Having crafted the jade slips, Wang Lin swept his divine sense across the valley, leaving no cranny untouched, no villager hidden from his gaze. He appraised them one by one and was struck by their innate potential. Each one possessed a talent far surpassing his own humble beginnings.

A bittersweet pang of nostalgia mixed with a burgeoning hope filled him. These souls, gifted with such raw power, were ripe for cultivation. Though the valley lacked spiritual energy, it pulsed with the wild heart of demonic essence. Perhaps, through harnessing this force to nourish the wood of their Soul Banners, they could achieve unforeseen heights.

With this thought in mind, Wang Lin reached out with his divine sense, seeking Ouyang Hua, the elder who plotted raids on neighboring settlements. He found him immersed in his schemes and whispered instructions into his ear before withdrawing his consciousness.

Before long, Ouyang Hua arrived in a flurry of dust and hurried steps, his face etched with reverence. The sudden intrusion of Wang Lin’s voice into his thoughts had sent a jolt through him, prompting an immediate and eager response.

With a flick of his wrist, Wang Lin sent two jade slips spiraling towards the elder.

Ouyang Hua caught them with trembling hands. A close inspection brought a flush of excitement to his weathered face. “Immortal… is this a Demonic Grimoire?”

“A Grimoire of sorts,” Wang Lin mused, recalling ancient records from the memories of Luo Yun, which spoke of such things in this land of demonic spirits.

Clutching the jade slips, Ouyang Hua drew a shaky breath. He studied them for a long while, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Finally, he confessed in a hushed tone, “Immortal, I know of their power to record, but I know not how to unlock their secrets.”

“Place it against your brow,” Wang Lin instructed, “and focus your mind, imagining yourself delving into its depths. With unwavering resolve, the knowledge within will reveal itself. Should you falter, persist.” With these words, the immortal closed his eyes in meditation.

Ouyang Hua, heart pounding, settled into a cross-legged posture. He pressed the jade slip to his forehead and strained his mind, conjuring the image of its hidden knowledge. Yet, after a time, his brow furrowed in frustration. No matter how he tried, he could not pierce the veil.

Though his eyes were closed, Wang Lin observed Ouyang Hua with unwavering scrutiny. This elder held his position not through age alone, but because, as a boy, he had journeyed to the ancient demon city and been found to possess a single star’s worth of power. Too little to reside within the city walls, it was enough to elevate him among his own people.

Within Ouyang Hua’s form, Wang Lin detected a faint, threadlike presence swirling sluggishly within his dantian. However, the elder’s meridians were clogged and constricted, limiting both the speed and scope of its flow. Nonetheless, this fragile energy could be amplified by the valley’s protective array, allowing him to manipulate its workings and conjure fleeting illusions.

After an hour of fruitless attempts, Ouyang Hua surrendered, a look of bitter resignation on his face. He shook his head in silent defeat.

Wang Lin opened his eyes, a spark of arcane power glinting within them. With a flick of his hand, Ouyang Hua was pulled forward against his will. Wang Lin brought the fingers of his left hand together and, with a swift motion, struck the elder’s lower abdomen at a hidden pressure point.

Ouyang Hua gasped, a sharp, throbbing pain erupting from within. Beads of sweat, like glistening pearls, sprang forth upon his brow and fell to the earth.

Despite the agony, he bit back a cry. He knew that if Wang Lin intended him harm, he would not resort to such methods. The immortal’s actions were, in all likelihood, a prelude to some form of assistance.

At his age, Ouyang Hua’s power was all but fixed at the level of a single star. Further improvement was a distant, unattainable dream. Yet, now, he felt a surge of anticipation. A primal instinct told him that if he could endure this trial, the dream of transcending his limits might finally become reality.

Wang Lin maintained his position, his fingers slowly ascending Ouyang Hua’s torso. With each half-inch of progress, the elder’s pain intensified tenfold. Sweat poured from his face like a torrential rain, and his body trembled uncontrollably. His face was ashen and drained of all color.

Wang Lin’s expression remained impassive. After raising his hand three inches, he paused, his gaze locking with Ouyang Hua’s. “Endure!” he commanded.

Then, without warning, he lifted his hand, bypassing the incremental ascent and striking the elder’s forehead with a sudden, decisive blow.

A single, piercing shriek, echoing with unbearable torment, reverberated through the valley.

Ouyang Hua’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground, motionless.

Wang Lin paid him no heed, resuming his meditative posture. The valley’s inhabitants had heard the elder’s agonizing cry, but none dared to venture into the valley’s depths. The tribal laws hung over them like a Sword of Damocles.

Hours passed. Finally, Ouyang Hua’s eyes flickered open. In that instant, he was utterly transfixed. The world around him seemed transformed. The flowers were still flowers, the grass was still grass, and the walls of his village remained unchanged. Yet, to his eyes, everything was different.

A newfound understanding, a profound sense of clarity, surged within his heart. Without needing to test his abilities, he knew that he had reached the second star level. He prostrated himself before Wang Lin, his aged knees striking the ground with a resounding thud. From the depths of his soul, he bowed three times.

“Thank you, Immortal!”

The words were simple, yet they carried an immeasurable weight of gratitude, wonder, and spiritual awakening.

“Try now to unlock the secrets of the Grimoire,” Wang Lin said, nodding slightly.

Ouyang Hua immediately grasped the jade slip, pressed it to his brow, and focused his thoughts. In an instant, the incantations within flooded his mind, as if branded directly into his memory.

A tremor ran through his body. He drew a deep breath, suppressing his elation. “I see it, Disciple sees it,” he said. Unconsciously, he had altered his form of address.

Wang Lin gave a barely perceptible nod. His earlier actions, forcing open Ouyang Hua’s meridians, were an act of brutal efficiency. While they would leave lingering consequences, they were the quickest path to enlightenment.

“The incantation is called Soul Refinement. Listen carefully, for I will explain it only once. Once mastered, you shall impart it to the villagers here,” Wang Lin said, his gaze fixed upon Ouyang Hua.

Ouyang Hua’s joy knew no bounds. Each new revelation surpassed the last, like waves crashing higher and higher upon the shore.
Elation bloomed within him as his cultivation deepened, but when Yao caught sight of the jade scroll and the arcane verses it contained, his heart hammered against his ribs. A wild surmise took root in his mind, yet he dared not believe it true. For in this forsaken Demonspirit Land, true arts were rarer than phoenix tears, forever beyond the grasp of common folk.

“Immortal Sir,” Ouyang Hua breathed, his voice thick with disbelief, “Do… do you mean to impart this knowledge to me?”

Wang Lin, his expression unreadable, nodded. “Not just to you, but to all who dwell in this place.”

Ouyang Hua visibly trembled. He bowed low, his voice resonant with sincerity. “Ouyang Hua will never forget the Immortal Sir’s grace!” The words poured forth from the very depths of his soul.

For in this very land, such secrets were guarded jealously, held only by the favored few. Never in his wildest dreams had Ouyang Hua believed he would be granted such an opportunity, let alone the villagers within the hidden valley.

Wang Lin then proceeded to elucidate the finer points of the Soul Refining Art, his words like precious jewels. Ouyang Hua, as humble as a novice apprentice, absorbed every syllable, engraving them upon his heart. His gratitude towards Wang Lin swelled like a rising tide.

When the Immortal Sir had finished, Ouyang Hua performed the disciple’s rite, bowing deeply before withdrawing.

Wang Lin observed the gesture, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Then, a serene acceptance settled upon him. He had bestowed a gift, and the man responded in kind. It was only right.

Time flowed onward, a swift current carrying away three moons.

Ouyang Hua toiled with tireless zeal, dedicating nearly every waking moment to mastering the Soul Refining Art. He even quelled his tribe’s desire for raiding other settlements, immersing himself solely in this newfound power.

His innate talent, though modest, coupled with the Soul Refining Sect’s inherent ease of entry but difficulty in true mastery, allowed him to make significant progress in those three moons.

He was not alone. Under Ouyang Hua’s tutelage, the able-bodied men of the village also embraced the art, each progressing along their own unique path.

During these months, Wang Lin had devoted himself to meditation, focusing his entire being on the strange demon crystals. Through careful study, he managed to merge the two separate shards into a single entity.

Within the unified crystal, a potent, raw demonic energy swirled. From its surface, wisps of vaporous tendrils writhed and pulsed with an otherworldly, unsettling grace.

“A Three-Jia Demon Crystal,” Wang Lin murmured, his eyes gleaming with arcane light. He opened his mouth and swallowed the gem whole. As it settled within his dantian, waves of demonic power emanated outward, coursing through the network of meridians that surrounded it.

When this energy completed its first circuit, Wang Lin’s entire aura shifted. Gone was the ethereal grace of an immortal. In its place reigned a potent, unsettling demonic presence. Even his features seemed to twist and contort, acquiring a subtly sinister cast. Most striking of all were his eyes, capable of inspiring terror in all who dared to meet his gaze.

They were eyes of pure, unadulterated demonic essence! The vertical, elliptical pupils sent shivers down the spines of those who beheld them.

Wang Lin raised his right hand, clenching it lightly. A frown creased his brow.

“My body surges with demonic power,” he mused, “But alas, the quantity is insufficient. At its peak output, it only achieves a level equivalent to a Foundation Establishment cultivator…”

He stilled his thoughts. The demonic energy within his meridians instantly retreated, collapsing back into the demon crystal and concealing itself.

As the demonic power waned, his celestial essence surged forth once more. In an instant, Wang Lin’s aura transformed from something terrifying to the transcendent serenity of an immortal sage.

“This demonic power… it is intriguing,” Wang Lin said, his eyes sparkling with contemplation.

Throughout these three moons, he had emerged from his sanctuary thrice, each time to impart his wisdom on the villagers struggling to master the Soul Refining Art.

The folk within the valley now knew beyond all doubt that the art originated with Wang Lin, that it was he who had granted them this extraordinary opportunity. The initial fear and misunderstanding that had clouded their judgment were swept away by an overwhelming tide of gratitude and respect.

Each time Wang Lin stepped forth, the villagers would cease their labors and offer respectful greetings.

Among the practitioners of the Soul Refining Art, aside from the exceptionally quick Ouyang Hua, one other individual had captured Wang Lin’s attention.

It was the young man, Shi, whom Wang Lin had followed in secret, the same Shi who had first revealed the existence of the hidden valley.

The youth possessed a natural affinity for the Soul Refining Art, progressing at a remarkable pace. In a mere three months, he had already reached the third stage of the art, preparing to craft his own Soul Banner.