Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today -- Complete!

Weiheng Wu’s peak rushed up. Descending to the earth at the base of the clearing, Weiheng Wu stepped off his sword and let go of Hui. Hui stumbled, half-expecting his knees to give out again, but aside from a slight light-headedness and a bit of a wobble, he was fine. He turned his hands over, then patted his abdomen down. The bleeding had ceased, and as he watched, his wounds closed over. Those pills are effective!

Weiheng Wu reached out for his neck, head tilted. Hui jerked back. Master, what—?

Scales shifted against his neck. Weiheng Wu ran a finger over Zhubi’s head. “I see you’ve chosen a pet.”

“Ah? Yes, I… Zhubi and I met on the peak the other day.” Hui snorted at himself. I forgot he was around my neck.

“Mm. I also like to keep pets. Take good care of him,” his master ordered.

“Of course, of course,” Hui agreed.

Weiheng Wu cast a glance at the pill furnace to the side. “I see you have no talent with pill-making.”

Hui blinked. “It—it’s only been a day, Master. I haven’t had the chance to try yet!”

Weiheng Wu paused, then nodded. “Then, as you will.” He turned toward his sword, which hovered at ankle-height, awaiting him.

“Master, wait!” Hui called.

One foot on his sword, Weiheng Wu looked back.

“Do—do you have any lessons to impart to this small disciple? Any… magical techniques, or… body cultivation tips, or—or sword skills?”

Silently, Weiheng Wu shook his head.

Ah. Well, it makes sense. He said he didn’t have time to use the pills in the second stage, right? A genius like him probably hurtled through Foundation Building in a single month, or something equally ridiculous. Of course he wouldn’t have techniques suited for such a low level of cultivation.

Hui bowed respectfully. “This small disciple thanks Master for saving me.”

“Mn. Stay quietly on this peak for a while. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough.”

He bowed again. “This disciple hears and obeys.”

Nodding once, Weiheng Wu stepped on his sword and swept away into the sky.

Hui squinted after him, raising a hand to watch him go. I wonder where he vanishes off to. Some kind of sacred land? His immortal cave, perhaps?

Shaking his head, he let his eyes drop back to earth. Now that I have a manual, I should stay put and cultivate diligently. I don’t need to provoke anyone more than Master already has.

Ah, but Qin Xixing’s pills…

They’ll still be there in a month or a year or so. There’s no rush. So thinking, he settled into a cross-legged position and began to circulate his qi following the instructions in the manual.

Ten or so hours later, Hui released a long-held breath and broke his meditation pose, utterly exhausted. Was it always this hard to kill my qi? I still haven’t succeeded. Is it because I’m not in danger? He shuddered. Don’t tell me, I can only cultivate when I’m near death or in a life-and-death situation…?

No! I can’t give up yet! I’m not a freak. It’s only been a few hours! I can figure this out! Stretching, Hui settled back into his pose. He focused inward. This time, he sat quietly, watching his qi flow.

It circulated through his body, through his two opened meridians and into his dantian. He followed his instincts and clenched down on it, trying to cut it out. Every time he focused on a section of his dantian or passageways, qi slid past in all the other directions. His mental energy quavered, unable to hold his qi out.

I don’t have enough mental energy. He focused on his mind instead of his qi. Extending his mental energy inward, he felt his body, his muscles and organs, the flow of his blood. Slowly, he expanded it beyond his body, into the centimeters beyond his skin.

Pain assaulted his mind. Hui flinched back, eyes opening. He rubbed his head. Alright. First, focus on my mental energy. Then work on circulating my qi.

He drew out the manual and flipped through. Is there anything in here for mental energy?

No inspiration struck. The densely packed words remained cramped unreadably on the page. No images flew through his mind.

Guess I’m back to trying my best. He settled in again and slowly expanded his mental energy. This time, he stopped just before it began to hurt and held it there. Sweat broke out on his brow. He regulated his breaths, one in, one out. His focus wavered.

Hui broke his focus and drew a sharp breath. Five breaths. I’ll work on it.

Days passed. Weeks. Rain pounded on his shoulders, and sunlight dried it. Darkness and daylight chased each other across the sky. He opened his eyes again as a wave of mental energy spread from him, chasing out impurities. Again, he projected his mental energy beyond his body, testing its new boundaries. It only stretched a few centimeters, as before, but this time he could hold it for ten breaths before a stabbing pain forced him from his meditation. I didn’t manage a breakthrough, but it’s better than before.

Turning his mental energy inward, he clamped down on his dantian once again. This time, he closed off his passageways in one fell swoop. His qi faded from his passages. He focused on his dantian, where his trapped qi shifted restlessly. Pushing outward with his mental energy, he bled his qi off into his surroundings, just as he had in the library. Time passed. Day passed into night, and still he focused on bleeding qi away. For every drop he pushed out, a new drop materialized. I need to do this faster! It’s not fast enough.

“Zhubi, bite me,” Hui said.

Zhubi hissed questioningly.

“I think… I might really be a freak,” he sighed, exhausted with himself. “You know? Special constitutions are a thing, right? What if I have a special constitution that can cultivate better when I’m near death?”

Zhubi drew up to his full height and looked at Hui. He tipped his head.

“Just… bite me? In the neck, please.”

Zhubi did a little wiggle that almost looked like a shrug and struck. Pain bit into Hui’s neck.

Instantly, his qi slowed. Hui clasped a hand against his neck and sunk down. Wait, I forgot. Zhubi’s venom affects qi flow!

No, no, that’s exactly what I need! Turning his focus inward, he clamped down on his dantian again. This time, he bled his qi away more quickly than it could replenish itself. The qi in his dantian diminished steadily, falling away.

Sweat ran down his back. His head ached. The pain faded as the sensation from his body faded. His muscles lost the strength to hold him upright. He slumped further, drooping toward the ground.

This is it! Further and further he pushed, down to a single spark. The spark began to fade. With it, his life faded. Sensation diminished. His vision dwindled.

Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

The spark blinked. Hui’s heart skipped a beat.

Hui released his hold on his dantian. Qi rushed in, filling the void. He circulated it desperately, protecting his passages. The spark strengthened to a flame, no longer flickering. His dantian expanded, but not enough. Too much qi rushed in, so much he couldn’t handle it.

I need to open another meridian!

He shoved at his meridian with his qi and mental energy. The meridian twitched, but no more. More power! Hui stopped circulating the wild qi pouring into him. He gathered it in his dantian, filling it overfull, until it strained to bursting. Swirling his mental energy, he drew it together, then blasted it at the meridian all at once.

The meridian burst open. Hui circulated his remaining qi through his newly opened three meridians. Regulated by three meridians, his qi quieted once more.

Hui opened his eyes, sucking a deep breath. His breath caught in his throat. He coughed and spat a blob of impurities and Zhubi’s venom into the grass beside him.

Concerned, Zhubi hovered close by his face, reptilian eyes watching him.

Shaking his head, he broke out into a smile. “We did it, Zhubi!”

Zhubi hissed a happy hiss.

Hui fell back into the grass, tired. Though he didn’t need much sleep at the second stage, Zhubi’s venom left his qi sluggish, which, in turn, made him sleepy. He yawned. I almost killed myself for real, again. Playing dead is one thing, but dying is another step entirely! Can I really cultivate this method?

He drew out the manual. Defying Death, Defying the Heavens, it blared back at him. He laughed once, quietly. Still as audacious as I remember.

Sliding the manual back into his robes, he flopped his arms out to either side of him. He closed his eyes. I need a nap. I'll figure all this mess out... tomorrow.