6: First time cultivating

[Ding!]

The familiar, mechanical notification sound rang out without warning deep within his consciousness.

[Today's Intelligence (Geographical): Three li west of the village, the stream formed beneath the sheer cliff and waterfall, having eroded strangely shaped rocks over the years, has formed a natural foundation capable of gathering Moon Essence. If a water-aligned Cultivation Technique is operated upon the cyan stone in the stream tonight at midnight, the efficiency of drawing in Qi can be increased by thirty percent.]

Li Qinghe's eyes instantly lit up! A Cultivation location! This System... is too thoughtful!

The small stream west of the village? He remembered that stream; the water flowed rapidly, carving out a sizable deep pool beneath the sheer cliff, where water vapor perpetually lingered.

Gathering Moon Essence? Increasing the efficiency of drawing in Qi? He had just received the Cultivation Technique last night, and today's intelligence precisely pushed this location suitable for him to Cultivate—what else could it be but tailor-made!

As for this piece of dark wood? He rubbed the black piece of wood beneath the mat on the heated brick bed.

This object, even in the Immortal Realm, was likely not common goods. A centuries-old dark wood heart... having endured countless years of incense power of will... no wonder it could serve as a special carrier for a Cultivation Technique.

How could ordinary paper or bamboo slips withstand the dual erosion of time and the circulation of spiritual energy?

Only this kind of wondrous wood, deeply buried in underwater silt, nourished by cold Yin energy, and possessing dense, tough quality, could preserve the ancestral methods in such a peculiar way, quietly awaiting the destined person to activate them.

This piece of the Family Genealogy itself was a rare treasure!

The day became extraordinarily long.

Li Qinghe seemed reborn, like a changed person, eagerly helping his mother, Madam Zhang, with light chores: sweeping the courtyard, feeding the chicks, and tidying the firewood.

He was quick and nimble, his eyes clear. Seeing this both comforted Madam Zhang and brought a twinge of sadness to her heart. She only thought that the child had become enlightened after falling into the water, and Heaven had shown mercy.

Father Li Dashan remained silent as a mountain, but the back carrying the hoe to the field seemed a little straighter.

In the occasional glances he cast toward Li Qinghe, the cautious unease faded, replaced by the simple approval of a farmer—the family finally had a young man who could lend a hand.

After finally enduring until nightfall descended once more, Li Qinghe used the excuse of having slept too much during the day and retreated early to his room.

He carefully wrapped the dark wood heart obtained from the main beam in a piece of rag, tucked it into his bosom, and then waited patiently.

The night was deep, and all sounds were hushed.

Darkness once again became his loyal cover.

This time, his movements were like a civet cat's, and he slipped out of the house with increased proficiency, using the clear moonlight to stride rapidly toward the west side of the village.

On the late-night field path, insects chirped and frogs croaked, and the night wind rustled the crop leaves.

Three li was not far; soon, he heard the rushing sound of water.

The sheer cliff waterfall, like a silver river hanging down in the moonlight, roared as it crashed into the deep pool below, splashing up fine mist that refracted a hazy halo in the moonlight.

The pool water overflowed, forming a swift stream that rushed toward the distance.

The stream water was icy to the touch and crystal clear, with Moon Essence flowing upon it, appearing like scattered gold specks.

Following the direction indicated by the intelligence, Li Qinghe traveled downstream along the creek for a short distance and indeed found a shallow area where the current was slightly slower.

In the middle of the shallows, a cyan stone the size of a millstone, with a surface smooth as a mirror, was half-submerged. The bright moonlight poured onto it without obstruction, the clear radiance flowing like a physical substance.

This is the place!

He took a deep breath of the moisture-laden air, tossed off his worn straw sandals, and stepped barefoot into the stream.

The icy stream water instantly wrapped around his ankles, making him shiver. He climbed onto the smooth cyan stone and sat cross-legged.

The Moon Essence poured down like mercury, submerging him and the cyan stone beneath him.

The mist from the waterfall, carrying the freshness of grass, wood, and soil, rushed toward his face. The ceaseless roar of the water was the grandest symphony between Heaven and earth.

He slowly closed his eyes and discarded distracting thoughts.

The hundreds of runes from last night, flowing with a faint blue moonlight halo, clearly surfaced in his Sea of Consciousness.

[Autumn Moon River Qi Nurturing Art]

[Moon Essence is like water; Guiding Qi into the Body. Focus on the Dantian, as if embracing the bright moon. Observe the rushing of rivers, feel the ebb and flow of tides...]

He tried to empty his mind, no longer intentionally thinking about the words, but instead focusing on feeling.

Feeling the coolness of the moonlight, feeling the solidity of the cyan stone beneath him, and feeling the omnipresent flowing water vapor and rushing water sounds around him.

Imagining himself sitting in the center of a great river, embracing a radiant bright moon.

From the location of the Dantian—deep in his lower abdomen—a faint, elusive warmth seemed to emanate.

He tried hard to capture this feeling. Unconsciously, his breathing began to become long and slow, carrying a peculiar rhythm, seemingly aligning with the flowing tempo of the stream beneath him.

That faint warmth in his Dantian seemed to clarify slightly, like a seed buried deep underground, gently enveloped by the cool Moon Essence and the stream's aura, showing a hint of extremely subtle germination.

Time passed bit by bit, and Li Qinghe was completely immersed in this feeling of initial communication with nature.

It wasn't until a faint fish-belly white appeared on the eastern horizon, and the dew-chilled morning wind brushed his face, that he suddenly awoke from that state of forgetting self and object!

It was almost dawn!

He jumped off the cyan stone, put on his straw sandals, followed the path he came, and, stepping in the faint morning light, sprinted back toward home.

This time, his steps were much lighter, as if an invisible burden had been lifted. The dark wood heart pressed against his chest, bringing a faint coolness, like a newly planted seed of hope... The days flowed like the small stream at the village entrance, appearing peaceful on the surface, but beneath flowed Li Qinghe's hidden undercurrent.

During the day, he was Li Dashan's fourth son, Li Qinghe.

The matter of him falling into the water and becoming enlightened had spread throughout the small Li Family Village as if it had grown wings.

The old men and women sunning themselves at the village entrance, the men squatting on doorsteps holding rice bowls, the women washing clothes by the river—anyone gathered to gossip couldn't avoid this topic.

“Did you hear? Dashan's foolish fourth son woke up after falling into the water!”

“That's right! Just the day before yesterday, I saw him helping Madam Zhang carry firewood; his eyes were sparkling clear!”

“Oh, Heaven truly opened its eyes. His old Li family's ancestral grave is emitting green smoke!”

“It's just that he's as thin as a monkey. That fall into the water really took a toll...”

Li Qinghe treated this idle talk as wind whistling past his ears.

He was like a shriveled sponge, diligently absorbing everything about this family.

Sweeping the floor, feeding the chickens, tidying firewood—he did these simple chores quickly and reliably.

Mother Madam Zhang's smile was noticeably more frequent. Although a trace of persistent worry still hid deep in her eyes, there was more relief from recovering something lost.

That evening, the dinner table held simple coarse grain pancakes and wild vegetable porridge boiled until mushy.

Li Dashan chewed his pancake, tapping his rough finger on the greasy tabletop. His voice wasn't loud, but it made everyone stop eating.

“Qinghe,”

He looked at his youngest son, who was drinking the porridge with his head bowed.

“Your mind is clear now; you're not a child anymore. Starting tomorrow, follow your third brother to the Clan School to learn literacy from Old Scholar.”

Li Qinghe's hand, holding the bowl, paused.

Clan School? Old Scholar? Literacy?