Chapter 398: Awakening the Yin-Yang Eye

Yang Xun withdrew his palm and let out a long breath of stale air. He could feel that the True Qi within his body had depleted significantly after that strike, leaving the meridians throughout his body stinging with pain. Fortunately, the array had been completely destroyed, and those runes would no longer have any effect on him.

He straightened up, about to turn and leave, when a surge of intense pain shot from his Dantian, causing him to stumble half a step forward.

“COUGH!” A mouthful of fresh blood spurted from his throat, filling his mouth with a metallic sweetness. A few drops of blood splattered onto the back of his hand, warm and sticky. Yang Xun raised a hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, his head growing dizzy. Gritting his teeth, he refused to fall, using the last sliver of True Qi in his body to stabilize his condition.

“Ah Xun!” Sun Rao cried out in alarm, using all her strength to support him.

“I’m fine. My True Qi is just exhausted. Let’s get out of here first,” he said with a weak smile to reassure her.

Knowing full well that he was on the verge of collapsing, Sun Rao hurriedly supported him as they walked out. The earlier battle might have looked effortless, but the already unstable True Qi in his body was now almost entirely depleted. Waves of hollow stinging pain radiated from deep within his Dantian, and the power in his meridians receded as swiftly as an ebbing tide.

“You don’t look so good,” Sun Rao said, looking up at his face with a slight frown.

“Let’s just leave first.” Yang Xun fought back the urge to cough up another mouthful of blood.

The two walked up the passage they had come from, their pace somewhat slow. The aftershocks of shattering the array’s core still lingered in his palm, leaving it faintly numb. Sun Rao, looking tense, quickly helped him into the car.

The car drove away from the West Suburbs, heading toward the city proper. Leaning back in the passenger seat, Yang Xun closed his eyes. He could feel that the True Qi in his Dantian was practically gone, like a final, feeble trickle on a dried-up riverbed. He clenched his jaw, desperately circulating his cultivation technique in an attempt to stabilize his Dantian, but that sense of emptiness washed over him in endless, tidal waves.

As the car entered the city, the night deepened. The streetlights streamed past the windows, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face. After an unknown amount of time, he felt the car come to a stop.

“Ah Xun? We’re here.” Sun Rao’s voice came from beside him, carrying a cautious, probing tone.

Yang Xun wanted to reply, but his throat felt as if something was blocking it. He could only let out a muffled groan. His consciousness began to blur, his mind enshrouded in a thick fog.

“Ah Xun?!” Sun Rao’s voice rose a few pitches, tinged with obvious panic.

Yang Xun struggled to speak, but in the next second, he plunged completely into darkness.

The moment his consciousness sank into the dark, Yang Xun thought he would fall into sheer chaos. However, he soon found himself standing in a grayish-white space. There was no ground beneath his feet and no sky above his head—only an infinitely extending void. He looked down at his hands; the outlines of his palms were clear, and his body was perfectly intact.

“Where the hell am I?” he muttered. He tentatively took a step forward. The space beneath his feet rippled faintly, as if he were stepping on the surface of water.

In the distance, a faint cluster of light was slowly brightening. Yang Xun looked up and saw that at the very center of the light hovered an entirely crimson egg. Ancient patterns swirled across its surface as it pulsed rhythmically like a beating heart.

It was that blood-colored dragon egg!

He quickened his pace toward the glow. As he drew closer, the ancient, vigorous patterns on the dragon egg’s surface became increasingly clear. Cyclones of air swirled slowly around the egg like invisible silk ribbons, wrapping it in a gentle embrace.

Yang Xun stood before the dragon egg, his gaze falling upon the twelve slots around it. Two of the slots were already lit up, emitting a warm, mellow luster. The first slot displayed a rabbit totem—Rabbit Origin Qi. The second slot held a snake totem—Snake Origin Qi. And right now, the third slot was slowly lighting up. The totem of a sheep gradually surfaced, its light growing stronger by the second.

Once the third slot reached its brightest point, a surge of warm power abruptly gushed from the dragon egg and spread through his meridians. Wherever that power passed, his previously dried-up meridians felt as if they were being nourished by spring water, radiating with renewed vitality. He could clearly feel the cyclone deep within his Dantian reforming, slowly flowing through the meridians across his entire body.

With a muffled THUMP, the barrier of the eighth layer of the Qi Refining Realm shattered like thin ice. His True Qi skyrocketed, and his meridians widened. The bottleneck was broken in the blink of an eye, and his cultivation continued to climb, only slowing to a halt once it reached the peak of the ninth layer of the Qi Refining Realm.

Now, he was only one step away from the Foundation Establishment Realm.

Standing in place, Yang Xun closed his eyes to savor the power within his body—a power several times more vigorous than before. His mind needed a moment to process it all.

“Congratulations, my child!” An old, familiar voice suddenly echoed through the grayish-white space, laced with gentle relief and gratification.

Yang Xun’s eyes snapped wide open as he looked in the direction of the voice. At some point, his grandfather’s figure had appeared behind the dragon egg. He was wearing the same washed-out gray tunic that lived in Yang Xun’s memories, his face kind and serene.

“Grandpa!” Yang Xun’s voice trembled with clear excitement as he quickly stepped forward.

The old man’s silhouette was gaunt, appearing as nothing more than an ethereal illusion. Yang Xun’s expression dimmed with melancholy. He knew his grandfather was long gone; this was merely a projection he had left behind.

“I never expected you to absorb three types of Origin Qi so quickly. You truly are a child of the Yang family,” the old man said with a beaming smile. He raised a hand to point at the blood-colored dragon egg. “A wisp of my remnant soul resides within this egg. It will only manifest whenever you absorb new Origin Qi and unlock a new slot.”

Yang Xun opened his mouth, staying silent for a moment before finally asking the questions he had suppressed for so long. “Who exactly are my parents? Why did they leave me in Zhonghai? And what on earth is inside this dragon egg?”

The old man looked at him, as if having long anticipated these questions. He simply let out a soft sigh and slowly replied, “I cannot tell you the identities of your biological parents right now.

“Your strength is still insufficient. Knowing too much will do you no good.

“They left you this cultivation technique and the legacy of their medical skills, hoping that one day you could rely on your own abilities to reach the pinnacle and revitalize the Yang family.”

Yang Xun’s gaze fell on the blood-red dragon egg. After a moment of silence, he asked again, “Then… are my parents still alive?”

The old man stayed quiet for a few seconds. Instead of answering directly, he gently patted Yang Xun’s shoulder. “You will naturally know the answer to that question once you open the dragon egg.

“What you must do now is continue to improve your strength.”

As he spoke, the old man pointed a finger at Yang Xun’s chest. “You have already awakened the Yin-Yang Eye. It is a very special talent that allows you to see things ordinary people cannot.

“Not just Yin souls and spectral entities, but also the subtle flow of Qi, acupoints, and meridians. When applied to your medical skills, you will be far more precise than before.”

Yang Xun blanked slightly. No wonder he felt his vision had become so much clearer than before—it turned out he had awakened a new ability.