Taiyi True Qi

Song Yanqing's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'seems'? If there is, then there is. If there isn't, then there isn't."

Niu Youdao pointed at the paper in his hand, as if to say, Isn't it right there? Of course there is.

Song Yanqing immediately put on an enthusiastic expression. "Junior Brother, quickly write down all the poems your teacher composed as well. While we have some free time, we can properly appreciate them."

Niu Youdao shook his head. "Before my master passed away, he instructed me to cultivate properly at the Shangqing Sect, not to write this sort of thing."

"..." Song Yanqing was stunned for a moment, then said with an expression of exasperation at iron that refused to become steel, "Cultivation won't be affected by one or two days. Writing a little of this won't take much time."

Niu Youdao put on an innocent expression. "But I can't remember them all of a sudden."

"..." Song Yanqing was rendered speechless. In the end, he said helplessly, "You have nothing else to do anyway. Think carefully, and write them down as soon as you remember them. Let me have a look later." As he spoke, he carefully rolled up the paper in his hand.

Niu Youdao looked puzzled. "Senior Brother Song, my teacher said that a scholar was useless in a hundred ways. What use is there in writing this?"

Song Yanqing raised his brows and hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Junior Brother, I have my own use for it. Just write it down once you remember it. Your senior brother won't treat you unfairly. Oh, right—don't mention this to anyone else. Understand?" He looked as though he would not be held responsible for the consequences otherwise.

Niu Youdao, meanwhile, looked utterly uninterested in the matter and answered a different question. "Senior Brother, I want to cultivate the Shangqing Sect's techniques. I hope I can fly around like you soon."

Song Yanqing was a little displeased. "Do what I told you first!"

Niu Youdao seemed to be throwing a young man's tantrum. "Senior Brother, being cooped up here makes me restless. I might let it slip one day."

Song Yanqing narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Are you threatening me?"

Niu Youdao calmly replied, "I just feel that if I can fulfill my master's final wish sooner, I can also settle down sooner and recall the poems my teacher wrote. That way, I hope I can carry out what you instructed me even better."

Song Yanqing let out a cold chuckle. He scrutinized Niu Youdao from head to toe for a long while without speaking, discovering that this cheap junior brother was rather interesting. He possessed a maturity far beyond his years—he was bargaining with him. Then again, if the things this junior brother wrote could truly help him win his senior sister's favor, agreeing to it would not be impossible. So what if he cultivated? He was not afraid that this kid could overturn the heavens. The key problem was that whether this cheap junior brother could cultivate was not up to him.

Smack! After considering it briefly, Song Yanqing slapped Niu Youdao on the shoulder and gripped it. "Fine, it's settled. I'll put in a word for you about cultivation. There shouldn't be much of a problem. But if the things you write fail to satisfy me, I guarantee you won't have anywhere to regret it." He was not making an empty threat. Although there were matters he could not decide, the Song Family had great influence over the Shangqing Sect. If he truly wanted to find a way, arranging for Niu Youdao to cultivate would not be too difficult.

Having said that, he casually shoved him. With a bang, Niu Youdao fell to the ground and landed flat on his face.

By the time Niu Youdao climbed to his feet, Song Yanqing had already strode away. Wincing in pain, Niu Youdao pulled open his collar and looked at the shoulder that had just been gripped. Five bluish-red finger marks had already been left behind. The other man had deliberately taught him a lesson and had nearly crushed his shoulder bone; it was swollen and painful.

All along, Niu Youdao had not wanted to offend Song Yanqing and bring trouble upon himself, especially after learning about Song Yanqing's background. But why had he endured every hardship to come to the Shangqing Sect? Now that he had finally caught a glimpse of an opportunity, he naturally did not want to miss it. Unable to help himself, he had revealed a little of his edge and risked trying...

In its early years, the Shangqing Sect had numbered more than ten thousand disciples. Now there were only several hundred, so there were plenty of residences available.

After returning to his courtyard, Song Yanqing impatiently entered the study, took out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, and prepared to transcribe the lyric in his own handwriting. Only then did he realize with some bewilderment that he had forgotten to ask what the lyric was called. He therefore came up with a name himself and began writing.

Toward evening, Song Yanqing sought out a secluded mountain valley. After leaving the valley, he craned his neck and looked around. When his gaze fixed on something, a smile appeared on his face.

At the foot of the mountain ahead, a graceful figure stood silently before two newly raised graves. It was none other than Tang Yi.

The two graves contained Tang Mu and Situ Haoran, the two senior and junior brothers. To this day, the Shangqing Sect still had no idea what had happened to them, but from Tang Mu's words, they had sensed that the matter was far from trivial. Following Tang Mu's final instructions, they had kept the deaths secret, and not even the two tombstones bore their names.

Song Yanqing knew at a glance that Tang Yi was here. Sure enough, he straightened his clothes and hurried over. After calling, "Senior Sister," he respectfully bowed to each of the two new graves.

Once he had finished, Tang Yi furrowed her brows. "Junior Brother Song, what brings you here?"

"Senior Sister didn't think much of the poem I wrote last time." Song Yanqing turned around and offered her a scroll of calligraphy with both hands, grinning broadly. "This time, I racked my brains and wrote another lyric. I ask Senior Sister to appreciate it and offer your guidance."

Tang Yi was truly growing impatient with his pestering. How could she not understand his intentions? She had also heard about Song Yanqing's dissolute exploits in the pleasure quarters of the Capital City. But the Shangqing Sect now had to rely on the Song Family, and Tang Susu had repeatedly instructed her not to tear things apart and make everyone lose face. She was to understand the bigger picture and humor him a little. Regardless of whether anyone here had previously complained that Dongguo Haoran's entanglement with Shang Jianbo would implicate the Shangqing Sect, the fact was that once Prince Ning, Shang Jianbo, had died, the Shangqing Sect had even lost its final deterrent. The sect was now caught in a storm, and it truly could not afford to offend the Song Family.

She had no choice but to patiently accept Song Yanqing's calligraphy and unfold it. At first, she glanced at it absentmindedly, but after seeing what was written, her cherry lips could not help parting slightly. She read aloud, "When golden wind and jade dew meet, they surpass countless encounters in this mortal world... If two hearts remain together for a long time, what matter is it if they cannot be together morning and night..." After reciting it several times, she had become somewhat entranced.

Song Yanqing, observing her expression from the side, was overjoyed. He knew he had indeed moved this woman.

Usually, he did not dare stare at her face so rudely, but this time, while Tang Yi was distracted, he took the opportunity to feast his eyes at close range. Her coldly beautiful yet gentle face, her fair neck like a swan's, her graceful and captivating figure—especially her elegant, otherworldly bearing—were like a pure lotus standing alone amid the sullied mortal world. This beauty was beyond comparison with those so-called beauties dressed to the nines. It was precisely for the sake of this beauty that he was willing to remain in this wilderness. Otherwise, he would have returned to the bustling Capital City long ago. How could he have had the patience to endure the desolation of these mountains? Even if he wanted to leave, the Shangqing Sect could not stop him.

When she came back to herself, Tang Yi's bright eyes swept over the writing on the paper. "You wrote this lyric?"

Song Yanqing felt slightly guilty, but then he thought that Niu Youdao could not stir up any trouble. Even if word spread and that so-called down-and-out scholar learned of it, he could still make sure the man was unable to speak out. He therefore smiled and said, "This humble work has made Senior Sister laugh."

Tang Yi gave him a strange look. How could she not know what kind of person he was? It would be a wonder if he could write a lyric like this. However, mindful of his dignity, she did not expose him. She merely nodded and praised it as a fine lyric.

The two chatted as they left the place. After exiting the valley, they went their separate ways—most importantly, Tang Yi had refused to let Song Yanqing accompany her.

As soon as Tang Yi turned back, she had someone investigate whether Song Yanqing had received some letter or the like. In the end, there was no news in that regard. She only learned that Song Yanqing had gone to the Peach Blossom Spring that day. Thinking over the lyric again, Tang Yi was puzzled. Could that lyric really have been written by that profligate young master?

Clouds veiled the moon.

Within the Peach Blossom Spring, Niu Youdao sat cross-legged on the bed. His brows trembled incessantly, his heart was in utter turmoil, and the inside of his body was even more turbulent, like raging waves and stormy seas.

At that moment, the energy within his body was extremely disordered, to the point that even he could barely control it. The mysterious substances within his five viscera, six bowels, four limbs, and hundreds of bones seemed to have accumulated to a certain level. His flesh and blood could no longer contain them, and they rolled and surged within him without end, rising and falling like a sea of clouds.

Boom! In the end, his body seemed to emit a thunderclap from his imagination, shaking both body and soul. Amid the surging sea of clouds that crashed and rolled without end, a bolt of lightning seemed to be taking shape—or more precisely, a strand of true qi!

The process of evolution looked more like a chemical reaction. With his eyes closed, Niu Youdao's face faintly revealed an excited expression.

Who would have thought? I really didn't expect it. Just like in my previous life, I'm cultivating the same "Supreme Unity" technique. In my previous life, it took a full three years to cultivate my first strand of true qi, but now I succeeded in less than two months. The concentration of spiritual energy in this world clearly exceeds my imagination.

The strand of true qi was threadlike and frail, but the moment it appeared, it was like a true dragon swallowing clouds and exhaling mist. It twisted nimbly through the clouds, and the surrounding mist whistled as it gathered toward it. In no time, the surging sea of clouds within his body was swept away, completely absorbed by that strand of true qi.

After swallowing so much, the tiny, weak thing showed no sign of growing larger. Instead, it seemed even more vigorous, bursting forth with powerful energy. It connected with Niu Youdao's flesh and blood, and if he allowed it to run unchecked, the energy could even seep from his pores. This feeling of energy coursing through his flesh and blood clearly increased the vitality and strength of his physical body.

Before cultivating true qi, one only knew how to practice qi circulation and breathing, and could not sense energy moving through the meridians. Once true qi appeared, the body gained a real substance that could be sensed, though it was still gaseous. This was the origin of the term "true qi."

Only with a genuine, tangible sensation could one adjust and control it. Otherwise, there would be no way to begin.

Once the unruliness and upheaval within his body had calmed, Niu Youdao's expression also returned to normal. He began guiding the true qi through his meridians, and he was thoroughly familiar with this process. An ordinary person's meridians had many places that could never serve much purpose throughout a lifetime. They had been open when the person was first born, but as they grew up, the influence of their habits—such as the creation of turbid substances—caused most areas to become blocked or half-blocked. He had to circulate his qi and clear all the obstructions, making it easier to control his flesh and blood body with qi in the future, while also checking whether the structure of his meridians was particularly suited to cultivation.

The process was somewhat painful. After never encountering anything external for years, it was only natural that a sudden invasion would hurt. Wherever the true qi reached, it cleaned and squeezed its way through. Something resembling blood and filth gradually seeped from his pores, and the room slowly filled with a faint bloody, rank odor.