Daily life of a cultivation judge

For lack of a better term, corpse yin qi was considered impure or tainted yin qi, and rightfully so, given the effects it had. To use it was to defile oneself and others.

It had long been hypothesized that corpse yin qi was the amalgamation of all the negative energies of the deceased—their obsessions, frustrations, regrets, bitterness, anger, wrath, hatred, fear, and any other powerful negative emotions they held at the time of death. To absorb the corpse yin qi they produced was to take in those very emotions.

This was assumed to be one of the guiding reasons behind the unstable, bloodthirsty, and irascible nature of cultivators who used corpse qi, and why they were attacked on sight. They were regarded as no different from the toxic miasma produced by concentrated corpse yin qi.

Death yin qi, however, carried no such stigma.

Just as corpse yin qi was believed to be the manifestation of unresolved negativity, death yin qi was considered its opposite— it was an amalgamation of peace and rest. It was thought to be pure soul energy that had been cleansed of all negative attachments, much like how distilled water was considered purified water.

This was the common belief held by many regarding death yin qi. That being said, while most had positive views about it—and many likely made use of it—few would openly admit to doing so. Despite how pure it was, the bulk of death qi's origin still lay in corpse yin qi.

That said, death yin qi wasn't always formed from corpse yin qi. Anything that possessed the breath of life—whether it be humans, cultivators or not, ordinary plants and animals, spiritual beasts and herbs, sentient artifacts, or even awakened spirit veins—as long as it had life, the moment it perished, death yin qi would inevitably arise from it. Over time, this qi would gradually disintegrate and nourish its surroundings, giving rise to new life from what had been lost.

This was part of what made death yin qi so palatable to the cultivation world—it moved in accordance with the Grand Dao, cycling through destruction and life. However, despite that, not many would openly admit to using it, but at the same time, if they come across death qi, not many would resist using it either.

Some of the most precious natural treasures were known to grow in areas suffused with death yin qi. One such treasure was the Silver Cloud Soul-Nurturing Gourd, said to not only heal a soul no matter how grave the injury, but it could also help one completely reform their soul from just a wisp. It was for that reason that the gourd was colloquially given the name 'the Gourd of Rebirth.'

And it wasn't the only one. There were countless other natural treasures with remarkable attributes known to grow in places rich with pure, dense death yin qi. The White Peony of a Thousand Autumns, an inhabitant of the place, for instance, could induce a state of enlightenment lasting at least a hundred years when consumed. Or the Black Lotus, which, when refined, formed a lotus guard around the user's body that granted immunity to a thousand different kinds of poisons and soul-targeting attacks, while also strengthening the soul. The degree of enhancement depended on the black lotus's age, potency, and grade.

It wasn't just natural treasures that benefited from death yin qi. There were documented cases of cultivators gaining deeper insights into their arts and techniques through the use of death yin qi in their cultivation, or by simply cultivating in an environment rich in it.

Sadly for Yang Qing, as many benefits as death yin qi offered, and as free-spirited as he was when it came to trying new things… in this, he wasn't. Even with no witnesses around, he didn't dare use it.

Sighing lightly, Yang Qing raised his left hand, and a gentle white flame instantly appeared. Anyone who laid eyes upon it would feel a deep sense of peace, rest, and spiritual harmony.

Although Yang Qing's gaze remained calm, there was a slight heaviness in it as his moon-shaped irises fell upon the softly burning, peaceful flame in his palm.

Great Moon Harmony White Yang Flame—that was the name of the flame. And every time Yang Qing used it, he did so with the same heaviness and solemnity as when he swung the gavel in his courtroom, whether to begin a case or deliver a verdict.

It was a spell Ren Shu had made him learn, and one of the few spells Yang Qing had ever been reluctant to study, despite it being a gold-grade technique. The reason lay in its purpose.

The Great Moon Harmony White Yang Flame was meant for cremating cultivators and accelerating the cycle of death yin qi, from its initial formation down to its final disintegration. Ren Shu had called it "giving true rest to the deceased."

Despite its gentle and peaceful appearance, the flame was a bane to corpse yin qi. A single wisp of it would instantly swell into a sea of fire when introduced into an area filled with corpse yin qi. In that context, corpse yin qi was like dousing the flames with highly flammable fuel. The fire would not stop burning until every last trace of corpse yin qi had been consumed.

Yet, as ferocious as the flame was against corpse yin qi and anything related to it, it had no such effect on anything else, especially not the living. Yang Qing could douse Haishi, Bolin, and even the two sky-rank plants in it for hours, and all they would feel was a deep, soothing relaxation, likely ending with them drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

They wouldn't be burned, destroyed, or harmed in any way. And it wasn't just them—even the surroundings remained untouched when exposed to those flames.

Yang Qing sighed again and gently blew on the flame in his palm. It drifted away, gliding softly through the air, carried by his breath. As it floated off, it split apart into several smaller portions, each one shrinking further from its original orange-sized form.

But Yang Qing knew… he knew that despite their deceptively small size, within seconds of reaching their targets, those gentle sparks would erupt into flames no smaller than Haishi's body.

As he watched the embers drift away, their glow reflected in his eyes. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

He had never wanted to learn that spell. Never liked it. Because it meant dealing with the dead, some of whom he had known. Not personally, but still, they were people from the Order. Colleagues. Familiar names. Faces he had seen around.

The first time he used it on one of them, a chilling thought took root in his heart. A thought he tried to smother, but it stubbornly clung to him.

What if one day, he ended up using this spell on someone he truly knew—someone close? A classmate, a friend, whether it be a regular one or someone he thought of as family… or even actual family? Would such a day come when he'd be forced to burn them with this spell, too?

It was a thought he could never fully escape. It always came back, slithering out from the corners of his mind every time he summoned the flames.

Even now… it wasn't any different.

That mortifying thought had made him reluctant to learn or practice the spell, despite its high grade. Yet, even though he had no desire to master it, life had played a cruel joke on him.

The one spell he didn't want anything to do with… was the one he had the highest mastery over.

His command of the Great Moon Harmony White Yang Flames had already reached perfection, despite it being a gold-grade art, and despite him dragging his feet every step of the way.

From the moment he laid eyes on it, he had been doomed. The essence of the spell aligned with his own perfectly. His bond with it was no different from that of a spiritual plant or a spirit beast with their innate abilities.

He may not have wanted to learn it, but the instant he looked upon it, his body, soul, spirit, and essence all responded at once. They harmonized with it so completely that the spell imprinted itself onto him from that very first glance. His body understood it. His soul recognized it. His spirit resonated with it. His essence merged with it.

Him trying not to learn it was like trying to forget how to breathe.