Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 66: Kidney Temple — Refine!

Around midday.

Inside the main hall of the Pure Immortal Temple.

Chen Huangpi sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, while behind him stood his master — now sporting two heads. And behind his master, mounted on the wall directly facing them, were three painted portraits of a Daoist priest.

Originally, that wall had been reserved for housing deities.

But after his master went mad, he had driven the deities out — and then hung three portraits of himself in their place.

Cyan on the left, white on the right, purple in the center.

Arranged in order of seniority.

The Pure Immortal Temple held strictly to such things.

Guanzhu cared about these things. So did Chen Huangpi. And so did the brass oil lamp.

Right now the lamp perched on the high threshold of the main hall, with the Fox Mountain God on its left and the Life-reaping Ghost on its right."Do any of you feel like something is a little off about those three portraits of Guanzhu?"

"What's off about them?"

"I can't quite put it into words — but something is off."

That was the Fox Mountain God speaking.

It had an unshakeable feeling that Guanzhu's painted eyes, across all three portraits, were watching it.

The longer it looked, the more uncomfortable it grew.

The brass oil lamp gave the three paintings a brief glance and felt nothing at all.

Those portraits had been hanging there for who knew how many years — sometimes they were even placed on the offering table. It was thoroughly accustomed to them. What could there possibly be wrong?

"Little fox — your soul has been badly damaged. Being jumpy and anxious is perfectly normal."

"Is that really all it is?"

"What else? Are you saying your spirit sense is sharper than mine?"

"...Fair point."

The Fox Mountain God remained half-convinced.

Ever since it had lost half its soul, it often felt a dull ache in its head. Its memory had also suffered greatly. Though something felt wrong, if the brass oil lamp said so, then it must be an illusion on its part.

At this moment, the Life-reaping Ghost suddenly spoke: "Huang Er, a branch is coming out of the contract-holder's ear again. Can he truly subdue the Demon Tree?"

"Who knows whether he can. He's too strange — stranger even than the Demon Tree."

The brass oil lamp watched Chen Huangpi with some concern.

It could feel a heavily yin, malicious energy radiating from Chen Huangpi's body. Threaded through it was a wisp of vitality — and a thread of unbridled, crazed intent.

The Demon Tree's aura.

It was daytime now — entering the Old Temple required waiting until night.

So in the meantime, Chen Huangpi had asked the three of them to stand guard here while he attempted to subdue the Demon Tree sealed within the Kidney Temple.

At this moment, from Chen Huangpi's two ears, one dried branch each was slowly poking out. The same from his nostrils. The branches seemed to push through every opening — at first glance it was profoundly unsettling, as if the Demon Tree had possessed him from within.

Chen Huangpi turned his awareness inward.

The Kidney Temple, pulsing like a living organ, had replaced his two kidneys. Its walls were covered in sinew and flesh, twitching and contracting at intervals.

Above and to the right of the Kidney Temple was where his liver sat. Fine threads of yellow-green essence energy sprouted from the liver, circulating day and night, steadily building what would become the Liver Temple.

But just as it had been at the beginning when the Kidney Temple was being forged — this essence energy was incredibly faint.

Who knew how long before the Liver Temple's outline would take shape.

Chen Huangpi mused to himself: 'The God-Burying Mound, the Yellow Springs, the Yin Lands — all of them are enormously dangerous. The Liver Temple's essence energy will be useless in the short term.'

The Five Viscera Spirit Refining Art was extraordinary.

Kidneys corresponded to water;

liver to wood;

heart to fire;

spleen to earth;

lungs to metal.

The five elements in endless cycles — generating and overcoming one another.

Each time an organ temple was forged, the corresponding organ would vanish along with all its refined essence energy.

But Chen Huangpi was unwilling to accept that.

He could accept losing two kidneys. He could accept losing all the essence energy he had painstakingly cultivated to such abundance.

What he could not accept was this: after going to the effort of forging the Kidney Temple and sealing a Calamity-class evil spirit like the Demon Tree inside it — his own strength had somehow been weakened in the process.

Someone who didn't know any better might think the Kidney Temple was suppressing him, not the Demon Tree.

So he turned over what his master had once told him.

If you invite a wood-element entity into a water-element Kidney Temple, the Demon Tree will develop a rebellious temperament. It must be subjected to blows. It must be beaten into submission.

With that, Chen Huangpi fixed his gaze on the gates of the Kidney Temple.

Then — his own figure appeared at the gates.

This was his mind-self, his projected awareness.

The two great doors were shut fast, without a crack between them.

Not even black smoke could seep through from inside.

Sound, however, could.

Rustle, rustle, rustle… as if the Demon Tree's body was shaking.

Scritch, scritch, scritch… as if its branches were scratching the walls.

Something occurred to Chen Huangpi: "Water gives birth to wood — the Demon Tree must be living quite comfortably in the Kidney Temple."

But there was nothing to be done about that now.

Whether he could subdue the Demon Tree — it all came down to how hard his fists were.

With that, he pushed open the temple gates.

The moment they swung open — he was met with a boundless, serene darkness, still as a mirror.

That was the black smoke condensed solid.

Now that the Kidney Temple was complete, the black smoke seemed no longer active. Even with the gates open, it didn't pour out. As if dead.

Chen Huangpi walked inside. The temple doors closed behind him on their own.

In an instant, the scene before him shifted entirely.

The space around him was stretching outward.

The darkness receded.

The main hall of the Kidney Temple looked remarkably similar to the main hall of the Pure Immortal Temple — except that on the left and right were two high-arching side chambers.

Countless pitch-black chains were rooted within those two side chambers, and their other ends were bound around the Demon Tree.

The Demon Tree's body was enormous. Even without its canopy — what remained, just the branches assembled together, was enough to blot out the sky. Its trunk was correspondingly immense, like a world-pillar tree.

But the Demon Tree, at this moment, was in a wretched state. The black chains from the left and right side chambers had pulled taut and fixed it firmly to the sacrificial altar at the center of the hall. Countless black chains had been driven into the Demon Tree's body, locking down its roots and binding its branches — and the chains were alive. The pain was driving it near-mad.

But the harder it struggled, the tighter the chains pulled.

And the more intense the pain became.

Chen Huangpi took in this scene and felt something click into place.

The chains were formed from black smoke. They were draining the Demon Tree's power — and at the same time pumping black smoke back into it, nurturing it as they drew from it. Making it more terrifying.

Chen Huangpi looked down at his own fists.

Then looked up at the Demon Tree — its murderous energy blazing like a furnace in its captivity.

He immediately lowered his fists and said: "Demon Tree, I know I've locked you inside the Kidney Temple — and I'll admit, the accommodations aren't exactly comfortable. But I am a reasonable person."

"You and I have no old grudge, no fresh enmity. We'll be sharing the same roof from here on. Why make things so tense between us?"

"Here's my proposal: I'll make the decision. Hand your power over to me."

"I'll put it to good use. I won't embarrass you."

The branches already growing out of Chen Huangpi's own body were precisely the Demon Tree's power being drawn by the Kidney Temple and reflected back to him. But the Demon Tree was still resisting — the power it was giving up came out only in thin trickles.

It was calm. It still had enough reason to hold the line.

Chen Huangpi grew anxious: "I'll treat you well."

No response from the Demon Tree.

Chen Huangpi raised the stakes: "I'm very good at tending trees."

The Demon Tree's body gave a single tremor.

Chen Huangpi pressed on with sincerity: "I'll water you every day from now on."

The Demon Tree went utterly still.

But just as Chen Huangpi was about to give up —

The Demon Tree's stillness snapped without warning.

Crack. Rustle.

As if a rainstorm had broken over the hall all at once.

The Demon Tree's endless coiling branches crashed and thrashed. Its whole body shook in wild frenzy.

It had been provoked.

Provoked to madness — it wanted to descend from that altar right now.

It wanted to kill Chen Huangpi.

Even if the chains tore it apart into ten thousand pieces in the process — it still wanted to do it.

Planting trees. Watering.

Just hearing those two things — the Demon Tree's reason, which had been holding on through the agony of its chains and holding its ground against the steady drain on its power, collapsed all at once like an avalanche. Impossible to stop.

Every Human Fruit hanging from those branches snapped its eyes open and stared at Chen Huangpi.

The Human Fruits were both independent beings and extensions of the Demon Tree's will. In every single face was naked ferocity, madness — and hatred so thick it could not be dissolved.

The Demon Tree's murderous energy surged to the top of the hall.

Chen Huangpi looked baffled, and asked sincerely: "Demon Tree — are you agreeing, or not?"

He hadn't thought it had agreed.

But — he clearly felt the Demon Tree's power being yanked out by the black-smoke chains at frantic speed.

Not like before — trickle by trickle.

This was like a flood gate thrown open.

And just in this brief moment — the power accumulating in him had already reached half of what his essence energy had been at its most abundant.

Chen Huangpi mused to himself: 'Master said the Demon Tree would turn rebellious and need to be beaten into submission. But the Demon Tree is clearly reasonable.'

'Master is getting old. He just recites what's written without thinking. Not like me — I understand that taking the classics on faith is worth less than having no classics at all.'

With that thought, something occurred to him.

"Come!"

Chen Huangpi pointed, and a branch appeared in the empty air.

It wasn't thick — only about as wide as his arm — but it was a full ten zhang long, like a whip.

The moment it appeared, it followed Chen Huangpi's will and cracked out with force.

BOOM.

The air itself split from the impact.

This was the Demon Tree's power — its own branch weaponized.

"This shouldn't be all there is!"

Chen Huangpi suddenly pressed two fingers together.

The branch swept forward and unleashed a blade of overwhelmingly fierce sword qi.

The sword qi was a joyless, lifeless grey.

This was the Grand Duke Demon Slaying technique.

Now channeled through the Demon Tree's power — it had turned sinister.

Slay demons. Purge evil. — the sword intent.

Malice and savagery. — the sword qi itself.

And both were stronger than ever before.

Chen Huangpi was overjoyed: "My power is really something now — thank you, Demon Tree. I'm leaving. But don't worry — I'll keep my word. Tonight before I go into the Old Temple, I'll definitely come and water you."

He finished — and disappeared from the Kidney Temple.

The moment he was gone, the main hall of the Kidney Temple changed its appearance entirely.

The two side chambers became flesh and blood — like living organs — and those black chains rooted in the Demon Tree kept throbbing in time with them, drawing out its power with each pulse.

The Demon Tree's body grew parched and hollow.

The pain was driving it beyond madness, shaking without end.

Yet even as its power was drawn away, more black smoke poured into it from the other side, pressing through every crack in its form.

It was being remade.

And to stop the process, it had to stay lucid.

But — the moment the Demon Tree thought of Chen Huangpi coming to water it tonight — the hatred burned fresh in its mind. The memory of being watered day and night for hundreds of years until it drowned to death completely obliterated its reason.

Every Human Fruit opened its mouth wide.

"Chen Huangpi — may you die without leaving a whole corpse!"

The Demon Tree, speaking through the Human Fruits, let out a wail of anguish, every word wrung from the depths of its suffering, every syllable soaked in boundless hatred.