine their essence and ascend.

Beneath the spiritual caverns lie the spiritual veins.

Spiritual veins are ranked according to the ten heavenly stems—Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Wu, Ji, Geng, Xin, Ren, and Gui.

Below the spiritual veins is the “Jade Womb Pool.”

Though also a place to gather spiritual energy, it is not a natural creation, but an artifact of human craftsmanship. With jade essence, agate, black crystal, purple crystal, cloud rock, and matured milk as its base, it is fired and sealed for three years. Once the yin is stored, the yang is reborn; the mind is emptied to feed the flames, new energy feeds the upper pool, old energy drains below. When a white radiance of three zhang length shines through, a craftsman is invited to consecrate it. Only then does a Jade Womb Pool come into being.

Gathering places for spiritual energy: spiritual caverns, ten grades of spiritual veins, and the Jade Womb Pool.

The Jade Womb Pool, though ranked lowest and the work of human hands rather than Heaven’s gift, still has the power to attract and hold spiritual energy, drawing it into a single pool, endlessly nourishing those who cultivate their vital breath.

It cannot match even the lowest grade of spiritual vein, yet for the countless cultivators across the nine provinces and four seas who cannot claim a spiritual vein, building a Jade Womb Pool is the highest foundation they can hope to leave their descendants.

The Jade Womb Pool of the Rong family was created by their founding ancestor and has nurtured their energy refiners for over three centuries.

Hearing Chen Heng’s request to use their Jade Womb Pool, regardless of his sect’s status, Rong Tuo’s first instinct was to refuse.

“I only need seven or eight days at most, nothing more,” Chen Heng said calmly. “In just a few days, aside from the time spent drawing in energy, how many hours could I truly cultivate?”

At this, even Rong Tuo’s initial resolve wavered, and beside him, Rong Xuandao seemed on the verge of agreeing.

It did make sense.

Energy refinement is most tedious when it comes to sifting and selecting from the 129,600 types of spiritual energy.

On any given day, the act of gathering energy can take up seventy to eighty percent of a cultivator’s effort—sometimes up to ninety percent for those less adept.

After a full day’s toil, one might only manage to strengthen a few wisps of vital breath—hardly worth the effort.

“Only seven or eight days? Then perhaps…” Rong Tuo grew more hesitant, frowning in indecision. But before he could resolve himself, a sudden blast of wind swept through the hall, and a beam of light flashed down, bathing the chamber in a rosy glow like wildfire scattered across the stars.

From that crimson light stepped a gallant youth, clad in brocade and a jeweled crown, sword at his waist, his bearing bold and spirited.

He glanced first at Chen Heng, a trace of suspicion flickering in his brows, but quickly concealed it with practiced composure, and offered Chen Heng a courteous greeting with a gentle smile.

---

“Behold, our clan’s very own prodigy!” Rong Tuo breathed a sigh of relief at the youth’s arrival, quickly taking him by the hand to change the subject and introduce him to Chen Heng.

From their conversation, Chen Heng learned that the youth’s name was Rong Jin, Crown Prince of the Rong nation, already at the fifth stage of energy refinement, and accomplished in both civil and martial arts.

Rong Jin said little at first, waiting until Rong Tuo’s lengthy introduction was done before flashing a genial smile and inviting everyone to sit.

Not long after, he suddenly raised his wine cup, toasting Chen Heng from across the room.

“I’ve heard much of your reputation as a disciple of a great sect. Meeting you today, I see you truly possess extraordinary poise,” he said, lifting the cup towards Chen Heng. “Please, accept this humble drink!”

Rong Tuo grinned foolishly, but did not echo the gesture. Rong Xuandao simply bowed his head in silence.

As the cup sailed through the air towards him, Chen Heng understood at once—this was a test.

Cultivation duels come in two flavors: contests of wit and contests of strength.

This wine cup was of the refined variety. Hidden at its base was a strand of Rong Jin’s vital breath; if the recipient could not subdue it upon grasping the cup, the vessel would shatter and the wine spill in front of all—an embarrassing failure.

Chen Heng, however, was unfazed. With unhurried grace, he extended a hand from his wide sleeve and caught the cup.

Ordinarily, one would use their own energy to quell and disperse the intruding vital breath—a test not only of one’s skill, but also of the finesse with which vital energy was circulated and controlled.

Too much force, and the wine would slosh out; too little, and the cup would draw too close to the chest—both breaches of decorum.

Just as Chen Heng was about to release his own vital breath, a sudden impulse stirred within him—a mysterious force took hold. Under its influence, Rong Jin’s vital breath was drawn into him like a mud-cow entering the sea, vanishing without a trace.

“Wait… The attribute of the ‘Primordial True Essence’—so it can be used this way?” Chen Heng was startled, but sensed that the vital breath now settled quietly within him, just like any other spiritual energy he had absorbed, ready to be refined at any moment.

The faintest lift of his brows betrayed a hint of delight.

“It seems I’ve discovered yet another way to strengthen my vital breath.”

His thoughts raced, but his movements were unbroken.

He caught the cup, smiled slightly, and rose to his feet, his robe fluttering around him, exuding an air of otherworldly grace.

“This wine is good, but it lacks a certain richness. Since courtesy demands reciprocity, allow me to offer you all a toast as well.”

With an easy laugh, Chen Heng flicked his sleeve—and in that instant, the faces of those at the table changed dramatically.