The clash of fists and feet echoed in the quiet clearing. I stood across from Luo Cheng, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Sweat dripped down my forehead, staining my training robe until it clung tight against my skin. Three days of practice had tempered my movements. They were no longer wild strikes that risked hurting him but sharpened blows that carried weight and control.
A faint chime rang in my ears, and the familiar screen lit up before me.
[1st Stage of Qi Gathering – (+5%)]
I exhaled with satisfaction. What had started at thirty percent had grown faster than I expected. After training for three days and gaining five percent each day, I had earned fifteen percent on top of the initial thirty. Now it was forty-five. The system was truly trying to make me stronger.
--- The Celestial System ---
[[Name: Xuan Yuan (Lucas Silva)
Age: 17
Cultivation Level: 1st Stage of Qi Gathering – (45%)
Skills: …
Abilities: Lunar Slash (click to view details)
Quests: CLICK HERE]]
As I checked my progress, Luo Cheng sat down next to me and said -
"Word has it Golden Lotus City will hold a festival in a week," he said. "That city is strange, filled with cultivators who use talismans in battle. Many say facing one of them from the same realm is the worst match you can get."
His tone was calm, as if talking about the weather, but I could see the faint spark of interest in his eyes. Looks like he wants to visit that place sometime in the future. Well, I have to admit that even I am interested and want to meet those talisman user cultivators but first I need to grow my wings before I can fly.
I chuckled, wiping sweat from my brow. "You're highly adaptive in battle, Brother Luo. Maybe that talent works in bed too."
He blinked once, his thick brows knitting together, then burst into laughter. His laugh was deep and unrestrained, the kind that came from the chest. He was too simple-minded to take offense, and that made me grin. We were both becoming closer to each other and maybe in the future close enough to trust each other's backs in this world where only true strength prevails above everything.
After completing my training, I walked back toward my courtyard. The stone path was quiet until I saw a familiar figure. Xuan Ling had just finished her own session. Her steps were steady, carrying the poise of someone far ahead of her peers. She looked up, her eyes finding mine.
"What is this? The sun must have risen from the west," she said coldly. "I don't hear maids crying, nor do I see you throwing your arrogance around and bullying the clan maids."
A dull throb hit my temple. I would rather have passed by without a word, but she had forced my hand. I knew I couldn't avoid my clan and new family forever. One day I would have to face them, and it looks like it's starting from today.
"I've been busy with training," I said flatly.
She smirked, a small laugh escaping her lips. "You were training?" But her gaze swept over me. Sweat soaked my robe, pressing it against my skin and showing the faint trace of muscle which was visible due to my training the past 3 days which reduced some fat. The smirk slowly faded.
"Looks like you are changing," she said. "And for the good, not bad."
I only nodded and didn't say anything else.
Her tone sharpened. "Are you training for the Xiantian Sect recruitment?"
I nodded again.
"Good luck then. Three months to cross two levels. I hear Uncle is preparing pills for you. Let's see if they are wasted on trash or used by someone who can keep the clan's dignity."
With that, she started walking away. Her long hair swayed as she moved, her face neither plain nor beautiful but somewhere in between. Looked like no one in this main family had good enough looks but still, it wasn't half bad.
I watched her go, my thoughts heavy. Nineteen years old, yet she has already reached the eighth stage of Qi Gathering. That much made her on the same level as a talented genius. The Azure Cloud Sect's recruitment required only the seventh stage before twenty, and she had surpassed it long ago.
She was blunt and sharp, speaking without care for how her words landed. She rarely started conversations, but her mind planned ahead like a blade honed for war. Unlike me, she carried strong ties with her parents.
My thoughts shifted to her mother, Li Rong. She had once been a fourth-stage Core Formation cultivator. A hunting trip had turned into an ambush. A man with an old grudge struck her down, planning to leave no witness. She would have died there, but fate twisted. A beast charged him, forcing him to fight for his life. In that moment, she escaped—but her core was shattered.
Her husband, my uncle Xuan Kong, later killed that man and returned with his severed head. Since then he has searched for years for a cure. Only a fifth realm alchemist could craft a pill to mend a broken core. Such people were rarer than Golden Core cultivators. In the northern region, there had been only one, but he vanished long ago in search of alchemy knowledge. Now, no one knows where he is or if he is even alive or not, or if he is simply wandering the empire in search of greater heights.
No wonder Xuan Ling carried herself like a drawn sword. To grow when one's foundation was so fragile demanded nothing less.
I looked eastward, mind drifting to the great path ahead. As I was looking towards the sect, I started combining all the fogged memories to remember the cultivation realms in the Tang Dynasty.
The Realms of Cultivation
Qi Gathering
Qi Condensation
Foundation Establishment
Core Formation
Golden Core
Nascent Soul
Beyond these 6 realms stood the seventh realm—Soul Condensation. Patriarchs of the Xiantian, Longfeng, and Azure Cloud Sects are in this realm. Their fists could shatter mountains. When they clashed, two hundred kilometers of land could be erased. The power levels made them another level of monsters who shouldn't be provoked unless you have the same or higher level of cultivation.
I clenched my fist. I had only taken my first step, yet the heavens stretched before me without end. But if even death couldn't claim me one time then what can possibly the heavens do to stop me, even if it tries to, I won't buckle or yield, I won't stop, I will... Rise.
With this renewed determination, I started walking towards my courtyard. Halfway to my courtyard, another thought struck me. I still haven't visited the clan library, so I stopped and turned and started heading towards the Library Pavilion to get a sword skill to practice with first.
The library pavilion stood in the eastern wing, old yet dignified. An outer elder sat at its entrance, a quiet man without much rank. He glanced at me, gave a curt nod, and waved me inside.
As soon as I stepped inside and the smell of parchment and ink drifted into my nose. Shelves lined the first floor, filled with palm strikes, blade techniques, and simple manuals. None of them drew me in. My path was the sword. Without hesitation, I climbed to the second floor.
About fifteen disciples browsed the shelves. A few noticed me when I walked in. Some looked displeased but quickly hid it, pretending to read. No one wanted to mingle with trash like me or mock me for my incompetence, as I was the son of the patriarch.
I walked the rows, my thoughts on cultivation arts. They were categorised into four grades—Yellow, Black, Sky, and Heaven. Each grade is split into Low, Mid, and High. For those in Qi Gathering like me, the highest permitted techniques were of the Mid-Yellow Grade. Anything stronger was locked away on the upper floors. The clan elders and only the patriarch held access to High-Black Grade techniques, the true heritage of the clan, and the highest grade techniques inside our clan.
My eyes started roaming through the lines of books on the shelves, and that's when my attention was caught by a title.
Flowing River Sword Art.
A Mid-Yellow Grade sword technique, the highest I could touch. I pulled it out, tracing the worn characters. It spoke of qi flowing like water—gentle when left to wander, unstoppable when gathered and released. It was perfect for me who needed to learn to control my force and actions in sparring.
I carried it back to the elder. He recorded it on a bamboo slip and said, "One week."
I nodded. That was more than enough. Reading hardly took 3-4 days, but mastery required years of training and enlightenment.
As I left, I recalled the five stages of proficiency of each technique: Beginner, Small Success, Intermediate, Great Success, and Perfection.
Tonight, the Flowing River Sword would be the first step on my true path.