Root Damaged

Li Tui returned to his room, barred the door behind him, and stood in the dark with his back against it for a long while.

It felt like a fire was burning inside him. Not warmth—scorching heat. The pill's toxicity still lingered in his meridians, and every circuit of his qi scraped them raw. Worse, his qi was surging too violently to control. If it kept up, his meridians would split within two hours.

He let out a breath, moved to the bed, and sat down. Then he closed his eyes and began circulating the Wood Essence Qi-Guiding Technique.

The moment the technique started, the qi tainted by the pill went berserk, surging even more violently. The gentle wood-element qi tangled with the pill's fiery poison, and every collision made his vision darken with pain.

Li Tui groaned. Cold sweat slid down from his temple.

He had reached the limit of the Qi-Guiding stage. He should have been nourishing his meridians, waiting until they were ready before opening the main channels. But now this damned pill was driving his qi into unopened acupoints, each impact harder than the last.

If it kept pounding away, his acupoints would collapse. But if he forced the qi down, it would reverse course and wreck him just the same.

Li Tui wiped the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Ordinary people at this stage could only grit their teeth and endure. But he refused to accept that.

He stared into the darkness before him.

The qi the pill had stirred up was far more powerful than anything he'd cultivated himself. If he could ride the current and use it to break open his acupoints...

He'd take the gamble.

Li Tui drew a deep breath, banished every stray thought, and focused his mind inward.

First, he located the acupoints that the qi had been battering.

Then, instead of suppressing it, he began to guide it with utmost care. He slowly gathered the surging qi, twisted it into several streams, and sent them toward the acupoints.

At the same time, he brought his own qi around each acupoint. That would keep them from breaking under the force, while also letting him add a push at the crucial moment.

It was delicate work. One careless move, and the backlash would hit him.

The first was the Qingling acupoint in his left arm.

The qi slammed into it.

A dull thud rang out. The acupoint wall shuddered violently, but did not open. Li Tui's throat went sweet, and more blood welled up. Gritting his teeth, he eased off the force and switched to gentler qi, slowly grinding away at it.

After three rounds of grinding, he struck again a fourth time.

Crack—the acupoint wall split with a fine hairline fracture.

He kept grinding patiently. On the seventh try, he gathered all the qi into a single stream and drove it forward with all his strength.

The acupoint opened.

Scalding, stinging qi surged into his left arm. Li Tui had no time to recover; he immediately turned to the next one.

The Fengshi acupoint in his right leg.

This time, it took even more effort. He summoned every last bit of qi he'd been saving, joined it with the pill's remaining power, twisted it into an even fiercer stream, and slammed it into the acupoint.

It opened.

But the blow had been too powerful. The shockwave rattled several nearby minor meridians, which felt ready to tear apart. Li Tui spat out a mouthful of blood, his vision blackening as he nearly toppled over. He forced himself to steady his body, then used what little gentle qi remained to nourish the newly opened acupoint and calm the quivering minor meridians.

With both main acupoints open, his qi flowed much more smoothly.

But before he could even catch his breath, the pill's remaining fiery poison, having lost its target, began burrowing into the most fragile peripheral meridians.

Li Tui's heart sank.

The peripheral meridians were too fine to withstand the burning poison. If they were ruined, his qi would hurt every time it passed through them. His path of cultivation wouldn't be completely severed, but he'd be crippled all the same.

Gritting his teeth, he drew in every last bit of qi he could still control. Using the clumsiest method, "Returning to the Origin," he slowly enveloped and refined the poison as it ran wild.

The process was slow and agonizing, like sifting sand out of a pot of boiling oil.

Half an incense stick later, the last trace of fiery poison had been refined away.

Li Tui opened his eyes and spat out another mouthful of black blood. His face was utterly drained of color, and his whole body trembled violently.

Both main acupoints were open, but the cost had been too high. The fiery poison had burned his peripheral meridians, leaving them stinging with pain. His spirit was exhausted too; his temples pounded like drums.

He knew he couldn't let these injuries linger.

It wasn't even dawn yet. He braced himself against the wall, stood up, and staggered out, making his way toward Zhao Minglai's quarters.

Zhao Minglai had just gotten up and was wearing an outer robe. The moment he saw Li Tui enter in that state, his brows drew tight.

"Your hand."

Li Tui held out his wrist.

Zhao Minglai placed his fingers against it and sent a thread of qi into him. He needed only a moment to examine him before his expression darkened.

"Foolish!" He withdrew his hand, his voice edged with anger. "Who told you to do this? You used such impure external force to force open your acupoints. Don't you know what state your meridians are in?"

Li Tui lowered his gaze and briefly explained how Zhao Yuanchong had made him test the pill.

Zhao Minglai said nothing when he finished. He paced around the room twice, then went to the cabinet, rummaged for a while, and took out a coarse pottery jar. He set it down on the table.

"Liqi Powder," he said coldly. "It might help your qi flow a little more smoothly and ease some of the pain. Don't expect anything else."

He glanced at Li Tui. Whatever expectation he'd once had in his eyes was gone, replaced by distance—and even a hint of irritation. "You've damaged your foundation this time. The fiery poison has burned your peripheral meridians. Cultivating from now on... will be difficult."

Li Tui said nothing. He picked up the jar and opened it. Inside was a grayish-brown powder mixed with bits of grass stalk, and it smelled pungent.

He poured some into his palm and swallowed it.

The powder was bitter and astringent. Once it went down, a faint, lukewarm current spread through him. The burning pain in his peripheral meridians seemed to ease a little, but it was only a drop in the ocean.

"Thank you, Teacher." He bowed, suppressing his dizziness.

Zhao Minglai waved a hand. The meaning was plain: hurry up and leave.

"You're the one I brought in. I can't ignore it when something happens to you," he said, sitting back down and watching the flame of the oil lamp, his voice flat. "But you need to remember a few things."

"Your cultivation foundation is the most important thing. Recklessly chasing quick results like this is ruining your own future. Be more careful from now on."

"Keep serving the Third Young Master if that's what you're doing, but know your place. Don't entertain thoughts you shouldn't have."

His words were blunt, even harsh. Whatever bond they'd had as teacher and student shattered completely beneath them.

Li Tui stood where he was, expressionless, and replied only, "This disciple understands."

He understood.

Zhao Minglai's attitude had changed. Before, he'd been fairly courteous because he saw some talent in Li Tui. Now that he knew Li Tui's foundation was damaged and he was no longer useful, he'd withdrawn that courtesy and was keeping his distance.

That was how the world worked. People treated you well only when you were useful.

Zhao Minglai no longer looked at him. He waved for him to leave.

Li Tui turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

The corridor was cold and dark. He slowly made his way back. The medicine in the Liqi Powder was starting to take effect inside him, but the pain in his meridians and the emptiness in his spirit remained.

He lowered his gaze to his hands. They were still trembling.

Too weak.

Weak enough that a single pill, a single forced experiment, could ruin the road ahead.

Weak enough that once people decided you had no value, they couldn't even be bothered to keep up the pretense of kindness.