Warm sunlight filtered through the window cracks, casting tiny, scattered patches of light across the tidy room.
Within the room, the youth sat bare-chested, cross-legged in a wooden basin. His hands met before his chest in a strange mudra, his eyes shut, his breathing steady and strong.
The basin was filled with a green liquid that, when it sloshed gently, reflected back faint glimmers of strange light.
The boy's chest rose and fell softly, his breath falling into a rhythm. As the training stretched on, the green liquid gradually gave off a thin, green-tinged mist that slowly climbed until, following the youth's breathing, it slipped into his body through his nostrils.
As the mist entered him, the boy's tender face seemed, all at once, to glow with a luster like warm jade.
Sensing the Dou Qi growing ever fuller within him, a shallow, gratified smile crept across the youth's face.
Having tasted the sweetness, the boy did not stop there. His eyes stayed shut, the mudra utterly still. He gathered his mind and steadied his spirit, preserving his best state of training as he greedily drew in the gentle energy held within the green liquid.
The green liquid clung to the youth's skin, trickling into his body thread by thread through his pores, nourishing his bones and washing clean his meridians…
Under the boy's ceaseless demands, more and more mist drifted up from the basin, until at last it faintly veiled even his bare torso.
And so the training passed amid hard, self-denying cultivation. The sunlight through the window gradually weakened, and the sweltering heat of the day slowly cooled.
…
Within the basin, the boy with his eyes shut drew in the last wisp of mist. His lashes fluttered, and after a moment his jet-black eyes snapped abruptly open.
In those black pupils, the familiar white glint flickered past once more — yet this time it carried a faint hint of pale green.
Slowly expelling a stale breath, the boy blinked, then sprang to his feet, letting the cool droplets roll off his body. Stretching languidly, he felt the fullness of that Dou Qi absent from his body for three years, and murmured in a voice tinged with intoxication: "At this pace, in another two months or so, I should be able to break through to the fifth stage of Dou Qi…"
Ever since the last time he had finished preparing everything, Xiao Yan had shut himself in for over half a month. Apart from eating, drinking, and the rest, he had all but lived the secluded life of a true hermit.
Yet although the days were a touch monotonous, to Xiao Yan — a boy who had endured three years of scornful glances and mocking blows — they were scarcely worthy of mention.
Those three years of contempt had taught him all too clearly just how vital strength was upon this continent…
But though the days were hard, the results his training reaped were enough to fill a man's heart with joy.
The spirit-liquid refined by Yao Lao proved far more potent than even Xiao Yan, or Yao Lao himself, had expected. Originally they had believed that, even with the liquid's aid, Xiao Yan would need at least a month to reach the fourth stage of Dou Qi. Yet, to their surprise, he had managed to cut that time cleanly in half…
Even Yao Lao could not help but marvel at Xiao Yan's efficiency. Though this had some connection to the fact that he had walked this road once before, the speed was, all the same, simply too fast!
After all, the foundation of Dou Qi cultivation was notoriously the most difficult part. No small number of people spent ten years, or even twenty, on the ten stages of the initial Dou Qi… Of course, the moment one truly became a Dou Fighter, one's speed of cultivation would quicken greatly — before that rank, a single year might only see one's Dou Qi rise one stage, yet after entering it, one might shoot up several stars in a year.
Measured against such a stark comparison, Xiao Yan's showing over this half month was, indeed, quite startling.
…
Climbing out of the basin without the least hesitation, Xiao Yan glanced back at the green liquid, which had gone a shade lighter — the effect of having its energy absorbed by him. Shaking his head helplessly, he muttered: "Can this still support another month and a half of training?"
Wiping the moisture from his body, Xiao Yan slipped on a clean set of robes, then clambered onto the soft bed. From beneath the pillow he drew out that pitch-black iron shard.
The rust on the shard had been carefully scrubbed clean by Xiao Yan; the whole thing now shone a little, giving off a faint, mysterious luster.
Over the half month, aside from burying himself in silent training, Xiao Yan had devoted all his remaining attention to the low-grade Xuan-rank Dou Technique stored within that shard.
Guided by Yao Lao, Xiao Yan had gradually grasped a few tricks of the Suction Palm. Yet because the Dou Qi in his body remained so thin, he had never seen any real effect from it — a fact that rather frustrated him.
…
Clamping the iron shard between both palms, Xiao Yan slowly shut his eyes, and his soul-sense, following the path along his arm, probed easily and familiarly into the black shard.
As his breathing steadied, the room fell quiet once more.
A long stretch of silence followed, until at some moment the youth on the bed abruptly snapped both eyes open. His right palm curled slightly into a claw-like shape, and the thin Dou Qi within his body, following the direction of his will, swiftly threaded through the several specific meridians and acupoints at the center of his palm. At the last, a surge of suction burst forth.
"Thump…"
At the point where his palm was aimed, a celadon vase on the table suddenly wobbled several times, then crashed to the floor, shattering into a pool of fragments with a crisp sound.
"Sigh, though the technique be of the Xuan rank, my Dou Qi is far too weak to bring out any real power." Eyeing the destruction he had wrought, Xiao Yan curled his lip and murmured helplessly: "Going by this result, it would probably take at least the seventh stage of Dou Qi to produce enough suction to wrench a person's body."
"Forget it — I'll go to the clan's technique hall and look for a low-rank technique that suits me. This Suction Palm won't be of much use in the near term. And now that I can train my Dou Qi again, I can hardly go on training as foolishly as I used to…" With a sigh, Xiao Yan climbed down from the bed. His gaze flickered over the black ring on his finger, which showed no reaction, then he walked to the door, pushed it open, and stepped out.
He squinted, and only once accustomed to the blazing sunlight did he carefully pull the door shut behind him. Then he followed the gravel path, ambling slowly toward the rear courtyard.
On both sides stood verdant willows, their lush greenery a tonic to the spirit.
Rounding a bend, a burst of girlish laughter drifted over from another path.
The serene atmosphere thus disturbed, Xiao Yan knit his brows. His gaze followed the sound to a cluster of girls approaching with coy laughter.
In the midst of several comely young women stood one with a coquettish flair, smiling demurely. The air of seductiveness gracing her young face was enough to make the several raw, unformed girls at her side feel a pang of inferiority.
This was Xiao Mei — the girl who had made such a spectacle of herself at the testing ground all those days ago.
His gaze swept coolly over the beautiful girl who had once trotted beside him, calling "cousin" this and "cousin" that without end. A flicker of mockery passed across Xiao Yan's face, and he shook his head lightly before withdrawing his gaze without a trace of lingering regret.
As the path drew to its end, Xiao Mei's tantalizing laugh abruptly died down — she had caught sight of the youth some distance away on the left…
The setting sun spilled down from the edge of the sky, falling upon the boy who rested the back of his head in one palm, his young face serene and unconcerned — a strikingly captivating sight.
A pair of soul-luring eyes fixed upon that drawing youth, and as she studied the faint arc at the corner of his lips — a curve impossible to say whether it was mockery or a smile — Xiao Mei's mind suddenly drifted into a strange daze…
Three years ago, that very same arc, so dizzying in its charm, had often hung at the corners of that boy's lips.