Hou Niao's cultivation had found its proper course, and his progress could be called a thousand miles a day.
Of course, a thousand miles a day was only his own impression, compared with his former tortoise's crawl. To a true cultivation genius, such progress would have been nothing special, merely a normal pace of cultivation, far from astonishing.
The pulse movement realm was an easy realm to pass through in the first place. By the principle that progress grew harder the higher one's realm, there was no realm simpler than pulse movement. Nor could a cultivator spend his whole life endlessly swallowing saliva, only to become a saliva immortal in the end.
According to the Daoist texts, newcomers to cultivation generally remained in the pulse movement realm for one to three months. Those who finished within a month were geniuses; those who took more than three months were fools. Someone like Hou Niao, who had been delayed for several years at a stretch, did not even qualify as a fool. In the Daoist Sect's words, such people were simply unsuited to cultivation.
Now, everything was on the right track.
Of the three Daoist books Daoist Chongling had given him, he chose Dragon-Tiger Convergence, which began with the lower dantian. There was no particular reason. He had merely tried every qi gathering cultivation method and found that Dragon-Tiger Convergence worked best, slightly better even than Joining the Same, Tracing the Source and Supreme Lord Daoyin.
Normally, if an experienced elder or a Daoist Sect teacher were present, they would choose a direction for qi gathering based on each person's particular aptitude, temperament, and spiritual-root inclination. This laid the foundation for the future, so faster was not necessarily better.
But he had no one to guide him. Moreover, by cultivation standards, he was no longer young. He had to win back the time he had lost, so he could only cultivate whichever method was fastest.
Chongling had given him three cultivation methods, two for cultivating the middle dantian and one for the lower dantian. The preference was already obvious: he was telling him that cultivating the middle dantian was best. This was also the Daoist Sect's approach to cultivation. Most of them began their cultivation journeys with the middle dantian.
It was also the standard starting point for spell cultivators.
The middle dantian lay at the Shanzhong point in the chest and was called the "Crimson Palace," the region around the pit of the chest, where ancestral qi gathered. Some also placed it at the Juque point, also known as the Spirit Terrace. Measured upward from the genitals, it lay at a point equal to the torso's length multiplied by 0.618.
The middle dantian lay at Shanzhong, along the descent from Chengjiang through the twelve-storied tower to the Yellow Court. The Cowherd represented the heart as yang, while the liver, gallbladder, and spleen each performed their own duties, jointly tilling the heart's field. Hence the saying: "My household tills its own field alone, where spirit seedlings may live ten thousand years. To irrigate, draw on the upper valley's spring; one day, when practice and merit are complete, a Great All-Encompassing Immortal of Penglai you shall be."
The lower dantian lay at the Guanyuan and Shenque points on the conception vessel, three inches below the navel, and was the place where essence was stored-roughly the area around the navel. The Yinjiao, Qihai, Shimen, Guanyuan, Shenque, Mingmen, and other points in the abdomen below the navel were all also called "dantian."
The lower dantian was the true dantian, below the navel, sometimes called the sea of qi, the place where life was stored.
When people generally spoke of keeping the mind on the dantian, they meant the lower dantian. This area was most closely connected to the body's vital activities. Located at the center of the body, it was the starting point for the circulation of meridian qi through the conception, governing, and penetrating vessels. The twelve meridians also received qi into their own channels directly or indirectly through the dantian, before passing it into their corresponding organs.
The lower dantian was the base from which true qi rose and fell, opened and closed, as well as the place where men stored essence and women nourished a fetus.
The ancestor of innate nature and life, the source of vital qi, the foundation of the five viscera and six bowels, the root of the twelve meridians, the meeting place of yin and yang, the gate of breath, the land where water and fire converged.
Spell cultivators favored the middle dantian, while body cultivators preferred the lower dantian. Entering the Dao through martial arts, formidable fighting strength, and ease of learning were all advantages of cultivating the lower dantian. But in manipulating spells, understanding the purple mansion, and moving inner mysteries, it fell somewhat short of cultivating the middle dantian. These were different choices, with no real distinction between good and bad.
In his haste to make progress and recover lost time, Hou Niao could not concern himself with these things. He would cultivate faster first; time waited for no man.
Five days later, the black-canopied boat left the Divine Capital's territory. Another twenty days took it across Xinyi Continent, and fifteen days after that, it was nearly out of Pelican Continent. Next came the border continent, White Sand Continent, at whose northernmost end lay the border city of Liuyang City.
Several days earlier, Old Qi and his son's black-canopied boat had begun following a large passenger vessel. It carried nearly a hundred passengers and had three decks, cutting a very imposing figure. Waterways crisscrossed the Anhe Kingdom, so its shipbuilding industry was naturally well developed. Passenger vessels like this were nothing unusual in Anhe City; there were even larger ones.
Since they were traveling upstream, and the winds at this time of year were unfavorable as well, they relied mostly on poles and sculling oars, which was hard work for the boatmen. Experienced boatmen could save themselves some effort by following behind another vessel. This, too, was a skill for those who lived off the water.
Over the next few days, when the large vessel moved, they moved; when it stopped, they stopped. Theirs was not the only small boat doing so. Several small boats followed behind the large passenger vessel to share in its advantage, strung together in a rather amusing line.
At dusk that day, the large passenger vessel stopped beside an isolated ferry landing, and the small boats moored one after another. Old Qi lit a fire and cooked, and they ate a very simple meal: nothing more than flatbreads bought ashore and a freshly cooked pot of fish soup.
Hou Niao did not mind any of this. He thought it was excellent. The ingredients were fresh, caught right out of the river, and that surpassed any cooking technique.
A good mood made for a good appetite; everything tasted delicious.
After clearing away the bowls and chopsticks, Old Qi handed him two balls of cotton. "Sir, once it gets dark, plug your ears with these cotton balls, would you? Don't take them out even when you sleep. You can only remove them after daylight tomorrow."
Hou Niao was surprised. "Why?"
Old Qi looked grave. "Starting today, we've entered the Jade Water stretch of the river. There's a kind of water demon here that never appears by day and only comes out at night to harm people;
"They don't come ashore, either. They only prey on travelers aboard passing passenger boats. Once night falls, they sing beside the boats. Their songs are very beautiful. If someone can't hold firm, they'll walk into the water of their own accord, knowingly or otherwise, and become their prey.
"That's why you need to plug your ears. It's the best way to reduce the song's bewitching effect."
This was the first Hou Niao had heard of such a thing. He did not seem to have heard of any such creatures in the Qingtang River near Fufeng City. Perhaps different waterways had creatures with different abilities?
"If the sound gets into your ears, I'm afraid cotton balls won't block it completely, will they?"
"It'll still be much better. Please don't take it lightly. I know you've read a great many books, but this isn't something reading a lot can solve."
Hou Niao accepted the cotton balls. He could not refuse the boatman's kindness. "What kind of song could be so alluring that it makes travelers throw themselves into the river?"
Old Qi spoke solemnly. "It isn't necessarily singing. I once heard a knowledgeable Daoist say that this sound is something different in different people's ears. It varies from person to person.
"For a scholar, it's his name on the golden list, high honors in the spring examinations; for a merchant, it's business opportunities pouring in, chances too good to miss; for an official, it's promotion and riches, descendants for ten thousand generations; for a general, it's storming cities and taking strongholds, deciding victory a thousand miles away...
"In short, whatever you long for most, that's what you'll hear. Instead, it's lowly boatmen like us, with no grand ambitions and little knowledge of the world, who are less affected. All we want is enough food and clothing for the whole family."
Hou Niao finally understood. The realm arose from the heart!
"Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to put them in tonight."
Night fell, and Hou Niao continued cultivating. How could I possibly plug my ears with these things? Ordinary people might, but if I, a cultivator of the Dao, lack even this much self-control, what Dao am I cultivating?
After a bout of cultivation, he put the matter out of his mind.
Once he had finished cultivating, he was concentrating in quiet contemplation when, faintly, what seemed like immortal music drifted toward him, bringing an extraordinary sense of comfort.
...Coalesce the true beyond heaven and earth; sever thought before silent solitude. With form, yet empty and boundless; forgetting form is nature itself. Open the scripture in the age of Renzi; encounter the Dao in the year of Jiashen. Wheeling clouds follow the dance tunes; flowing waters pursue the singing strings. Stone marrow smells as sweet as rice; chambers of lingzhi are crisp as lotus. Halt the luan birds and feast by Jade Water; the homeward path ascends the vast heavens.