He sat cross-legged on the bed and regulated his breathing for a while. Once it had steadied, Shen Hui let his consciousness sink into the Parchment Interface.
[Dao Xing]:1465 (Available to Allocate)
He stared at the number for a moment, considered it briefly, and made up his mind.
His fire technique had already reached a minor level of mastery. The other four elements were only at the introductory stage, but that was more than enough to deal with ordinary demons.
His methods were sufficient, but his cultivation level was truly a little low.
At that thought, he focused his mind, and all 1,465 points poured into the realm column.
In an instant.
A surge of heat welled up from his Dantian, like water bursting through a dam, flooding his limbs and bones in an instant.
The meridians and acupoints that had felt faintly sluggish on ordinary days were opened one by one. Spiritual energy surged through the meridians throughout his body, flowing more than twice as fast as before.
He closed his eyes and looked inward. The streams of energy, once as thin as threads, had now gathered into trickling brooks, flowing slowly along his meridians.
The sensation lasted about the time it took to drink a cup of tea before gradually subsiding.
He opened his eyes and looked at the interface again.
[Realm]:Qi Induction (3361/10000)
He silently did the math.
If the Qi Refining realm was divided into three minor stages—early, middle, and late—each stage probably required a little over 3,300 points.
With 3,361 now, he had just barely passed the early stage of Qi Refining and entered the middle stage.
"Third Senior Brother and Fourth Senior Sister are only at the middle stage of Qi Refining, too."
He murmured to himself, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly before he forced them back down.
I mustn't get conceited, he warned himself.
Then he composed himself and shifted his attention to the bottom of the interface.
[Corpse Liberation Wheel]:1 (Available to Draw)
He pondered it for a while, figuring it was probably some sort of lottery mechanism.
"Corpse liberation..."
In Daoism, corpse liberation referred to a cultivator attaining the Dao, abandoning their physical body, and ascending to immortality, leaving behind their clothes or corpse.
But this wheel was called the "Corpse Liberation Wheel." Could it help someone become an immortal?
He hesitated for a moment, then focused his attention on it.
The scene before him suddenly changed.
The ancient interface, like a sheet of parchment, vanished. In its place appeared a round wheel, somewhat like a compass, but not quite the same.
The wheel was a dull bronze all over, its edges badly worn. Strange patterns were carved into it, resembling wormholes, though he couldn't quite make them out.
The face was divided into many fan-shaped sections, each bearing words. The writing was too small and blurry to read clearly, no matter how hard he tried.
A raised button sat at the center of the wheel. The blood-red pointer was also made of bronze, worn smooth and gleaming, as if someone had pressed it many times.
"It really does look like a lottery," Shen Hui muttered.
He took a deep breath, gathered his consciousness, and pressed the button.
Creak—
The wheel began to turn.
But it turned with great reluctance.
It was like a rusted iron axle being forced around, each turn accompanied by a piercing, strange screech.
Shen Hui couldn't help frowning. He had the feeling the wheel might fall apart at any moment.
The wheel spun faster and faster, until the words on its sections became a blur of light and shadow.
After a while, it gradually slowed.
Creak... creak...
Each sound was slower and heavier than the last.
Shen Hui's heart tightened with every creak. He feared it would simply shatter before his eyes.
At last, the wheel stopped.
The pointer settled firmly on a section. The words there gradually came into focus, as if ink were seeping out from within.
Shen Hui peered closely.
Six large characters appeared, written with bold, flowing strokes:
[Dao Path: Corpse Condensation Sword Refinement]
Shen Hui sat frozen on the edge of the bed, staring at the new line on the interface. For a long while, he didn't move.
Dao Path?
His panel did have a column called [Destined Path], but it had always remained "Unrevealed."
He had once tried to ask his master indirectly: What was a Dao Path?
The Old Daoist had told him that a "Dao Path" was a cultivator's foundation, the great Dao upon which they would rely to establish their foundation, form their core, and eventually give birth to a Nascent Soul.
Some people were born with a Dao Path, while others needed to cultivate for many years before they gradually understood theirs.
And this "Corpse Condensation Sword Refinement"...
He repeated the four characters over and over, and his brow gradually furrowed.
This couldn't be some wicked, unorthodox path, could it?
The wheel on the interface slowly faded away, and the ancient parchment appearance returned.
Shen Hui stared hard at the four characters. The more he looked, the more he felt an evil air seeping from between the lines.
He tried focusing on them. The characters glimmered faintly, and a line of small text appeared beneath them.
[Condense and refine three life-bound swords; a cultivator's corpse is required as the catalyst] [Bone Sword • White Skeleton] Foundation Establishment cultivator (0/1) [Blood Sword • Red Calamity] Golden Core True Person (0/1) [Meat Sword • Rotborn] Nascent Soul True Lord (0/1) [Insufficient materials...]
Shen Hui's mouth twitched.
As expected, it was no respectable method!
He'd still held on to a sliver of hope that "Corpse Condensation Sword Refinement" might be a typo for "Spirit Condensation Sword Refinement," or perhaps another name for "Qi Condensation Sword Refinement."
But it really was corpse condensation...
And it required the corpse of a Foundation Establishment cultivator at the very least. Where was he supposed to find one?
Should he dig up someone else's ancestral grave? Or kill someone?
He did have a slight advantage when it came to digging up someone else's ancestral grave. After all, he had no ancestral grave in this world, so he couldn't be chosen as a target.
But he was now a member of Clear Wind Temple. If he actually did that, the ancestral tablets in the shrine might be at risk of retaliation.
He didn't think that was a serious concern, but his master would probably feel compelled to clean house when he found out.
As for killing someone...
He hadn't even reached the late stage of Qi Refining. Going after a Foundation Establishment Evil Cultivator would be walking straight into a trap, practically begging to be killed.
He felt at a loss for words. After a moment's silence, he reached up and rubbed his brow.
"I'll sound him out tomorrow."
He muttered to himself, "My master has seen a lot. Maybe he's heard of this 'Corpse Condensation Sword Refinement' method. And I need to ask about the Jadeite Gourd's origins, too."
He lay down and stared at the pitch-black ceiling beams.
So much had happened today: killing the White-headed Macaque, killing the old man, burning the mountain and burying the ashes, then drawing this strange thing.
He rolled over, his mind a tangled mess, like a ball of knotted thread with no end in sight.
"I'm done thinking about it."
He closed his eyes, pulled the quilt up, and at last tried to sleep.
The fireball suspended in midair gave a soft crackle at that moment, then abruptly went out.
But even after lying there for a long time, he still couldn't fall asleep.
He tossed and turned, throwing the quilt off and pulling it back over himself. The wooden bed creaked incessantly. Anyone who didn't know better might have thought he was up to some traditional craft again.
The truth was that scenes from the day kept flashing through his mind.
One moment, it was the old man's grotesque appearance as his head retracted into his belly; the next, it was the shrill wailing of the White Banner as it burned.
Then came the Black Wind sweeping past withered trees, white bones strewn across the ground, and the pile of minced flesh he had chopped to pieces.
He opened his eyes, stared at the indistinct ceiling beams overhead, and let out a long breath.
Could cultivators suffer from insomnia, too?
Forget it.
He simply sat up, crossed his legs, rested his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes.
If he couldn't sleep, he might as well cultivate.
After half a year of cultivating the Dao, sitting in meditation and refining qi had long since become a habit.
Fortunately, Shen Hui didn't find it to be a chore.
Once he quieted his mind, he could feel wisps of spiritual energy seeping into his body. It brought him an indescribable sense of calm.
The spiritual energy flowed slowly through his meridians, gradually filling them.
His scattered thoughts slowly settled with his breathing, like murky water left undisturbed until it grew clear.
The insects outside the window gradually fell silent. Now and then, a night bird called from the distant mountains.
Who knew how much time had passed? The first pale streak of dawn appeared in the eastern sky. The morning bell had yet to ring when he opened his eyes, rose, and washed up.