5: Chapter 5: The First Hurdle

Tianxuan Calendar, 17th Year of Taiping, Winter

After his wrists were cleared, Spiritual Qi began to spread throughout his entire body like water from a breached dam.

The time Lu Chen spent on Qi Channeling increased every day. He would sit from dawn until dusk, and from dusk until midnight. He ignored the fire when it went out; when he felt cold, he would wiggle his fingers and toes to get his blood circulating.

Mo Wen told him he was too impatient.

"Do you want to walk a lifetime's worth of path within a single year?"

"It would be best if I could."

"You won't be able to," Mo Wen said, handing him the medicinal soup. "You have only cleared your wrists; there are still your elbows, shoulders, ankles, knees, and Dantian ahead. There are thirty-six Meridians in the whole body, and you haven't even cleared half of one yet."

Lu Chen took the medicinal soup and downed it in one gulp.

"I still have to walk it."

Mo Wen didn't try to persuade him further.

Two months passed.

The autumn of the 17th Year of Taiping ended, and winter arrived.

Winter at Qingniu Ridge was very cold. The wind blew across the mountain ridge, carrying shards of ice that stung when they hit his face. The roof of the Ruined Temple couldn't block the wind, so Lu Chen stuffed the gaps in the walls with dried grass and branches, making it barely habitable.

But it was still cold.

He spread all the dried grass he could find on the ground and curled up on top of it. He was often woken up by the cold at night; whenever he woke, he would sit cross-legged to practice Qi Channeling until his body warmed up, then lie back down.

Mo Wen said this was a good thing.

"The cold can keep you clear-headed. The path to Cultivate requires a clear-headed person. If you are too comfortable, you will easily fall asleep, and if you fall asleep, you will die."

Lu Chen felt that Mo Wen was right, but not entirely right.

Cold was just cold; waking up from the cold was just waking up from the cold, and it had nothing to do with being clear-headed.

The fiftieth day.

The Spiritual Qi cleared his elbows.

Lu Chen was sitting there practicing Qi Channeling when he suddenly felt a numbness in his elbows, as if he had been pricked by a needle.

Then the Spiritual Qi passed through.

It was like water overflowing a dam, neither fast nor slow.

He opened his eyes, clenched his fist, then relaxed it.

His hands were stronger than before.

It wasn't a psychological effect; they were truly stronger. When he gripped his firewood knife, the handle felt like it had grown into his hand.

He told Mo Wen about this, and the old man nodded.

"Wherever the Spiritual Qi reaches, that place will have strength. Once you clear your whole body, you will be able to kill an ox with one punch."

"Why kill an ox?"

"It's a metaphor," Mo Wen said. "It means you will be much stronger than an ordinary person."

"Can I beat the Gray-robed Man?"

Mo Wen glanced at him but didn't answer.

Lu Chen understood. He couldn't beat him. He was still far off.

The sixtieth day.

The Spiritual Qi cleared his shoulders.

This time it wasn't numbness, but heat. It was like someone had placed a hot towel on his shoulders, and the heat was seeping inward, seeping into his bones.

After his shoulders were cleared, the strength in his arms increased another notch.

Lu Chen tried it out; he could lift the rock at the entrance of the temple with one hand. Half a month ago, he couldn't even move it with both hands.

"Is this Spiritual Qi?" He looked at his hands.

"This is it," Mo Wen said. "You now have Spiritual Qi in your body. Although it's little, there is already a tiny bit."

"What can Spiritual Qi do?"

"It can let you live a little longer," Mo Wen said. "As for anything else, you aren't qualified yet."

The seventieth day.

It snowed.

Qingniu Ridge was covered in snow, and the path up the mountain was completely white. Lu Chen stepped into the snow; it reached his calves, and every step required a great deal of effort.

But he still went.

Mo Wen was waiting for him at the cave entrance, holding a tattered cotton-padded jacket, which he threw to him.

"Wear it."

"Where did this come from?"

"Stripped from a dead person."

Lu Chen glanced at him, said nothing, and put on the jacket.

The jacket was very old and had a musty smell, but it was warm.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Mo Wen said. "Just do something for me in the future."

"What thing?"

"I haven't thought of it yet. I'll tell you when I do."

Lu Chen didn't press him. Mo Wen was the kind of person who wouldn't say more even if you asked.

The eightieth day.

The Spiritual Qi cleared his ankles.

This was the most difficult time.

His wrists, elbows, and shoulders all followed his arms downwards, with a smooth path. But his ankles were different; the Spiritual Qi moved down from his chest, passing through his abdomen, thighs, and knees, moving all the way down, but it got stuck when it reached his ankles.

It was stuck for seven whole days.

Lu Chen tried various methods—accelerating the speed of Qi Channeling, slowing it down, concentrating his focus to force it through, and emptying his mind to let the Spiritual Qi move on its own.

None of it worked.

The Spiritual Qi would disperse when it reached his ankles, as if it had hit a transparent wall.

He asked Mo Wen what was going on.

"Because you have something on your mind."

"What thing?"

"You are afraid."

"What am I afraid of?"

"Afraid of losing."

Lu Chen fell silent.

Mo Wen was right. What he was afraid of wasn't failing to clear his ankles; it was the fear that after he cleared them, he would never be able to go back.

Once he cleared his ankles, the Spiritual Qi would have traveled throughout his entire body. Once it had traveled throughout his body, he could no longer be considered an "ordinary person."

He was still a Mortal right now, living in the Ruined Temple, drinking medicinal soup and practicing Qi Channeling, living a bitter but simple life.

After clearing them, he would be a Cultivator.

A Level 1 Qi Refining Cultivator, the lowest kind, but he would no longer be a Mortal.

"Afraid of losing what?" Mo Wen asked.

"I don't know either," Lu Chen said.

But he was lying. He knew.

He was afraid of losing the possibility of "turning back." As long as he was still a Mortal, he could return to the village at any time to continue chopping wood, live to be seventy or eighty, and rot in the ground. Although the taste of rotting in the ground wasn't pleasant, at least it was a path he was familiar with.

A Cultivator was different.

He had never seen a Cultivator's path.

Everything ahead was black; he didn't know which step would lead him to step into thin air, and if he did, what kind of place he would fall into.

"You are afraid of the dark," Mo Wen said.

"No."

"Yes, you are."

Lu Chen didn't argue further.

The eighty-seventh day.

At night.

The snow stopped, and the moon came out. The moonlight shone on the snow, and the entire mountain was bright, just like daytime.

Lu Chen sat in the Ruined Temple, his eyes closed.

The Spiritual Qi flowed within his body like water in a canal, slowly streaming along the Meridians that had already been cleared.

His wrists, elbows, shoulders, and knees—these places were all cleared, and when the Spiritual Qi flowed past, there were no obstacles, as if it were walking on flat ground.

But when it reached his ankles, it stopped again.

Lu Chen didn't force it. He sat there, thinking about what Mo Wen had said.

"You are afraid of the dark."

"I am not afraid of the dark," he said to himself in his heart.

"What I am afraid of is—reaching the end and finding nothing there."

This was the truth.

He wasn't afraid of the process of to Cultivate, nor of losing his memories, nor of his cultivation regressing. He was afraid that after struggling so hard to reach the end, he would find that eternal life was fake, or that eternal life was real but meaningless.

Wang Qishan had found the truth. The truth was that "eternal life is fake."

If Wang Qishan was right, then everything Lu Chen was doing right now was a waste of his life.

Lu Chen opened his eyes and looked at the snowy ground outside the Ruined Temple.

The moon was very bright, the snow was very white, and it was so quiet it felt like the whole world had died.

He asked himself a question in his heart—

"If eternal life is fake, would you regret it?"

He thought for a long time.

Then he closed his eyes and continued Qi Channeling.

The Spiritual Qi surged to his ankles.

This time, it didn't disperse.

It flowed like water, slowly and silently, past his ankles.

It was cleared.

Lu Chen felt it.

The Spiritual Qi started from his chest, passed through his abdomen, thighs, knees, and calves, moving all the way down, flowing past his ankles, and surging to the soles of his feet.

The soles of his feet became hot.

They were as hot as stepping on a stone in summer.

Lu Chen opened his eyes and looked down at his feet.

He couldn't see anything.

But he knew that from this moment on, he was no longer a Mortal.

The ninetieth day.

Lu Chen went up the mountain and told Mo Wen the news that his ankles had been cleared.

The old man was cooking medicinal soup without even lifting his head.

"Hmm."

"Just 'hmm'?"

"What else? Set off firecrackers to celebrate?"

Lu Chen sat down and helped Mo Wen add firewood.

"Do I count as Level 1 Qi Refining now?"

"Yes and no," Mo Wen said. "You have cleared the Meridians in your limbs, but your Dantian hasn't been cleared yet. If the Dantian isn't cleared, the Spiritual Qi cannot be stored. If it cannot be stored, it is just a flowing river, without a lake."

"How do I clear the Dantian?"

"Continue Qi Channeling," Mo Wen said. "When there is enough Spiritual Qi, the Dantian will open on its own."

"How long?"

"I don't know." Mo Wen finally lifted his head and looked at him. "You are faster than I thought. I thought it would take you at least four months to clear your wrists, but you did it in thirty days. I thought it would take a year to clear your whole body, but you have only taken ninety days so far."

"So?"

"So I don't know how fast you will be next," Mo Wen said. "You don't have a Spiritual Root, but you are growing a Spiritual Root. I have never seen this before, and I don't know how it will develop."

Lu Chen nodded.

"Then I'll continue."

He sat down, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes.

The Spiritual Qi began to circulate in his body.

Starting from his chest, flowing to his limbs, and then returning from his limbs to his chest.

One cycle, then another.

Like a waterwheel turning.

Mo Wen watched him from the side, his eyes complex.

"You are faster than Wang Qishan," the old man said in a low voice. "You are also faster than the other one. But being fast isn't necessarily a good thing."

Lu Chen didn't hear him.

He had completely immersed himself in the flow of the Spiritual Qi.