No More Than Cultivation Resources

Dawn broke.

In the West Courtyard training room, more than twenty youths sat cross-legged on their cushions, backs ramrod straight.

Instructor Zhao Minglai stood at the front with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over each young face like an eagle's. He was thirty-five or thirty-six, with thick brows and bright eyes. His indigo training clothes and the bronze token at his waist marked him as a member of the Zhao Family. At the fifth level of Qi Refining, he was more than qualified to teach these children who had only just begun.

"Cross your legs and turn your five centers toward the heavens." His voice wasn't loud, but each word landed like a nail driven into wood. "Be off by a fraction, and your energy will veer an inch from its path."

Several youths hurriedly adjusted their postures, their cushions rustling against the floor.

Zhao Minglai's gaze settled on the left side of the third row and paused briefly.

The youth's posture looked unfamiliar, yet on closer inspection, it had a certain grace.

"Interesting." The thought flickered through his mind, though his expression remained unchanged. He paced over and scrutinized the youth from above.

The youth was Li Tui.

At that moment, he was trying to refine the essence within his body.

"Empty your mind. Forget your form and focus on your intent." The low voice drifted into his ears.

Standing beside him, Zhao Minglai continued, "Feel the essence gathering from your limbs and bones, like streams flowing into a river, and rivers flowing into the sea. This is the starting point of refining essence into qi, and the foundation for guiding qi into the body later on."

Li Tui followed his instructions, slowing his breath as his consciousness sank into his dantian.

Darkness.

Pure, empty darkness.

Then a speck of light appeared deep within his spiritual platform. A cool, refreshing breath slowly descended from his crown, like a trickle of early spring snowmelt, flowing along his meridians.

Where it passed, his tired muscles relaxed, and his parched acupoints were moistened.

True qi.

In his previous life, this breath had never remained in his body for more than three breaths before dissipating. But now—

Five breaths.

Six breaths.

Seven breaths.

It actually completed one full cycle before slowly dispersing.

"Not bad."

Zhao Yuanlai's voice sounded by his ear. Li Tui opened his eyes at just the right moment, his face showing a carefully measured blend of confusion and delight.

"How does it feel?"

"A little cool," Li Tui replied, his voice still rough with youth, though his eyes were clear. "I can't hold on to it. It disappears after a while."

Zhao Yuanlai nodded slightly. "Sensing qi on your first try is already no small feat. Keep practicing, and you'll get there in time."

Then he turned and walked toward the next youth without saying more.

That was enough. There was no need to stand out too much.

At noon, the dining hall was fragrant with rice and stewed meat.

Beside the long wooden tables, the youths hunched over their coarse pottery bowls and shoveled in their food. Each also had a small bowl of spiritual rice porridge, its grains glistening with a faint fragrance.

Li Tui sat in a corner, eating slowly.

"Wang Yuan."

The voice came from beside him. Li Tui didn't look up. He continued putting rice into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before glancing over.

It was Huang Bao, who had entered the estate in the same batch as him. He was thin and sallow, with dark circles under his eyes—the unmistakable signs of essence depletion after several days of failing to enter meditation.

"I... I can never get the Refining Essence Technique right." Huang Bao rubbed his hands together, keeping his voice low. "Instructor Zhao has shown me twice, but I still can't feel the qi being refined."

He paused, his gaze flicking to the untouched bowl of spiritual rice porridge by Li Tui's hand.

"I saw how quickly you learned... Could you... teach me?"

Li Tui set down his chopsticks.

He said nothing, only watched Huang Bao quietly. His gaze was calm, yet it gave Huang Bao an inexplicable chill.

"Didn't Instructor Zhao teach you?" Li Tui finally asked after a long silence.

"He did, but I... I'm stupid." Huang Bao's face flushed. "If this keeps up, I won't even pass the assessment at the end of the month..."

His voice caught.

Li Tui continued watching him impassively. Those eyes reddened with desperation, that awkward, helpless look—they reminded him of himself in his previous life.

But so what?

"Why should I teach you?" Li Tui asked, his tone as casual as if he were asking about the weather.

Huang Bao froze. He opened his mouth, but words like "we're from the same hometown" and "we should help each other" seemed pale and ridiculous beneath Li Tui's calm gaze.

Silence spread between them.

The clamor of the dining hall grew indistinct and distant. Sweat beaded on Huang Bao's temples as his chance slipped through his fingers. The youth before him had a coldness that didn't suit his age.

Huang Bao gritted his teeth and lowered his voice further. "I... I'll give you all my spiritual rice for the next few days. I'm only asking you to teach me."

Li Tui's gaze shifted.

He picked up his bowl again, brought a piece of food to his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Unhurriedly.

"The Zhao Family gives you spiritual rice to help you cultivate," he said only after finishing. "If you give it to me, what will you cultivate with?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm slow to learn, so eating it would just be a waste." Huang Bao grabbed Li Tui's sleeve and pleaded urgently, "Take it for now! If you manage to teach me, I'll share my spiritual rice with you from then on, too!"

A childish bargain.

But it worked. At the end of the day, Li Tui had only a C-grade aptitude. There could never be too many cultivation resources.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll give you half an hour after practice each day," Li Tui said slowly. "I'll only take your spiritual rice for seven days. If you still haven't learned by then, don't come looking for me again."

Huang Bao trembled all over with joy. "Thank you, big brother! Thank you..."

"And one more thing," Li Tui cut him off. "Don't tell anyone about this. If someone asks, say we're just fellow townsmen studying together."

"I understand! I understand!"

Li Tui said no more. He picked up the bowl of spiritual rice porridge and drank it in one go.

The gentle spiritual energy dissolved in his stomach and flowed along his meridians.

Seven days' worth of spiritual rice in exchange for a few hours of instruction. A fair deal. Neither of them owed the other anything. Whether Huang Bao could learn was not something he needed to consider.

The sunlight outside slanted westward, stretching his shadow across the mottled brick wall. The shadow was silent and thin.

As Huang Bao thanked him profusely, Li Tui made no response. He stood, returned his bowls and chopsticks, and stepped out beneath the corridor.

The bright, crisp voices of youths playing drifted over from nearby, full of carefree vitality. They reached him, then faded, like sounds heard through thick colored glass. Li Tui could hear them, but he couldn't join in.

Friendship? Gratitude?

Li Tui had never needed things that couldn't be seen or touched.

What he wanted had always been clear.

No more than cultivation resources.