Returning after 10000 Years Cultivation - Chapter 100
This Mídiéxiāng (Rosemary Incense) was originally invented by the Ming Dynasty master Liu Bowen. A single stick of this incense once helped Zhu Yuanzhang poison over ten thousand elite soldiers of Chen Youliang’s forces, earning it the infamous reputation: “One whiff, and you topple from your horse!”
It was especially effective against martial artists. Once inhaled, the victim’s body would turn weak and limp, their inner energy and breath impossible to summon—leaving them utterly defenseless, like lambs to the slaughter.
As for the Duànchángcǎo Gōuchá (Heartbreak Hook Tea), it was created by Fuxi, the progenitor revered by the Shennong Sect. Back when he tasted hundreds of herbs to discover their medicinal properties, he ultimately met his end after mistakenly consuming this very tea.
This poison was so potent it could even kill the sages of antiquity. It was said to have no antidote whatsoever.
Recalling this, he tried to circulate his inner energy—only to find his blood flow sluggish, his breath stagnant. Cold sweat broke out as panic set in, and a despairing wail echoed in his heart: “I’m finished! I’m done for!”
“By now, the poison should have taken effect.”
Bu Suanzi looked at Jiang Tian with disdain, as if he were an idiot, and sneered:
“Even if we weren’t here, a mere three-year-old could knock him over with a single finger!”
At that moment, Tang Linglong was the first to feel her body go weak. She collapsed onto the ground, followed closely by Qiu Gong.
“Haha! Down they go! The Shennong Sect’s poisons are truly formidable!”
Niu Bowen, Chen Bo, and the others burst into applause, cheering triumphantly.
“Heh, you call this poison? To me, it’s no different than candy.”
Jiang Tian’s expression didn’t even flicker. With a flick of his right hand, three detoxification pills flew into the mouths of Qiu Gong and the others.
Having lived for ten thousand years among the stars, there was no danger he hadn’t faced.
Over countless millennia, he had ventured into death zones, demonic mountains, and toxic seas—places where miasma and venom saturated the air, where poisonous creatures roamed freely. Those were the most toxic places in existence.
Compared to the poisons of those cursed lands, Bu Suanzi’s toxins were utterly insignificant.
“Arrogant fool! A worthless trash like you dares to look down on the Shennong Sect’s lethal poisons? I’ll take your wretched life first!”
Niu Bowen let out a strange cry and charged at Jiang Tian, eager to claim the first strike.
He wanted to secure the credit for himself—killing Jiang Tian would surely earn him an extra pill or two.
Originally, he had been somewhat afraid of Jiang Tian after witnessing him kill Tang Qianbian. But now that Jiang Tian was poisoned, with the toxins taking effect any second, what was there to fear?
He unleashed his Pigua Quan (Hanging Fist) with full force.
“Pi—to split, to break open; Gua—the Eight Trigrams, created by Fuxi.”
His fists descended like golden axes, unstoppable as a cleaver through bamboo. His strikes and kicks surged like flames, erupting from the earth like golden springs!
His mastery of Pigua Quan had reached perfection. Any martial artist who witnessed it would revere him as a god, sighing in awe at their own inferiority.
After a dazzling flurry of movements, all his techniques condensed into a single straight punch—like a cannon firing, the air shrieking as his fist exploded forward with the fury of a dragon bursting from the sea.
“This punch will surely kill him on the spot!”
Niu Bowen’s eyes bulged grotesquely, his face twisted with savage confidence.
“Tch, Niu Bowen stole the initiative.”
“Even Elder Bu said a three-year-old could knock him down—why didn’t I go?”
Chen Bo stamped his feet in regret. The other martial artists shared the same sentiment.
Meanwhile, Hong Tianzhao and Bu Suanzi had already sat down, sipping tea and cracking melon seeds, too lazy to even watch.
But what happened next stunned everyone.
Boom!
When Niu Bowen’s fist struck, a golden barrier shimmered around Jiang Tian’s body. The impact sounded like a massive bell being struck, the resonance deafening.
“How is this possible?!”
Niu Bowen staggered back, his face a mask of shock as he stared at Jiang Tian.
“Heh, you call this fist technique? Pathetic.”
Jiang Tian chuckled softly—then casually threw a punch of his own.
This punch seemed utterly ordinary, simple and unadorned, as if a child were playing around.
Yet it was the Pishan Quan (Mountain-Splitting Fist) from the Eighteen Immortal Combat Forms.
Now at the peak of Qi Refinement Stage Two, Jiang Tian’s punch could shatter a boulder weighing tens of thousands of jun.
“Old Niu, dodge!” Bu Suanzi, Hong Tianzhao, and Lady Mange shouted in unison.
Niu Bowen felt a hurricane-force gale slam into him. The punch carried the weight of a mountain, crushing and unstoppable—as if it could shatter rivers and peaks. His instincts screamed in alarm.
“Iron Body Refinement Technique!”
With a shrill cry, Niu Bowen activated his defensive skill. His veins bulged, muscles swelling to their limits.
“Pigua Quan excels in both offense and defense. To think Old Niu has mastered the Iron Body Refinement Technique—he could even withstand a strike from a Transcendent Realm expert!” Bu Suanzi murmured in admiration.
“Jiang Tian is strong, but he’s poisoned. His strength must be waning—he shouldn’t be able to harm Niu Bowen.” Hong Tianzhao gradually calmed, reassured.
Boom!
An invisible fist-force blasted into Niu Bowen’s chest.
He felt as if he’d been hit by a high-speed train.
“Aaaargh—!”
With a blood-curdling scream, Niu Bowen was sent flying. He crashed into a stone table, flipping it over. When he landed, his chest was caved in, his body a mangled mess of blood and torn flesh.
“So… strong…”
Niu Bowen spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with organ fragments—then died on the spot.
Jiang Tian’s punch had turned his internal organs to paste. There was no chance of survival.
“Stop wasting my time. Come at me together—I still need to hurry back and make soup for my wife.”
With two kills in mere moments—one a Pigua Quan master at the peak of Iron Body, the other Tang Sect’s Third Young Master, famed for his lightness skills and hidden weapons—Jiang Tian acted as casually as swatting flies.
His mind was preoccupied with the far more important matter of returning to Linzhou to cook for his beloved wife.
“You arrogant brat!”
Hong Tianzhao’s face twisted in fury. He slammed the table to splinters and roared:
“How is he unaffected by both poisons? This defies reason!” Bu Suanzi’s expression darkened for the first time.
Five minutes had passed—the toxins should have taken effect long ago. Yet Jiang Tian had just killed two men effortlessly. Unease gnawed at Bu Suanzi’s heart.
“As he wishes—everyone, attack together!”
Lady Mange’s face flickered through several emotions before she smiled sweetly. “Whoever kills Jiang Tian will receive all his pills and be honored as a VIP by the Shennong Sect, entitled to twenty top-grade pills!”
“Kill him!”
“No need for honor against this arrogant fool—attack as one!”
Her words were like pouring oil on fire. The mountaintop erupted in frenzy.
With such rewards at stake, even those who had hesitated now charged without reservation. The promise of Jiang Tian’s pills alone was tempting, but becoming a Shennong Sect VIP with access to their treasures? That was worth billions.
Dozens of martial artists surged forward—seven or eight at the Inner Energy level, the rest at least at Iron Body mastery.
Among them were elite Shennong Sect disciples, Hong family experts, and warriors from across the land who’d been swayed by Shen Mange’s persuasion.
The thunder of footsteps shook the ground. Battle cries pierced the sky. Blades and swords flashed like a deadly storm, their collective killing intent soaring into the heavens.
The scene was so terrifying that even a seasoned Transcendent Realm master would hesitate before facing it head-on.
“Haha, finally! I really do need to get back to cooking for my wife.”
Jiang Tian wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled forward with utter calm.
Swoosh!
A golden-backed Guǐtóu Dāo (Ghost-Head Saber) came cleaving down at Jiang Tian’s skull like a falling mountain.
The attacker was the young master of the Luoyang Golden Saber Clan, a saber master at the Inner Energy level.
Leaping high, he channeled his momentum into the blade, its edge gleaming coldly—reflecting his twisted, murderous face. He aimed to split Jiang Tian in half.
Jiang Tian merely flicked a finger.
Clang!
The saber was sent flying into the sky.
Then—smack!—Jiang Tian backhanded the young master’s head like a rotten watermelon. Brains and blood sprayed in all directions.
Before the corpse even hit the ground, Jiang Tian pointed at a black-clad fighter.
Zip!
A streak of Qi shot out like lightning.
The man’s forehead sprouted a bloody hole. He collapsed, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Heh, is this all you’ve got? How disappointing.”
Jiang Tian strolled forward leisurely, killing as effortlessly as crushing ants.
Clang! A sword slashed down.
In a flash, Jiang Tian sidestepped, seized the attacker’s neck—crack!—then snatched the gleaming blade midair.
“Let me show you how to use a sword.”
He swung horizontally.
The blade light burst like a shattered silver vase, water exploding forth.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Five heads soared into the air. Bodies toppled.
“Use your real techniques—or this won’t even be fun.”
Jiang Tian’s gaze swept over the pale-faced crowd, his eyes icy and indifferent.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Over a dozen fighters swarmed him, weapons raised—spears, staffs, sabers, swords, meteor hammers, chain whips, even xuèdīzǐ (flying guillotines).
Swiish!
Jiang Tian’s sword swept out in a wide arc.
A razor-sharp sword aura, over eight meters long, cleaved through the air like death itself.
“Aaaah—!”
Screams erupted. Seven or eight men were bisected at the waist.
Blood fountained. Entrails spilled. The stench of death was overwhelming.
“Is he a demon?! How can he be this strong?!”
“Over a dozen experts couldn’t stop him… Terrifying!”
“Elder… do the Shennong Sect’s poisons not work on him?!”
The survivors trembled, stumbling back in horror. Their faces were ghostly pale, as if staring at a god of slaughter.
“Well? Come fight!”
Jiang Tian stood in a pool of blood, gazing at them in disappointment. But none dared step forward.
Thud! Thud!
The remaining fighters dropped their weapons, kneeling and kowtowing frantically.
“Grandmaster Jiang, we were deceived by Shen Mange and Hong Tianzhao! We never meant to challenge you!”
“Spare us! We’ll serve as your dogs—just say the word, and we’ll brave fire and water for you!”
They cowered like quails, some even on the verge of tears, groveling for mercy.
“Insignificant ants like you aren’t fit to be my dogs. You overestimate yourselves.”
Jiang Tian smirked coldly. “Stay on your knees. Move, and you die.”
In less than a minute, Jiang Tian had slaughtered over twenty martial artists as easily as chopping vegetables. The remaining experts knelt in submission, utterly broken.
Only Bu Suanzi, Hong Tianzhao, and Shen Mange remained standing—frozen in shock.
Silence.
Deafening silence.
Jiang Tian stood relaxed, facing the ashen-faced trio. A lazy, mocking smile curled his lips as he asked:
“Do you regret setting up this trap now?”
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