Chapter 22

To leap from the second to the seventh layer of Qi Refinement, honestly, Wen Xu didn’t feel much change. He had simply opened the Manifestation of All Things Art and comprehended how wind could influence all living entities.

Suddenly, what was once the abstruse and perplexing first technique, “Beginning of All Life,” seemed remarkably simpler to him. It felt akin to when he took the imperial examination; if the examiner mistakenly handed him a candidate-level test instead of the novice one, despite his diligent study, he would have struggled to understand it. However, after his epiphany, receiving the correct novice exam allowed him to proceed smoothly.

The seven days passed so swiftly that, to Wen Xu, it felt like mere moments. When he opened his eyes, he heard Shizun’s voice filled with delight: “Impressive! Achieving enlightenment during your first cultivation session, already at the seventh level of Qi Refinement.”

Only then did Wen Xu examine his dantian internally, confirming that indeed five more seas of qi had formed within it, each significantly larger than before. As he tried manipulating his internal spiritual energy, he found it flowed tenfold smoother compared to earlier.

Wen Xu’s heart swelled with joy. “Many thanks for Shizun’s guidance,” he said gratefully. He had taken another significant step toward achieving the Gold Core stage.

Divine Venerable Cheng Wei waved his hand with a smile. “No problem at all. However, your cultivation has advanced swiftly while your physical skills have yet to catch up. Which do you prefer—sword, spear, staff, or axe?”

Wen Xu pondered briefly before shaking his head honestly. “This disciple does not have any particular preference.”

Despite Divine Venerable Cheng Wei’s seemingly unreliable demeanor as a dragon, those who truly knew him were aware that he was remarkably perceptive. In fact, he only displayed this attentiveness when he deemed it necessary. For instance, now, many on Yonglu Mountain—including several high-ranking elders—believed he took on a disciple merely out of boredom, questioning whether he would seriously commit to teaching them.

In truth, he was quite traditional at heart. Having accepted this reserved disciple, he felt compelled to break through the young one’s guarded nature—a task he found both intriguing and challenging. “I see. A-Xu, could you tell me about your experiences in the mortal realm?” he asked gently.

Confused, Wen Xu replied, “What does Shizun wish to know?”

“Ah, shouldn’t this master have some understanding of his only direct disciple? You see, I’m over a thousand years old and you’re my first apprentice. As a novice mentor, I must navigate by feeling my way along, so isn’t it natural for me to ask?” Divine Venerable Cheng Wei casually sat down, suppressing his aura once more until he appeared just like any ordinary person.

At least, that’s how it seemed through Wen Xu’s face-blind eyes.

Taken aback, Wen Xu hastily waved his hands. “No, this disciple didn’t mean that; it’s just…I don’t know where to begin.” Few people had ever shown interest in his past.

Sensing that the young man might be deeply starved for affection, Divine Venerable Cheng Wei casually rested his cheek on one hand and suggested, “Then let’s start from…when you learned to read and write. A-Xu, were you a scholar in the mortal realm?”

“How does Shizun know?”

“Hmm, others often say your Shizun here has keen insight into human hearts. Shouldn’t you believe them?” In truth, despite being born with an emperor’s destiny, this little guy’s fate was heavily suppressed. Consequently, there lingered around him traces of scholarly qi, indicating his acquired learning efforts.

Wen Xu, initially convinced, now found himself slightly doubting those claims.

“You’re correct, Shizun. When I was in the mortal realm, indeed, I was a scholar.”

“Did you achieve any scholarly honors?”

“At eighteen, I became a candidate for civil service.”

Ah, my disciple turns out to be a celestial scholar! No wonder he grasped the Manifestation of All Things Art so swiftly. Who knew being a scholar before cultivation could confer such advantages? If this news spread, I fear many shameless elders might secretly venture to the mortal realm in search of promising disciples.

“I’ve heard that scholars in the mortal realm must appear physically healthy and without impairments. Were you not pretending to be blind back then?” Divine Venerable Cheng Wei asked thoughtfully. Balancing studies while concealing his extraordinary eyesight must have been arduous—yet Wen Xu managed it quite successfully. Cheng Wei began to truly admire his disciple’s resilience.

Wen Xu instinctively wanted to deny it, but before he could speak, his shizun continued, “A-Xu, don’t casually dismiss your hardships and efforts. By doing so repeatedly, even you might overlook aspects deserving attention.”

Taken aback, Wen Xu momentarily forgot what he intended to say.

“All right, all right, this master won’t keep you chatting any longer. In cultivation, balance between intensity and relaxation is key for sustained progress. Go play with your little friends; if you don’t soon, there’ll be no space left on the gate for more message talismans.”

As Divine Venerable Cheng Wei turned to leave, he suddenly remembered something and circled back. “Nearly forgot—since you have no preference, let’s start with sword training. Don’t worry about specific techniques; just visit the Hidden Merit Pavilion and choose what suits you. Your shizun doesn’t possess those low-tier sword arts.”

Wen Xu was momentarily speechless… His Shizun truly came and went like the wind.

Upon reflecting carefully on their conversation, Wen Xu felt a sudden sense of relief. He exhaled deeply, his admiration for Shizun growing by several degrees despite himself. Well, aside from the fact that Shizun has enemies scattered across the world, actually… Okay, maybe deduct one degree after all.

Having composed his thoughts, Wen Xu finally took notice of the message talismans at the door. Most were from Bian Chunzhou, whom he read attentively before descending Six-Sermons Peak to meet up with his friends. Coincidentally, upon arrival, he stumbled right into Lin Congcong causing trouble for Chunzhou.

Perhaps emboldened by his encounter with Shizun just moments ago, Wen Xu found himself unusually assertive for once. Upon reflection, being occasionally forthright wasn’t inherently wrong.

At least, offending Lin Congcong wouldn’t significantly impact him now. Wen Xu generally preferred to treat others kindly, not because he was inherently virtuous or polite, but simply…out of habit, to avoid trouble and prevent making enemies.

But in that moment, he realized he was no longer merely a solitary scholar. Now, within the cultivation world, he had become a newly minted cultivator in the Qi Refinement stage.

With this thought, he directly responded to Chen Zui’s invitation to spar: “Shizun said my physical abilities haven’t kept pace with my cultivation yet. He advised me to visit the Hidden Merit Pavilion first and find some sword manuals to practice.”

Chen Zui furrowed his brow. “Why sword manuals? Blade techniques… Alright, you indeed don’t seem like someone who’d wield a blade.” Just like Bian Chunzhou, neither of them exhibited any traits typical of a swordsman.

“Sword techniques are so cool! Don’t mind Wen Xu, I know where all the sword manuals are in the Hidden Merit Pavilion; let’s go together,” Chen Zui offered enthusiastically.

Chen Zui had no interest in sword techniques and didn’t need to visit the Hidden Merit Pavilion for any cultivation methods or blade arts. Thus, he decided not to accompany them. Judging by his departure with sword in hand, it seemed likely that he was returning to practice.

“Actually, Chen Zui has also reached the seventh layer of Qi Refinement,” Bian Chunzhou whispered discreetly. “But seeing you at the same level today must have really irked him.”

Scroll Kings, all Scroll Kings. Initially, Bian Chunzhou intended to cultivate at a leisurely pace, but being surrounded by these relentless, almost reckless cultivators inevitably affected his mindset. Despite his optimistic nature, he couldn’t bear falling behind while everyone else surged forward.

Wen Xu fell silent for a moment before asking, “Bian Chunzhou, is there anything I can assist you with?”

Bian Chunzhou was about to dismiss it, then reconsidered—why pretend toughness in front of his trusted friend? “Well…there’s quite a lot, actually. How’s your literary knowledge, Wen Xuxu?”

It seemed Wen Xu understood immediately. “Chunzhou, do you want me to help you with your studies?”

“Could you?” (OvO)

“I believe so. To be honest, when I was still in the mortal realm, I spent several years studying.”

Bian Chunzhou let out a surprised sound. “But your eyes…”

“I wasn’t born blind.”

“Ah?”

“Shizun said it relates to my destiny,” Wen Xu once again invoked this versatile excuse.

Bian Chunzhou uttered a couple of “ahs” and promptly dropped the matter. “So you’ve studied for several years?”

Wen Xu slightly pursed his lips. “Mm, about ten or more.”

Wow, a scholar from ancient times—must be a master of linguistic analysis! Bian Chunzhou swooped over eagerly, “Help me! I can’t understand my cultivation technique!”

No wonder Chunzhou’s cultivation hasn’t progressed at all, thought Wen Xu silently.

The Hidden Merit Pavilion prohibited noise, so instead of rushing there immediately for sword manuals, Wen Xu decided to accompany Bian Chunzhou to Meditation Peak nearby. They found an immortal’s cave to conduct a private one-on-one tutoring session.

“Um, would you mind teaching another disciple as well?” Bian Chunzhou discreetly raised a finger.

Confused, Wen Xu asked, “Chen Zui?”

Bian Chunzhou snapped his fingers. “Exactly, we’re two unfortunate comrades-in-arms.”

Wen Xu remained speechless.

Soon after, Chen Zui arrived with his blade in hand. The trio sat facing each other, and Wen Xu took a deep breath before beginning, “Firstly, I need to understand why exactly you both struggle with comprehending your cultivation techniques. Is it because you don’t recognize the words, or…”

“I recognize them, yes,” Bian Chunzhou continued. “And after these few days of intensive training from Six-Sermons Peak, I can roughly guess the surface meaning of cultivation techniques. But what I don’t understand is their direct connection to… spiritual root cultivation.”

Chen Zui’s situation differed slightly from Bian Chunzhou’s. “My technique is just too complex; I can’t seem to grasp it.”

The number of times Wen Xu was rendered speechless today far exceeded his entire lifetime thus far.

He gathered his thoughts before speaking again. “Firstly, let me share some personal insights on cultivation. They may not be entirely accurate, but you can consider them broadly.”

Bian Chunzhou nodded eagerly like a pecking chick. “Go ahead, go ahead.”

Chen Zui also gave a serious nod.

“Cultivation is an intensely individual pursuit, much like studying literature. Everyone reads the classics—the Four Books and Five Classics—but how much one learns and comprehends depends on personal effort, guidance from a mentor, rather than simply repeating or memorizing texts. Moreover, each person has a unique understanding of those very same classics.”

“However, when it comes to cultivators’ practice, there seems to be a slight difference. Now, by ‘seems,’ I don’t mean uncertainty; rather… it appears that cultivation is a state that cannot truly be conveyed through words or writing.”

Bian Chunzhou couldn’t agree more. “Yes, yes, exactly! I’ve felt the same way! The techniques in the Hidden Merit Pavilion are all convoluted and profoundly obscure; not a single one speaks plainly.”

“That’s true,” Wen Xu concurred. After a moment of hesitation, he continued, “Even with the technique Shizun gave me—much like yours—it was the same. From the moment I received it until breaking through to the seventh layer of Qi Refinement, my shizun never once asked about my understanding or insights regarding the technique.”

Their breaths suddenly caught. Something flashed through Bian Chunzhou’s mind, but it was too swift—he couldn’t grasp it in time.

“So, I suspect—and this is just a guess—that cultivation techniques primarily aid in practice, serving as tools to help our spiritual roots absorb spiritual energy from heaven and earth. However, since every individual is unique, then—”

“Differences among individuals!” Bian Chunzhou couldn’t resist blurting out.

He was wrong! He had been mistaken all along—reversing the importance of cultivation techniques and his own innate abilities. Those TV dramas had misled him, with their tropes like “the protagonist discovers an unparalleled cultivation technique, suddenly emerges as unstoppable, and becomes unmatched by any.” Or how everyone would vie for a single martial arts manual, claiming that whoever obtains XX will dominate the world. Consequently, he had always placed undue emphasis on the significance of cultivation techniques.

However, Wen Xu’s words now enlightened him. Techniques were indeed important, but not to the extent that they should be prioritized above everything else. They were meant to support one’s spiritual roots and aid personal cultivation; he couldn’t stake all his hopes solely on a technique.

Cultivation techniques, mysterious yet profound, written like heavenly scriptures, served as a reminder to aspiring cultivators that mastering them required a harmonious integration between oneself and the technique!

It wasn’t about rigidly following instructions; rather, it demanded adaptation and customization. The technique should adjust to suit him, not the other way around—he shouldn’t strive tirelessly just to comprehend its form and conform to it!

“I’ve realized it! So that’s how it is! No wonder I could never grasp the entry point!”

His thinking had been too simplistic, treating cultivation like a step-by-step process or a problem-solving exercise where the cultivation technique provided the solution strategy. He believed that once he obtained this strategy, he could undoubtedly solve the complex puzzle.

But it wasn’t like that. Even with mathematical problems, there were various methods of solution—functions, geometry, sequences, conic sections—all leading to the same answer through different paths. He shouldn’t force himself to grasp Water and Fire in Conjunction in what he believed was its most correct manner.

There is no single “most correct” solution; only the approach best suited to him exists!

Every cultivator’s spiritual roots differ; how could identical cultivation techniques accommodate diverse roots? No wonder these texts aren’t written for universal comprehension—it would simply be meaningless. Instead, they risked leading people astray. It made sense for them to be crafted as they currently were.

Bian Chunzhou suddenly fell silent, holding the jade slip containing Water and Fire in Conjunction, and slowly closed his eyes.

“He has entered a state of sudden enlightenment,” Wen Xu observed.

Confused, Chen Zui looked at Wen Xu. “Could you repeat what you just said?” He too wished to experience such an epiphany.

Wen Xu thought to himself, If I’m playing music to cattle, even the cows seem more responsive than you.