The next day, Master Gao took Lianxi out for experience in the Balzamia Forest. Much of her training over the past two years had taken place in these woods, and she knew them well by now. As they ventured deeper, the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, until at last they reached a wide river.
Though fairly shallow, the water teemed with countless palm-sized, razor-toothed fish known as Piricarps. They were low-level demonic beasts, weak on their own, but they moved with abnormal speed and hunted in swarms. Their bite could tear deep into flesh, and anyone unlucky enough to fall among them would be stripped to the bone in moments.
As if sensing intruders, several Piricarps leapt a few meters above the surface, teeth snapping, their beady eyes fixed hungrily on Lianxi and her master.
Master Gao gestured to a line of jagged, slippery rocks stretching across the river. "Your first test begins here," he said, his voice steady and authoritative. "Cross using only the stones. Do not fall in."
Lianxi nodded, trepidation and determination mingling in her eyes. Falling meant certain death. There was no room for mistakes.
"Since this is the first test, I'll give you a hint," Master Gao went on. "Absolute focus is the key."
"Understood," Lianxi said firmly.
He picked up a sturdy fallen branch and handed it to her. "Use this to ward off the Piricarps. Channel your qi into it, and it will be enough to repel them."
Lianxi took a few moments to compose herself, drawing her mind into perfect stillness. Then, with a deep breath, she leapt onto the first rock.
The task proved far harder than she had expected. She had to channel qi into her legs to cover the wide gaps between the stones while keeping her balance and watching for Piricarps breaking the surface. Some rocks were so sharp and narrow that she could only land on the tips of her toes.
Just as she landed on a particularly small, slick stone, a Piricarp burst out of the water in front of her, its jaws gaping. Gritting her teeth, Lianxi swung the branch and knocked it back into the river. But several more surged up from below, all heading straight for her.
On instinct, she gathered her qi and leapt several meters into the air, landing cleanly on the next rock. But the jump had drained most of her qi in one go, and she was left panting, a thin trickle of spiritual energy all that remained in her dantian. She had been careless. With more than half the river still ahead, she would have to make do with almost nothing.
As if mocking her miscalculation, two more Piricarps launched themselves at her at once. She evaded one and struck the other, but a third caught her by surprise from behind. Its teeth sank deep into her arm.
A sharp cry escaped her. The pain threw her off balance, and her eyes widened as the churning water rushed up toward her.
Focus.
In that instant, she forced her mind still. The world seemed to slow. She felt the rock beneath her heel, the spray of water, the shape of the stones ahead. She kicked off the edge of the rock, twisted through the air in a tight somersault, and landed in a crouch on the next stone. Two years of grueling physical training had made her body supple, and it did not fail her now.
There was no time to rest. In the middle of the river, the Piricarps grew even more relentless, coming at her from every direction.
But something had changed.
Master Gao's hint finally made sense. She didn't need more qi. She needed to stop wasting it. Sinking her focus deeper than ever before, Lianxi began to sense everything around her: every ripple, every flash of silver beneath the surface, every stone and the path that linked them. She stopped reacting and began to anticipate.
She spent her remaining qi in tiny, precise bursts, just enough for each leap and each strike and no more. The branch flicked out and met each Piricarp the instant it broke the surface, as though she had known exactly where it would appear.
A grin spread across her face as the far bank drew closer. Stone by stone, strike by strike, she crossed the rest of the river.
When her feet finally touched solid ground, she dropped to her knees on the grass, gasping for breath. Hearing Master Gao's unhurried footsteps, she lifted her head.
He gave her a small, approving nod. "You've passed the first test. You grasped the method faster than I expected."
"Many thanks, Master," Lianxi said demurely.
"Don't grow complacent. This was only the beginning. The tests that follow will be far more difficult. Prepare yourself."
"Yes, Master!"
He crouched beside her and poured a high-grade elixir over her bleeding arm. The wound closed rapidly before her eyes. "Let's head back. Since you've mastered the basics of pill refining, I'll begin teaching you the advanced techniques."
Lianxi's eyes lit up. Over the past five years, Master Gao had imparted his knowledge of countless arts to her. Under his guidance, she had grown steadily more proficient in refining pills, elixirs and potions, as well as medicine, arrays, crafting and more. Every one of these arts fascinated her, and she longed to master them all.
✦ ✦ ✦
From then on, the tests only grew harder. One day, she had to brew a pill blindfolded, identifying each herb by scent and touch alone. Another day, Master Gao left her in the depths of an illusion array for three days, where every path she chose seemed to lead back to where she had started. Each trial pushed her mind to its limits.
Between the tests, her meridian cleansing and her study of the arts, her days were so full that she had almost no time left to cultivate. So she made a decision: she would give up sleep and cultivate through the night instead.
Cultivation was, at its heart, the act of stilling the mind so that spiritual energy could flow into the dantian. It rested the body deeply enough to replace several hours of sleep. It was not a true substitute, but Lianxi was willing to accept the cost.
Master Gao noticed, of course. He said nothing, but a pot of calming tea began appearing by her door each night.
Pushed this hard day after day, her mind began to change. Lianxi had always been able to recall anything she had read even once, but now she could absorb entire books in a fraction of the time. Her refining grew faster and more precise, and difficult techniques she once struggled with began to feel natural.
Six months passed this way. Then, one evening, Master Gao announced that she had passed.
✦ ✦ ✦
Master and disciple sat facing each other on a mat in the practice room of their house.
"I will now teach you the method to fully cure your dantian," Master Gao said solemnly.
Lianxi's eyes widened. "You mean… I can heal it myself?"
He nodded once. "This technique is most effective when used on oneself. No one can sense your body as clearly as you can." His gaze drifted to some distant point as he continued. "It is an ancient secret art, far more powerful than acupuncture. Understand that what I am about to teach you is of great significance. No one else in this world possesses it."
Lianxi stared at him in awe. The acupuncture techniques he had already taught her were rare and remarkably effective. And yet he knew something even greater? Just how heaven-defying was her master?
Then his expression darkened. "But hear me well. Used improperly, this technique can utterly destroy the person it is used on, or even kill them. For that reason, it was forbidden several millennia ago. Only someone with exceptionally strong mental power can wield it without error. That is why I put you through all those tests." He regarded her probingly. "Knowing all this, are you confident you can practice this art properly?"
Lianxi bowed reverently. "Yes, Master. I promise I'll be worthy of the treasure you're entrusting me with."
"Good. The technique is called Core Manipulation. You channel your qi and mental power into a body, whether your own or another's, and reshape it from within."
Lianxi tilted her head thoughtfully. "Like how I cleanse my meridians?"
"No. This goes far deeper. Cleansing only washes away what doesn't belong. Core Manipulation reaches into the very foundation of the body. It lets you mend cracks in the dantian, reforge damaged meridians and refine the bones, blood and essence themselves."
Understanding dawned in Lianxi's eyes. No wonder Master Gao had placed such importance on mental power. The body contained countless threads of qi, blood and essence, all intricately woven together. To reshape them without tearing any apart would demand an almost unimaginable level of focus.
After a pause, Master Gao continued. "It was this technique that saved your life when I first found you. I tried to heal your dantian with it as well, but mending another's body from the outside is painfully slow. Your mental power has grown remarkably. It will be far better for you to heal yourself."
Lianxi felt a little awkward. "I don't think I'm anywhere near as capable as Master, but I'll do my best."
"Have confidence in yourself," he said sternly. "That, too, is one of the keys to success."
"Yes, Master," she replied obediently.
"One final warning before we begin. This technique is extremely taxing. Use it on others only in the most urgent situations. Even when you practice on yourself each day, stop before your mental energy runs too low. If you overuse it, you could lose your mind."
Lianxi's gaze did not waver. Whatever dangers lay ahead, she was willing to face them all.