The failure of the Celestial Forge, with its shattered stone blade, had left Li Wei with a bittersweet sense of progress—his qi strengthened despite the physical cost to his already frail body. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to affirm the warmth in his dantian—a warmth he believed was his nascent Golden Core, nurturing a fledgling Nascent Soul. Azure Dragon, his scruffy spirit beast, remained a loyal companion, curled by the stone altar as Li Wei pored over the scroll, its worn bamboo slats a sacred guide through his trials. The scroll's latest passage unveiled a dynamic new challenge: "The Spirit Tide, where the cultivator rides the surge of heaven's qi, testing the endurance of body and soul."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, spiritual tides were often depicted as overwhelming waves of energy—cosmic forces that tested a cultivator's ability to channel and withstand divine power. The scroll's description was more poetic but equally compelling: "When the tide of qi rises, let the soul ride its crest. Endure the surge, for it purifies the path to eternity. Falter, and the spirit drowns." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and moments of clarity, felt a surge of anticipation. His earlier encounter with the Celestial River had prepared him for flowing energies, but this tide seemed more intense, a test of resilience. His body, ravaged by hunger, fever, and the throbbing infections in his hand and arm, ached with every movement, but the valley's mystical aura and the scroll's promise fueled his determination.
Li Wei prepared with the reverence of a sailor bracing for a storm. He reinforced his altar with smooth stones, their surfaces carved with star-like patterns inspired by the Starstone to channel the valley's qi. He placed the scroll, jade slip, Starstone, and stolen booklet at the altar's center, surrounded by the ancient tree's glowing blossoms, their light pulsing like a beacon against the coming tide. Azure Dragon watched, head tilted, as Li Wei sipped the valley's crystal-clear water, its coolness a fleeting relief against his persistent fever. The scroll suggested a meditative trance to "ride the tide," so he chose a twilight hour, when the valley's energy felt most vibrant, to begin.
As the sky deepened to a violet hue, Li Wei sat by the shimmering pool, its surface reflecting the first stars. He held the Starstone in one hand, the jade slip pressed to his chest, and chanted the scroll's incantations, their rhythmic tones blending with the valley's whispers and the gentle lapping of the pool. He focused on his dantian, visualizing his Golden Core as a radiant star, its light ready to merge with the tide of qi. The scroll urged him to "embrace the surge," so he imagined his Nascent Soul—a glowing figure—standing on the pool's surface, poised to ride an incoming wave of energy. The warmth in his dantian pulsed, and he felt a subtle shift, as if the valley's energy was gathering, preparing to unleash the tide.
Hours passed, his body trembling from the strain, his fever intensifying, the pain in his infected hand and arm throbbing with each heartbeat. The warmth in his dantian surged suddenly, a powerful wave that felt like a flood coursing through his meridians. In his trance, the valley faded, replaced by a vision of a vast, shimmering tide—a sea of radiant qi crashing toward him, its waves towering like mountains. His Nascent Soul stood firm, riding the crest, but the force was overwhelming, threatening to sweep him away. A voice, resonant and commanding, echoed: "Can your spirit endure the tide?" Li Wei's qi flared, his chants growing louder, but his body faltered, the fever spiking as dizziness gripped him. He visualized his Golden Core anchoring him, but the tide's power was relentless, and he collapsed by the pool, gasping, Azure Dragon whining and nudging his face.
The Starstone felt warmer, as if infused with the tide's energy, and the warmth in his dantian pulsed stronger, clearer, as if the surge had purified his qi. Had he truly ridden the Spirit Tide, or was it another delusion born of fever and exhaustion? The scroll promised purification but warned of drowning, and Li Wei chose to believe he'd endured, even at a cost. He scribbled in his notebook, hands trembling: "Spirit Tide endured. Qi surges, soul rides. Body falters, path purifies." The valley's whispers seemed to approve, their murmurs blending with the breeze, the ancient tree's blossoms glowing brighter.
During the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei shared the experience, describing the towering waves and his Nascent Soul's ride. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, called it a "divine surge," urging him to brew an elixir with the pool's water to stabilize his qi. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, praised his resilience but insisted he seek medical care: "The tide strengthens the soul, but the body must endure." Chen Xiu saw it as proof of ascension, while Zhao Feng, skeptical, suggested it was a fever dream, sparking a heated debate that tested Li Wei's leadership. He hid his worsening fever and the throbbing pain in his wounds, fearing their concern might fracture the sect's unity.
As dawn broke, Li Wei sat by the pool, the Starstone warm in his hands, Azure Dragon snoring softly. The scroll promised that the Spirit Tide purified the path, but also warned of greater trials. The valley's energy, his sect's support, and the scroll's guidance bolstered him, even as his body weakened. With his Golden Core and Nascent Soul pulsing as beacons, Li Wei felt ready to face the next challenge, his spirit riding the tide of qi, one surging wave at a time toward immortality.