The encounter with the wild boar had left Li Wei shaken but triumphant, his belief in the scroll's promises stronger than ever. The fleeting moment when the beast had paused, as if responding to his qi, felt like a victory over the primal forces of nature. Yet, the physical toll of his mountain life was mounting—his body was gaunt, his hands scarred from labor, and the lingering effects of the "Forbidden Fasting Technique" left him weaker than he cared to admit. The scroll, his unwavering guide, now pointed to a new challenge: "Opening the Meridians," a process to unblock the body's energy channels and allow qi to flow freely, a critical step toward Foundation Establishment. Li Wei, emboldened by his recent trials, was ready to face it, even if it meant pushing his battered body further.
Back in his clearing on Mount Tai, Li Wei prepared with the solemnity of a monk entering a sacred rite. The scroll described the meridians as invisible pathways, twelve primary channels through which qi circulated, each tied to an organ and a facet of the spirit. Opening them required precision—specific acupuncture points, intense focus, and a willingness to endure pain. The text warned of "blockages" that could cause discomfort or even harm if forced, but Li Wei saw pain as just another tribulation, a crucible to refine his path to immortality.
He lacked the traditional tools of a cultivator—no jade needles or spiritual artifacts—but necessity bred ingenuity. In the village, he'd traded a day's labor with Old Chen for a few yuan, which he used to order a cheap acupuncture kit from an online marketplace, delivered to the village's lone post office. The kit arrived in a flimsy cardboard box, containing a set of thin steel needles, a poorly translated instruction manual, and a diagram of the body's meridian points. Li Wei studied the diagram under the flickering light of his campfire, cross-referencing it with the scroll's more poetic descriptions: "The Governing Vessel ascends the spine, the Conception Vessel cradles the core." He marked the points on his body with a charcoal stick, his hands trembling with a mix of anticipation and dread.
The scroll recommended starting with the Governing Vessel, a meridian running along the spine, said to connect the body to the heavens. Li Wei chose a clear morning, the air crisp and the forest quiet, to begin. He sat cross-legged before his stone altar, the scroll open beside him, its bamboo slats worn from constant handling. The "Spirit Root Herbs" were arranged in a protective circle, their silvery leaves catching the sunlight, giving the clearing an almost mystical glow. He took a deep breath, steadying his qi, and inserted the first needle into the base of his spine, at a point the scroll called "Gate of Life."
The pain was immediate and searing, like a hot coal pressed against his skin. Li Wei gasped, his vision blurring, but he forced himself to focus, chanting the scroll's incantations to guide his qi. "Flow through the vessel, unblock the gate," he whispered, visualizing a stream of light traveling up his spine. The warmth in his dantian stirred, faint at first, then pulsing in rhythm with his chants. He inserted another needle, higher up, at the "Jade Pillow" point near his neck. The pain intensified, a sharp throb that made his hands shake, but he gritted his teeth, determined to endure.
Hours passed, the sun climbing higher as Li Wei worked through the points along his spine. Each needle was a battle, the pain a constant companion, but with it came fleeting moments of clarity—bursts of warmth that felt like rivers breaking through dams. His notebook, open beside him, filled with frantic scribbles: "Gate of Life opened—sharp pain, qi flows stronger. Jade Pillow resists, but warmth spreads." He ignored the beads of sweat rolling down his face, the dizziness creeping in, and the faint redness around the needle sites. This was the path, he told himself. Pain was the price of immortality.
By afternoon, his body screamed for respite, but Li Wei pushed on, driven by the scroll's promise: "When the meridians open, the spirit soars." He inserted a final needle at the "Hundred Meetings" point atop his head, where the Governing Vessel was said to connect with the cosmos. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot spike that made him cry out, startling a flock of birds from the trees. But then, something shifted. The warmth in his dantian surged, spreading through his chest, his arms, his legs, like liquid fire cleansing his veins. For a moment, he swore he saw sparks dancing around him, faint and ethereal, like the visions from his fasting ritual.
Exhausted, Li Wei collapsed beside the altar, the needles still protruding from his skin. His vision swam, and a feverish heat gripped him. Was this the meridian opening, or had he pushed too far? The scroll hadn't mentioned infections, but the redness around the needle sites was unmistakable. He pulled the needles out with trembling hands, wincing as blood trickled from the punctures. Panic flickered, but he banished it, clinging to the scroll's words: "Pain is the forge of the spirit." He bandaged the wounds with strips torn from his shirt, drank from the nearby stream, and lay back, staring at the sky.
That night, he shared his experience with the Order of the Jade Dawn during their video call. Zhang Wei, the alchemy enthusiast, was awestruck, bombarding him with questions about the sensations. Liu Mei, the meditative MoonlitCrane, warned him to rest and cleanse the wounds, citing her knowledge of herbal medicine. Wang Hao, ever the skeptic, grunted, "Sounds like you stabbed yourself for nothing," but even he seemed impressed by Li Wei's tenacity. Li Wei smiled weakly, his body aching but his spirit alight. "The meridians are opening," he told them. "I can feel it."
As he slept under the stars, the scroll beside him, Li Wei dreamed of rivers of light coursing through his body, connecting him to the mountain, the sky, the universe. The pain was real, the infection a worry, but the warmth in his core was undeniable. He had taken another step toward immortality, and no amount of suffering would deter him. The heavens were watching, and he would prove himself worthy.