Chapter 684: Demoted to a Mortal

Although Jiyuan said nothing when he looked at Minxian, his gaze still made Minxian feel uneasy. The latter, half-guilty and half-curious, quickly asked, "Mr. Ji, is there some kind of monster in this painting? I consider myself well-traveled and knowledgeable, but I've never seen anything like it."

The crunching sound from the Xiechi painting continued without stop. Jiyuan expected Xiechi to be angry at Minxian's words, but the painting remained unresponsive, simply continuing to eat. Jiyuan did not answer Minxian immediately. Instead, he looked at the painting and asked, "Such a small insect, can it take this long to eat?"

Xiechi apparently heard him. At Jiyuan's question, the Xiechi in the painting shifted its eyes slightly towards Jiyuan and asked in a rhetorical tone, "If it were you, after having forgotten how many years it's been since you had a proper meal, and you suddenly come across a single mouthful of what you remember as a delicacy, would you swallow it whole or chew slowly, savor it, and swallow gradually? Besides, this golden-armored flying mang beetle is quite chewy."

"Fair point," Jiyuan replied. "But since you can hear, why are you completely unresponsive when someone nearby guesses you're a monster?"

Minxian, standing nearby, felt a surge of tension. He opened his mouth but dared not speak. The Xiechi in the painting rolled its eyes, seemingly glancing at Minxian out of the corner of its eye. This single glance made Minxian, unable to use his powers at the moment, feel like an ordinary person falling into a winter ice cave. His already goose-bumped body became completely chilled.

"Ignorance breeds fearlessness. There's no need or qualification for me to care."

Minxian didn't know whether to be angry or relieved by these words. Jiyuan, understanding, shook his hand, and the Xiechi painting was put away. As the scroll disappeared into Jiyuan's sleeve, the chewing sound also vanished.

After the silence, Jiyuan, who had only been riding the wind, now summoned a cloud for faster travel, carrying Minxian and Jinjia southwest. Jiyuan remained silent for a long time, but the quiet atmosphere kept Minxian uneasy. He still dared not initiate conversation.

"Minxian, it seems you still had some reservations about the previous bug-magic solution?"

Minxian's nervousness throughout the journey had been precisely because he was waiting for Jiyuan to ask this question. Although Jiyuan didn't have a menacing appearance or aura, and Minxian believed he had long since put life and death out of his mind, the feeling of tension and apprehension in Jiyuan's presence persisted.

"I have already told you all the solutions I know, Mr. Ji, please understand!"

Jiyuan nodded.

"I believe you, Minxian. However, regarding that Bug Emperor, there might be things even you don't know, and you deliberately avoided mentioning it?"

Minxian's breath faltered slightly. He offered no further explanation, essentially admitting it. After a long pause, he asked in a low voice, "How do you intend to deal with my fellow disciples?"

"Still the same question," Jiyuan replied. "Do you want to die directly, or do you want to live out the rest of your life as a mortal?"

Even in his current predicament, Minxian didn't want to die, so his reply was not reserved. "It's always better to live than to die quickly. After what happened, surely you won't just take away my cultivation, Mr. Ji?"

"Heh heh..." Jiyuan laughed, accelerating the cloud flight. He answered, "You've cultivated for several centuries. Even if you lose all your magical power, your physical body has already been completely transformed. I will take away your magical power, and also a portion of your vital essence. Just like your appearance, from now on, you will simply be an eighty-year-old man, and your life, death, wealth, and fate will be left to heaven."

Jiyuan paused before continuing, "As for whether any of your fellow sect members can find you, don't even think about it."

Minxian sighed inwardly. With Jiyuan saying this, there would likely be no changes. Moreover, as an eighty-year-old, even walking might be difficult, and he wouldn't have family to care for him. If he were in a peaceful area, it might be fine, but if he's left anywhere in Zuyue, it would be hard to say if he'd survive for even a few days, let alone years.

"Where will you put me, Mr. Ji?"

Jiyuan scrutinized the old-faced immortal cultivator before him. Though they were on opposing sides, Minxian was a genuine high-level immortal cultivator compared to most of the immortal masters appointed by the Song clan of Zuyue, and he didn't possess much malevolence.

"Don't worry," Jiyuan said. "I will place you in Da Zhen."

"Da Zhen?" Minxian was slightly stunned, unsure of the enigmatic Mr. Ji's intentions.

The journey eastward had been marked by intense battles and magical confrontations, but the return westward caused fewer significant changes. Jiyuan simply patrolled the southern borders of Zuyue on his cloud, confirming the facts he had deduced on his way back.

Numerous soldiers in the Zuyue army who had contracted the insect plague, as well as civilians who had intentionally or accidentally been infected, found that the insects within them had either died or were beginning to die. Even those not yet dead had lost their vitality, their demise only a matter of time, and they would no longer rampage within the body.

Of course, not everyone escaped unscathed. Those with more severe insect plagues, even if the insects died within them, remained weak. They might fall into a coma after the insects died, and without timely medical intervention, they faced considerable danger. Some, like the previously mentioned Xu Niu, who had been particularly severe, were more likely to die suddenly, and this wasn't a small number.

It must be said that this was a blow to the Zuyue army, but it wasn't necessarily a massive one. After all, the military divisions cruelly used to cultivate insect soldiers were not the true main force. While a considerable number were affected in total, their combat effectiveness wouldn't suffer too much; they simply couldn't use them for intimidation anymore.

For Jiyuan, breaking a demon cultivator's power might lack some theoretical basis and practical experience, making it difficult to approach. However, when it came to nullifying the cultivation of a legitimate immortal cultivator, Jiyuan had his own unique methods.

A day later, in a desolate mountain forest in Tongzhou, Dazhen, Jiyuan landed on a hilltop with Jinjia and Minxian. Jiyuan swept his sleeve, wiping dust off several rocks on the hilltop, then pointed his hand towards the stones. "Sit."

"Yes," Minxian replied. He sat on a rock, watching Jiyuan sit beside him. The situation was settled, and now he was more curious about how Jiyuan would take away his cultivation. Would he destroy his bodily orifices, severely wound his nascent soul back into a mortal soul state, or something else?

Jiyuan had naturally considered the same questions. Originally, his methods were rather crude, but upon seeing the Xiechi painting, he had a different idea—an exciting and innovative one. Jiyuan firmly believed that there were no inherent divine powers or wondrous techniques in the world; rather, the ingenious ideas of highly cultivated individuals led to the development of all sorts of profound methods. The moment Xiechi asked for the Bug Emperor to eat, Jiyuan had an inspiration, an idea that thrilled him.

The result was that after Minxian saw Jiyuan sit down, a white paper and a wolf-hair brush flew out of Jiyuan's sleeve. Jiyuan grasped the brush and asked Minxian, "What does the inner landscape of your body look like? Mountains, green forests, flowing water, deep lakes—you can contemplate it in your mind, calm yourself, and tell me."

"My inner landscape?" Minxian asked.

"Exactly, your inner landscape," Jiyuan confirmed.

Minxian frowned, then said no more. Although his magical power was sealed, focusing his mind and entering a meditative state were instincts for someone of his cultivation level. The next moment, he entered a state of tranquil contemplation, simultaneously murmuring his thoughts.

In a trance, Minxian felt as if he was no longer observing his inner landscape from outside, as he usually did during cultivation. Instead, his perception seemed to be inside the landscape, observing everything. Gradually, this sensation grew stronger.

"Mountains supporting an alchemy furnace. Indeed, a legitimate immortal cultivation path, not even considered an evil one," Jiyuan's voice suddenly came from beside him. Minxian, in his meditative state, was slightly surprised because the voice came from *within* his inner landscape.

"Heh heh, since it's within your mind, you naturally need to open your perception," Jiyuan said. When he heard this, Minxian instinctively opened his eyes, only to suddenly realize that he and Jiyuan were indeed sitting on a mountaintop, but it wasn't the desolate mountain in Tongzhou, Dazhen, from the outside world. It was the tall mountain from his own inner landscape.

Although this mountain was vast and towering, distant views were shrouded in thick mist, clearly marking the boundary of his inner landscape.

Streaks of firelight flickered across his face. Minxian stood up, turning to look behind him. An alchemy furnace stood atop the mountain, with raging flames burning within it. Above the furnace was a golden wheel of light, extending far into the sky.

'The alchemy furnace, the golden bridge!' Minxian thought.

"Precisely your alchemy furnace and golden bridge," Jiyuan said, as if knowing Minxian's thoughts. He didn't look up, nor did he stop his hand movements. A sheet of paper floated flat in the air, and the brush in his hand continuously moved across it, tracing lines.

"Mr. Ji, you..." Minxian began.

Jiyuan ignored Minxian, looked up at his surroundings, and began to write again. Minxian dared not disturb him. He marveled at the surrounding mountains and waters, occasionally cautiously approaching his own inner landscape's alchemy furnace and gently touching it. A warm sensation emanated from his hand. Everything felt so real, as if he were truly exploring an unknown high mountain, yet the surrounding Dao essence and familiar feeling clearly told Minxian that this was his own inner landscape.

"Mr. Ji, how did you do this? How am I able to enter my inner landscape physically, and how are you able to enter it as well?" Minxian asked.

"There's nothing to discuss about that," Jiyuan said without looking up, gesturing to Minxian. "Come over, how do you find my painting skills?"

Minxian, currently full of curiosity, quickly walked over to inspect as Jiyuan had asked. He saw that on the white paper in front of Jiyuan, there were mountains and water—a vivid depiction of his own inner landscape. "Mr. Ji, your painting is incredibly masterful, as if you've simply transferred my inner landscape onto paper."

"Is it very similar?" Jiyuan asked.

"Like a real scene!" Minxian replied.

Jiyuan nodded, then stood up with a smile. "That's good!"

After saying this, Jiyuan looked at Minxian, whose heart inexplicably fluttered. His gaze then shifted to the alchemy furnace not far away. The wolf-hair brush in his hand seemed to drip with ink. As Jiyuan waved it, words glowing with ink and interwoven with golden threads appeared, encircling the alchemy furnace. "Come."

*Rumble, rumble, rumble...* Jiyuan's voice, though calm and even, was as loud as rolling thunder, shaking the entire inner landscape. The alchemy furnace in front slowly began to rise.

"No, no..." Minxian instinctively tried to block it, but it was useless. Within a few breaths, the alchemy furnace flew directly into Jiyuan's painting.

The moment the alchemy furnace entered the painting, a strong feeling of emptiness and decay arose from Minxian's body. "Gah... uh-huh..."

On the mountaintop in the outside world, a sweat-drenched Minxian suddenly awoke from his meditation. He carefully sensed himself, no longer feeling the presence of his alchemy furnace, or even his inner landscape and golden bridge. He stiffly turned his head to the side. Jiyuan held a painting vibrant with mountains and water, and on its mountaintop stood an alchemy furnace. In the painting, the furnace's fire was now dim, and a lonely wisp of smoke drifted.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Your physique also needs to be taken. This painting makes it much easier," Jiyuan said. He unfurled the scroll in his hand, pointed the brush metaphorically at Minxian, then guided it towards the painting. Subsequently, wisps of green smoke began to emerge from Minxian's seven orifices and various parts of his body, flowing into the scroll in Jiyuan's hand and into the alchemy furnace depicted in the painting.

"Uh-huh... ah-uh..." This feeling of powerlessness was terrifying, far more dreadful than Minxian had imagined. With each wisp of green smoke that was drawn away, Minxian's sense of weakness deepened. By the time no more smoke emerged from his body, he felt that even the cold wind blowing on the mountaintop made him shiver uncontrollably, and he could barely maintain his balance.

"I have taken your lifelong cultivation. From this day forward, learn to be a mortal once again." Compared to Minxian, whose throat trembled and who couldn't speak, Jiyuan's voice remained calm, unchanging like the mountain wind, like heaven itself, like the Dao.