12: Chapter 12 Qi Refining

Inside the cave, Jiang Yan sat cross-legged.

The stone was very cold. Through his clothing, that chill crept up from his thighs, as if he had sat into a pool of cold water. Jiang Yan did not move.

The difference between the Qi Induction Stage and the Qi Refinement Stage, in the simplest terms—Qi Induction is borrowed power, while Qi Refining is one's own power.

Spiritual Qi is energy wandering between heaven and earth; it is inhaled into the Dantian, stored, and then drawn out when needed.

It is like pouring water into a leather bag; the water is water, the bag is the bag, always two separate things.

Spiritual power is different.

Spiritual power is what Spiritual Qi transforms into after being "ignited."

It is no longer an external object, but an existence that has fused with one's flesh, Meridians, and Divine Soul.

If Spiritual Qi is water, the Qi Induction Stage is digging a pool on the ground to catch rainwater.

The Qi Refinement Stage is boiling the water in the pool into steam.

The steam fills the entire space, ubiquitous and ready to be used at any time.

Jiang Yan closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his Dantian.

The dark red ring formed by thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi was rotating slowly.

After Perfection, this ring was much more stable than before—each stream of Spiritual Qi moved along a fixed orbit, with uniform spacing and constant speed.

The dark red light reflected on the inner walls of the Dantian, dyeing the entire Dantian a faint blood color.

The first step was compression.

Jiang Yan's consciousness wrapped around the entire ring, applying pressure inward from all directions simultaneously.

Under the pressure, the thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi began to draw closer, the gaps between them shrinking inch by inch.

The rotation speed of the vortex increased as a result—not because he actively accelerated it, but as a natural reaction to the compression, much like how when an ice surface shrinks, the water flow beneath it becomes more rapid.

The process of compression required extremely precise control.

If the force was too great, the Spiritual Qi would become chaotic or even explode; damaging one's Dantian was nothing to joke about.

If the force was too small, the efficiency would be low, and it might take ten days or half a month to compress it properly.

Jiang Yan had three hundred years of experience from his previous life. Control over Spiritual Qi had long since been engraved into his instincts.

His consciousness was like an invisible hand, tightening without haste.

Under his control, the thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi obediently drew closer without a hint of disorder.

The color of the vortex gradually shifted from dark red to deep red. It was like blood being boiled.

The first day passed.

The light outside the cave shifted from bright to dim yellow, then from dim yellow to gray-white. The stream kept making noise.

The second step was ignition.

When the Spiritual Qi was compressed to its limit—the gaps between the thirty-six streams almost disappeared, and the entire vortex became a dense, airtight deep red gas mass—Jiang Yan began to condense a point of "True Intent" at the center of the vortex.

This thing called "True Intent" sounded mysterious. In reality, it was just a wisp of something produced by the combination of a Cultivator's own will and life energy.

It was not fire, not light, but "I." It was the fundamental point of why a Cultivator is a Cultivator.

In the center of the Dantian, a glimmer of light ignited.

Like the first star in the deep night. Tiny, but clear.

Then that glimmer of light exploded suddenly.

It was not burning, not an explosion.

Rather, it was a deeper change—the moment the thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi touched that point of True Intent, they transformed from a gaseous state into another form.

The transformation began at the center of the vortex and spread outward layer by layer.

The transformed Spiritual Qi was no longer a hazy mist, but had become a clear, agile energy.

The color also faded from deep red to pale red, almost transparent.

A warmth came from within the Dantian.

It was not scorching, not scalding, but warm. Like soaking in a spring with just the right temperature.

That warmth seeped out from the Dantian, penetrating into the Meridians, seeping into the flesh and blood, and into the gaps between the bones. His entire body was soaked through by this warmth.

The second day passed.

A light rain fell outside the cave. The stream rose, the current became rapid, and it crashed against the giant rocks, kicking up higher splashes.

The sound of the water changed from a gurgle to a roar. The rain beat down on the mountain forest, and the leaves rattled with a pattering sound.

Jiang Yan was completely unaware.

The process of transformation was still continuing. More than half of the thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi had already been transformed, and the pale red nebula within the Dantian was becoming brighter and denser.

The remaining Spiritual Qi was still rotating in the outermost layer, waiting to be ignited by the True Intent.

The dusk of the third day.

The last wisp of Spiritual Qi had finished transforming.

Inside the Dantian, thirty-six streams of Spiritual power had replaced the original thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi.

They no longer formed a ring, but were like a pale red nebula, diffusing throughout the entire Dantian, flowing slowly and merging with one another.

The quantity had not increased—thirty-six streams of Spiritual Qi had become thirty-six wisps of Spiritual power, with an equivalent total amount. But the quality was completely different.

Spiritual Qi was mist, Spiritual power was light. Mist disappeared when it dispersed, but light could shine outward.

Qi Refining Stage 1.

Jiang Yan opened his eyes.

The light inside the cave was dim, but in his eyes, it was as clear as day.

Every texture on the rock wall was visible in minute detail—the gullies washed out by the water, the small holes formed by weathering, and the cracks hidden beneath the stone skin.

He did not get up, but directly raised his right hand. With a slight movement of his consciousness, a wisp of Spiritual power surged out from his Dantian, flowing along the three Yin Meridians of the hand toward his fingertips.

The sensation of Spiritual power flowing was completely different from Spiritual Qi—Spiritual Qi surged, like water flowing in a channel; Spiritual power permeated, like light passing through glass. His Meridians could feel almost no resistance.

The moment the Spiritual power reached his fingertips, Jiang Yan uttered a low syllable.

It was not a language, it was a Spell.

Fireball Technique.

The most basic offensive Spell in the cultivation world, which could be cast at Qi Refining Stage 1.

Spiritual power lit up in sequence on specific Meridian nodes at his fingertips—Shaoshang, Yuji, Laogong—the three nodes formed a simple Spell structure.

Within this structure, the Spiritual power was compressed, heated, and its properties transformed.

Then, a point of flame ignited on the tip of his index finger.

It was the size of a thumbnail. Orange-red. It hovered quietly about half an inch above his fingertip.

The color of the flame was not the orange-yellow of ordinary firewood, but carried a hint of pale cyan-white—that was the characteristic of burning Spiritual power.

The temperature inside the cave did not change significantly, but the air around the flame was slightly distorted, like heat waves on an asphalt road in midsummer.

Jiang Yan flicked his finger.

The Fireball flew from his fingertip, carving an orange-red trajectory, and struck the cave wall three steps away.

With a soft "puff" sound, the flame exploded on the stone wall, sparks flying everywhere.

The surface of the stone was burned into a shallow pit the size of a fist, the bottom of the pit scorched black, the edges slightly melted, and after cooling, it formed a ring of glassy, smooth surface layer.

The Black-maned Horse was startled by the sound. It stomped restlessly in the corner for a few steps, its horseshoes making a crisp sound as they struck the rock, and it snorted two puffs of rough air from its nostrils.

It only calmed down after a good while.

Jiang Yan looked at the shallow pit; the flame on his finger had already extinguished.

The power of the Fireball Technique was weaker than he had expected.

It was not because of the Spell itself—although the Fireball Technique was low-level, it had the advantage of being stable, and the conversion efficiency of Spiritual power was high.

It was weak because the Spiritual power within his body was not yet sufficiently condensed.

Having just completed the transformation, the Spiritual power was still a bit airy and needed a few days to settle.

However, being able to use the Fireball Technique already proved one thing.

He had officially stepped into the ranks of Cultivators.

Jiang Yan stood up and stretched his stiff neck.

His neck bones made a slight clicking sound, like stepping on a bunch of dry twigs.

Next was testing his Divine Sense.

At Qi Refining Stage 1, his Divine Sense was very weak and could only cover about one zhang around him.

But this was a watershed—with Divine Sense, a Cultivator gained an extra pair of invisible eyes.

It was not "seeing," it was "sensing."

In the places where his Divine Sense swept, the contours, textures, temperatures, and even weak energy fluctuations of all things would be directly reflected in his mind.

Jiang Yan closed his eyes and spread his consciousness outward.

One zhang.

The rock beneath him was the first to be sensed. It was not smooth—the surface had fine textures, small holes formed by weathering, and several cracks invisible to the naked eye were hidden beneath the stone skin.

In a crevice of the rock, there was an ant, its antennae probing the path.

Its six legs moved alternately, its tiny footsteps clearly transmitted through his Divine Sense; the position, force, and time interval of each leg landing were precise to the slightest detail.

Three feet behind him, the breathing and heartbeat of the Black-maned Horse.

The heartbeat was steady, about forty beats per minute, each contraction pumping blood to its limbs.

The horse flicked its tail, the trajectory of the tip of the tail sweeping through the air tracing an arc in his Divine Sense.

At the cave entrance, a drop of dew had condensed on a vine. The dew was slowly growing, surface tension supporting a perfect curved surface.

A small flying insect landed next to the dewdrop, its six legs probing as it walked two steps on the vine leaf, its antennae swaying up and down.

All this information flooded into his mind simultaneously. There was no need to deliberately distinguish it; he understood it naturally.

Jiang Yan withdrew his Divine Sense and raised his right hand again.

This time, he was testing the combination of Spiritual power and Divine Sense.

A wisp of Spiritual power was drawn from the Dantian; as it flowed through the Meridians, his Divine Sense attached to it.

Spiritual power itself was intangible energy, but under the guidance of Divine Sense, it could be molded into a concrete form and run along a specific trajectory.

He made that wisp of Spiritual power condense in his palm, his Divine Sense simultaneously molding its form.

The Spiritual power gathered, compressed, and elongated above his palm.

A moment later, a small, pale red sword composed entirely of Spiritual power hovered above his palm.

The sword was no more than three inches long, as thin as a willow leaf, its edges slightly fluctuating—it was not yet stable enough.

Jiang Yan steadied his Divine Sense, further compressing the structure of the sword body.

The fluctuating edges gradually became clear and sharp, and several faint lines even appeared on the sword body; these were energy patterns naturally formed by the Spiritual power under high pressure.

He flipped his palm and pushed.

The small Spiritual sword shot out silently, piercing into the stone wall.

There was no explosion, no stone debris.

The sword body sank into the stone like a hot knife cutting into butter, leaving only a narrow gap.

A moment later, a muffled sound came from deep within the gap—the stress inside the stone wall had been detonated by the Spiritual power.

A series of fine cracking sounds came from inside the rock, like ice cubes cracking in warm water.

Jiang Yan withdrew his hand and looked down at his palm.

He evaluated his current strength.

Qi Refining Stage 1, equivalent to an Early Xiantian Martial Artist.

But with the combat experience from his previous life, even against an Xiantian Perfection, as long as he was given some time to accumulate means, killing across ranks would not be a difficult task.

Of course, the prerequisite was being prepared.

In a direct confrontation, between Qi Refining Stage 1 and Xiantian Perfection, the gap in the quality of Spiritual power was an objective reality.

The Internal Energy of an Xiantian Perfection Martial Artist had already been condensed to the limit; a single palm strike could penetrate a three-foot-thick stone wall.

He needed a Magical Artifact.

Or rather, he needed a trump card.