First Cultivation of Dou Zhi Qi

At the age of four, Xiao Yan could finally embark on the path of cultivation.

His meridians had taken preliminary shape, enough to withstand the circulation of Dou Qi. Though they were still fragile and needed to be guided slowly in the gentlest manner, at least—he could begin.

That day, after Xiao Zhan finished handling the clan affairs, he passed through the long corridor and crossed the threshold into the rear courtyard.

Autumn lay heavy in the courtyard. More than half the leaves on the old locust tree had turned yellow, and whenever the wind blew, they spiraled down, laying a thin carpet across the ground.

When he looked up, he saw his child, who had just turned four, sitting properly on a stone bench in the courtyard, his back ramrod straight and his hands neatly resting on his knees.

Morning sunlight fell across his profile, making those bright black eyes appear especially luminous.

Those eyes stared straight at Xiao Zhan, their seriousness wholly unlike that of a four-year-old child.

"Father, please teach me how to cultivate Dou Zhi Qi."

His voice was not loud, yet every word landed with force, clear and resolute.

Xiao Zhan froze.

He had originally intended to wait a few more months, until spring arrived, before officially letting Xiao Yan embark on the path of cultivation.

For one thing, the weather would be warmer. For another, he had wanted to straighten out the clan's affairs and free up enough time to teach him personally.

He had not expected Xiao Yan to be even more impatient than him, taking the initiative the moment he turned four.

He walked over to Xiao Yan and crouched down. The four-year-old sat on the stone bench, putting them at eye level.

Xiao Zhan reached out and stroked his son's soft hair with his broad palm, the warmth of his hand passing through the strands.

"Yan'er, are you sure?" There was amusement in his voice, along with a trace of probing. "Cultivation is very hard. You have to get up before dawn every day to meditate, circulate your cultivation method over and over again—it's terribly tedious. And—"

His tone paused slightly, and his gaze grew more serious.

"And effort does not always guarantee results. On the road of cultivation, talent matters more than hard work. Some people cultivate bitterly for ten years and still cannot compare to a genius who cultivates for one month. Are you sure you can bear that kind of gap?"

Xiao Yan nodded.

There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. He did not even blink.

His little face was filled with seriousness and determination.

Of course, he knew cultivation was difficult.

What he knew even better was how brief the window for talent was.

The earlier one began on the path of cultivation, the firmer one's foundation would be.

Which of those experts standing at the peak of the continent had not begun tempering their Dou Qi from childhood?

Those so-called late bloomers were merely making up for the gap they had fallen behind in during childhood.

Besides, he had a countdown in his heart.

Seven years later, Yao Lao would awaken.

By then, the Dou Qi he had painstakingly cultivated would be drained clean by that black ring, leaving him with only three stages of Dou Zhi Qi.

That meant he had only seven years to accumulate strength, to improve, and to push himself to the highest possible starting point.

After seven years, when his cultivation fell, he would have to rebuild a towering structure from the ruins.

So he had to use these seven years, while Yao Lao was still asleep, to lay his foundation as deeply as possible.

Just like building a house: the deeper the foundation was dug, the higher the structure above could rise.

Moreover, he possessed an advantage that the ordinary Xiao Yan did not—Soul Power.

Exceptionally strong Soul Power meant keener perception of Dou Qi, deeper understanding of cultivation methods, and more precise control over his body.

If he did not make use of that advantage early, then waiting until his cultivation fell seven years later and he had to start over would be far too late.

In this world, time was the fairest thing, and also the cruelest.

Everyone had twelve two-hour periods in a day, but how much one could accomplish in those twelve periods, how far one could travel, depended on talent, effort, and—how efficiently one used time.

Xiao Yan did not want to waste even a single day.

Xiao Zhan looked at the bright black eyes of his son for a long time.

He saw light within them.

It was not the innocent brightness unique to children, but a fiercer, deeper radiance.

He recognized that light—he had seen it in the eyes of true experts, in the eyes of warriors tempered by life and death, and in the eyes of people willing to give everything for a goal.

He had simply never expected to see such light in the eyes of his four-year-old son.

Seeing this, Xiao Zhan did not refuse. Instead, he began teaching Xiao Yan how to draw the scattered Dou Qi of heaven and earth into his body and transform it into Dou Zhi Qi.

Xiao Yan thirsted for every trick his father taught him about cultivating Dou Zhi Qi. Like a parched sponge meeting water, he greedily absorbed every scrap of knowledge.

Xiao Zhan explained it only once, yet everything concerning meridians, acupoints, and the circulation routes of Dou Qi was etched into his mind, distinct and clear as words printed on paper.

In less than a few minutes, he had memorized every incantation and circulation route by heart.

"Yan'er, how much did you remember? Do you need me to repeat it?"

Xiao Zhan looked at Xiao Yan and spoke.

"I remembered everything." He opened his eyes and answered calmly.

Xiao Zhan fell silent for a moment and did not question him further. He took out a meditation cushion, placed it in the sunniest spot in the courtyard, and patted Xiao Yan on the shoulder.

"Then begin. Don't rush when sensing Dou Qi for the first time. Take it slowly, and do not be discouraged if you cannot sense it. Most people need several days, or even a week—"

He did not finish.

Because Xiao Yan had already sat cross-legged on the cushion, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. His entire body seemed wrapped in a transparent shell, quiet and focused.

Deep between his brows, that extraordinary Soul Power slowly began to spill forth, like mist rising from a mountain valley—silent, yet unstoppable.

Xiao Yan suddenly "saw."

Not with his eyes, but through another, purer form of perception—as if a crack had opened in the center of his brow, and the world poured in through an entirely new way.

Multicolored energy filled his surroundings: blazing red, sharp green, weighty gold. They intertwined while remaining distinct, like countless invisible rivers flowing through the air.

Instinctively, he directed his perception toward his father.

That area of space was dark cyan, so dense it was almost black. Cyan energy coiled and tangled there like undercurrents churning at the heart of a whirlpool before a storm, every fluctuation concealing a heart-palpitating power.

That was the wind-attributed Dou Qi his father cultivated.

Xiao Yan did not lose himself in amazement.

He calmed his mind and followed the method his father had just taught him, guiding his thoughts as he tried to pull a thread of energy from heaven and earth into his body.

The instant the first wisp of Dou Qi entered his body, it was like a warm trickle seeping in through his skin, climbing through his meridians and slowly advancing along the route his father had marked out.

Wherever the warm current passed, a faint tingling spread through his limbs and bones, like frostbitten fingers soaking in warm water during winter, or a parched throat in the desert receiving its first drop of sweet dew.

The warm current steadily weakened within his meridians, absorbed bit by bit by his body. At last, the remaining essence followed the route into his dantian.

Deep within his dantian, that faint energy, so weak it was nearly imperceptible, floated quietly like the first lamp lit in a dark wilderness.

This is Dou Zhi Qi?

Xiao Yan silently repeated the name in his heart, unable to stop the corners of his lips from lifting slightly.

From this moment onward, he finally possessed the foundation to establish himself on the Dou Qi Continent.

His joy lasted only a moment.

He soon settled his mind again and continued drawing in the Dou Qi of heaven and earth, absorbing it into his body thread by thread.

The Dou Zhi Qi in his dantian slowly gathered. Each additional wisp felt like an experience bar jumping up another notch. That clearly perceptible sense of growth was intoxicating, impossible to stop.

Time slipped quietly away amid his concentration.

Only when his mental strength was exhausted and a needle-pricking fatigue rose from deep within his mind did he have no choice but to stop.

When he opened his eyes, the setting sun had already dyed the blue bricks of the courtyard a warm gold.

Obvious exhaustion hung on his little face, and faint shadows darkened beneath his eyes, but the light dancing in those eyes was brighter than the sun overhead.

"Dad, I have Dou Qi now."

Xiao Zhan was stunned.

He had already prepared to comfort his son—taking several days, or even a week, to sense Dou Qi for the first time was perfectly normal.

He had even prepared his words, intending to tell Yan'er not to rush and to take it slowly.

But that one sentence choked back all his preparations.

Xiao Zhan strode forward, gripping Xiao Yan's shoulders with both hands. A powerful stream of Dou Qi flowed from his palms into his son's body as he carefully examined him.

The Dou Qi traveled once through Xiao Yan's meridians and indeed encountered a faint resistance at his dantian—that strand of Dou Zhi Qi belonging to Xiao Yan was instinctively rejecting the intrusion of outside power.

Xiao Zhan's hand trembled slightly.

"My son Xiao Yan has the potential to become a Dou Zong!"

Xiao Zhan's face was filled with excitement as he spoke.

Xiao Yan immediately froze when he heard that. That was not something one could say casually!

The last person who said that had his son farmed like a monster by the protagonist!

Naturally, Xiao Zhan had no idea what Xiao Yan was thinking. The excitement on his face soon calmed, replaced by the purest pride and delight of a father. Those emotions spread openly across his face, even making his eyes burn slightly.

"As expected of my son." Xiao Zhan's voice steadied, every word firm and forceful. "One day, you will surely surpass me and become a true expert."

He reached out and patted Xiao Yan on the shoulder, the warmth of his palm passing through his clothes.

"From now on, you must cultivate even more diligently and never slack off."

Xiao Yan straightened his back, met his father's gaze, and answered one word at a time, "Yes. I will definitely not disappoint Father's expectations."

On the boy's youthful face, something fiercer than Dou Qi burned in those eyes.