Xiao Clan, Back Mountain Cave
Xiao Bai sat cross-legged on a smooth boulder inside a secluded cave. He had discovered this place as a child. Quiet and spacious, it was rarely visited, making it the perfect spot for his breakthrough.
He placed the two jade bottles before him, took a deep breath to clear his mind, and assumed the five-point meditation pose, aligning his body's energies.
When ready, Xiao Bai focused on compressing the Dou Zhi Qi in his dantian. In past attempts, the qi had refused to budge at this stage, but this time was different. Under his effort, the qi began to rotate slowly, forming a faint whirl.
A good sign! Elated, Xiao Bai grabbed a Qi-Gathering Powder pill and swallowed it.
As the pill's energy spread, the Dou Zhi Qi in his dantian spun faster, forming a small vortex at its center. Like a galaxy in the cosmos, the vortex grew, drawing in stray qi from the dantian's edges. The qi in his meridians, as if summoned, surged toward the dantian in a torrent.
The qi vortex expanded, filling the dantian's core. The Dou Zhi Qi within was steadily compressed into pure Dou Qi.
When all the Dou Zhi Qi had transformed, the dantian quivered. The vortex slowed, no longer spinning wildly.
A Dou Zhe's aura burst from Xiao Bai.
"Haha! Five years—five years, and I've finally done it!"
Feeling the changes in his dantian and the Dou Qi now several times stronger than his ninth-stage Dou Zhi Qi, Xiao Bai was ecstatic. He let out a wild, cathartic laugh.
He had been 98% certain the talisman was behind his inability to break through, but that sliver of doubt had nagged at him. If it wasn't the talisman, the implications were dire.
Without a clear cause, he'd be stuck, unable to grow stronger. Lacking the Xiao Clan's bloodline, he couldn't rely on Xiao Yan carrying him to greatness when the latter became a Dou Di. As for Xun'er—imagining her as a Dou Sheng with a ninth-stage Dou Zhi Qi man by her side was unbearable. Even if she didn't mind, the ridicule from the entire continent would be merciless. I'm not some smug, crooked-mouthed fool to endure that.
And then there was Ya Fei. In his past life, her cunning and ambition would've made her a powerhouse. But in this strength-ruled world, without ties to a protagonist, she'd be reduced to a pawn of her clan or a plaything for the powerful.
Why cling to someone's coattails when I can be the one leading the charge?
BOOM!
A thunderous roar snapped Xiao Bai from his refreshed state.
"Zixiao Divine Thunder!" he blurted out.
Wait, why did I say Zixiao Divine Thunder? Is it storming outside? Puzzled, he glanced toward the cave's entrance. The sunlight streamed in, the sky clear and bright.
Suddenly, a realization hit him. He hurriedly probed his sea of consciousness, and the sight within made him rub his eyes in disbelief, wondering if he'd entered the wrong mind.
His sea of consciousness was awash with purple lightning, illuminating the space in a violet hue, like a realm of thunder. At its center, the talisman—motionless for years—was now wreathed in purple bolts, its ancient simplicity transformed into something majestic and divine.
It no longer seemed a mere talisman but a Thunder Emperor's Decree, radiating an awe-inspiring might. Xiao Bai felt like an ant beneath the heavens, liable to be obliterated by a single purple bolt, leaving no trace.
Talisman Bro—no, Talisman Lord! I may have cursed you before, but considering I spent 2,000 merit points to bring you here and we've been roommates for years, please keep those thunderbolts in check! Don't zap me. Where else would you find a host this handsome and easygoing, right?
Sensing the heavenly pressure, Xiao Bai knew he was outmatched and wisely yielded.
As if responding, the lightning in his sea of consciousness twisted chaotically, making his heart race. But the purple bolts didn't harm him. Instead, they aligned in the air according to some profound pattern.
They formed glowing words: Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Canon.
The text wasn't in the Dou Qi Continent's script but in the Chinese characters of his past life.
Xiao Bai's heart leaped. A cultivation technique! With Talisman Lord's current grandeur, this technique must be extraordinary.
He focused intently on the lightning, ready to memorize every detail of the Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Canon. A technique wasn't to be taken lightly—one wrong word could spell disaster during cultivation.
But as he waited, nothing followed. The words simply hovered.
Cautiously, he addressed the talisman: Talisman Lord, what's next?
The talisman flickered with electric light but gave no response.
Talisman Lord, you asleep?
Still, only flickering light.
Xiao Bai's frustration flared. I've bared my soul, and this is all you show me? But he didn't dare voice his anger.
He studied the words again, but no matter how he looked, there was nothing more—just those characters gleaming in the air.
Determined, he glared at them, refusing to believe they'd linger forever.
Then, his heart lurched. The words plummeted toward his sea of consciousness. He'd seen the lightning's power—without the talisman's control, a single wisp could kill him a thousand times over. Now, a mass of it was crashing down. How could he survive?
My life is over!
Unable to stop it, he watched the words draw closer. Unwilling to witness his end, he closed his eyes.
If I die like this, am I the most pathetic transmigrator ever? Killed by my own golden finger? Other transmigrators would laugh themselves to death!
I hope my next life takes me back to Earth. This world's too cruel. One moment I'm plotting to seize resources and grow strong, the next I'm done for!
After a flurry of chaotic thoughts, Xiao Bai realized he felt no pain from a thunderstrike.
Did I die so fast I didn't feel it?
Puzzled, he opened his eyes, stood, and checked his body. Every part was intact.
"Haha, I'm fine! I'm not—!"
"Hmph!"
Before he could celebrate, a groan escaped him. He clutched his head and collapsed as a flood of information surged into his mind, threatening to split his skull.
Nine Heavens Divine Thunder Canon.
The technique had been embedded in those words, not to be read but directly inscribed into his sea of consciousness.
Gritting his teeth, sweat streamed down his face like a river. His head felt as if scraped by knives, but he endured silently. This was his opportunity, his foundation for the future. No matter the pain, he would bear it.
Finally, the information settled. Relief washed over him.