The sun finally sank in the west, and the whole earth slipped into night with a sigh.
The little earthworm in the Tongtian Palace had at last completed its long journey, spitting out a single round, full Dao essence.
Dawn at sunrise and dusk at sunset were the finest hours of the day for cultivation. The sun was warm but not fierce, gentle but not harmful — especially for beginning cultivators, it guarded the Dao meridian well. There had been no shortage of those who cultivated at high noon, only to have the sun's true fire stir their heart-fire and burn their bodies and ruin their meridians.
This was what was meant by "morning receives purple qi, evening draws cinnabar clouds."
Even Jiang Wang, with a body tempered by martial arts since childhood, felt his blood-qi power pressed to a certain limit; press further and he would damage his primordial vitality. The little earthworm in the Tongtian Palace looked somewhat listless too.
Of course, at that threshold the body felt no weakness. The Dao essences nurtured in the Tongtian Palace beat like so many tiny hearts, pumping strength without cease.
All this let Jiang Wang grasp deeply the lesson of his classes: from blood-qi power to the birth of Dao essence was a kind of sublimation, the very precondition of transcendence.
He had heard that true martial cultivators did not nurture Dao essence at all, but tempered the body purely, forging blood-qi — that was another road entirely.
In this age, feudal lords rose on every side, sects stood in forests, a hundred schools contended, and the great Dao was without limit. One could call it a golden age of cultivation — though for Jiang Wang, stranded in Zhuang Kingdom, he had no other choice.
Jiang Wang carefully guided the Dao essence to move within the Tongtian Palace, to fill in the Zhoutian Star Formation diagram long since burned into memory. The process was no easy thing. For a man's spiritual power, like his blood-qi, had its limits at every stage.
A cultivator like Jiang Wang, who had only just set foot on the transcendent road, could shift his Dao essence but twice a day at most; any more and his spirit would languish, even risking harm to his mind.
Jiang Wang knew the foundation formation he had chosen took long to build, so he dared not waste a moment, treading as if on thin ice. The slightest error, and he must begin again.
And he had given himself no time to begin again.
Only two chances each day to set the formation nodes — he could miss neither! Even though the Zhoutian Star Formation was far more intricate and arduous than the Guiyuan Formation.
Suppose someone cultivated alongside Jiang Wang, choosing the Guiyuan Formation to lay his foundation. Provided he set his nodes flawlessly, he was certain to advance far faster than Jiang Wang.
Jiang Wang did not know if his choice was right. But having made it, there was no turning back. Only forward, only his utmost, to do it as well as could be.
Fortunately he did well enough. When the day's final meridian-rushing session ended, dozens of Dao essences already hung suspended in the Tongtian Palace, each full and round, like ripe grain in an autumn field, giving off the scent of harvest. These would all be the provisions for his "passage to heaven."
Yet for Jiang Wang there was one more pressing matter.
The dormitory was empty just now. Ling He and Du Yehu had both gone on assignments; having entered the Inner Court, they craved the Meridian-Opening Pill all the more.
Jiang Wang let his mind sink, and entered the Great Void Illusion.
Today was the fifteenth of the seventh month, the challenge day of the month. Barring accident, today he would face the challenge of the Green Jade Altar Master. He would smoothly — be demoted.
The familiar scene again: the great starry sky.
Jiang Wang sat cross-legged, silently watching the phantom of the sundial, waiting for the moment the challenge arrived.
He wanted to see for himself the strength of a true powerhouse. He had "heard" such fierce clashes in Huánzhēn Temple, but had never seen them with his own eyes. And when Dong A struck, his opponent had offered no resistance at all.
Sitting cross-legged in that starry sky, he felt his own heart grow vast and open.
The first time man looked up at the stars, history charged forward. Against the vast river of stars, how small and illusory all the affairs of men.
He did not know how long passed before five ink-dark characters appeared upon the phantom sundial — "The challenger forfeits."
Jiang Wang's heart eased, with a trace of vague regret.
He had kept the monthly output of the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land — but that was perhaps only because of the formidable awe of its former master. That blazing figure named Zuo Guanglie!
Those who entered the Great Void Illusion mostly hid their mortal identities; save themselves, no one knew what renown they held within it. So few knew that the master of the Dongzhen Ruins in the illusion was none other than Zuo Guanglie, the Heaven's Pride of Great Chu, in the mortal world. Now even fewer would know. Even if someone had once inferred it correctly from his fighting style, now it must all be overturned.
For generally, when a man in the mortal world died, his identity in the Great Void Illusion vanished too. But Zuo Guanglie had forced the power of the Zhurong True Body, all but scorching through time and space, and because a stubborn obsession clung to him, the causes tangled together and produced an accident — the Great Void Illusion failed to reclaim the Void Key in time, and Jiang Wang branded it. Thus he inherited everything Zuo Guanglie had possessed within the illusion.
Blessed Land Twenty-Three, the Dongzhen Ruins! This month's output: 1850 Merit.
"Dao-Platform." Jiang Wang intoned in his heart.
A green bamboo desk appeared before him out of nothing, yet it seemed not the least bit out of place — as natural as a crop springing from the earth, though the process went unnoticed.
Upon the bamboo desk there was nothing else, only an open jade book, blank for the moment.
Jiang Wang had done this once before. He need only visualize the technique he wished to deduce, then invest the corresponding Merit, and the deduced technique would appear upon the jade book. The foundation formation, the Zhoutian Star Formation, had been obtained by deducing the Guiyuan Formation.
Now the foundation formation was unfinished, the Dao vortex unformed, and each Dao essence spent was one fewer. To deduce a Dao art was naturally out of the question. Even Jiang Wang himself had only simulated in his mind, never yet truly practiced a Dao art — for in the early stages of cultivation, Dao essence was far too precious.
Yet one could not let the Merit lie idle either, holding it for later. Know this: on the road of cultivation, to stand still is to fall back; whether tomorrow or accident comes first, no one can say. So to grow as strong as possible at every stage was the right principle.
Jiang Wang thought a moment, and chose from the sword arts he knew best one of a sharp and relentless style to deduce.
And the Merit he spent was — 1850 points!
The whole atmosphere of Zhuang Kingdom favored Dao arts over martial skill. But Jiang Wang, at this stage, had no choice; the foundation unbuilt, he dared not wield even the strongest Dao art.
And having chosen to strengthen his swordsmanship, he would give it his all, sparing nothing.
The jade book upon the bamboo desk burst at once with many characters — the ordinary sword art Jiang Wang had learned in the Outer Court of the Fenglin City Dao Academy, remarkable for nothing but its sharpness. But even as the number of Merit upon the phantom sundial fell without cease, the characters on the jade book began to shift and churn in a frenzy.
Jiang Wang fixed his gaze. Those characters seemed to evolve into figures of men, dancing as they drew their swords. Faster and faster they danced, until at last they seemed to blur into one mass.
Jiang Wang could not help but narrow his eyes — he had the very illusion of being pricked by their edge!
When he blinked and looked again, the characters on the jade book had gone still, and before him lay a sword art both profound and arcane, one he had never seen, never even imagined!
In the Outer Court, Jiang Wang had been acknowledged as first in swordsmanship. But leafing through this art, he suddenly felt all he had practiced before was mere farmhand's play, fit only for working the fields!
The number of Merit upon the phantom sundial had cleared to zero, yet Jiang Wang let out a sigh of deep contentment.
It had all been worth it!