Cultivation isn't merely about seclusion and relentless practice day and night—it's not a path that guarantees rapid progress on its own. In truth, worldly experience and battles are just as important. That's one of the reasons Emperor Zhuang established the Merit Ranking—to encourage cultivators to complete various missions. It wasn't because the court was incapable of handling those matters, but rather because such trials significantly enhanced cultivation efficiency. This wasn't unique to the Zhuang Kingdom either; all nations and sects had similar systems.
Take, for example, the battle in Xiaolin Town. After slaying the vengeful spirit, over a dozen new Dao Seeds emerged within Jiang Wang's Heavenly Palace. These weren't formed through regular meridian training, but were instead born naturally in the aftermath of fierce combat, like echoes settling into form.
Dao Seeds are the perfect fusion of intent and force—a true reflection of life's essence in harmony with the origins of heaven and earth. They are the foundation of power and the root of all transcendence.
That's why Zhao Rucheng had invited everyone out for drinks and courtesans—because as cultivators, one must live a full life.
Someone like Ling He, upright and restrained, naturally refused to join in such debauchery. Instead, he volunteered to pick up Jiang An'an from school that day and take her out to play.
Du Yehu was more than happy to go, and Jiang Wang, though he hesitated, only gave a half-hearted refusal under the excuse of needing to look after An'an. But Zhao Rucheng quickly "arranged" for Ling He to take over, and everyone was left satisfied.
Another tag-along was Huang Azhan. He had been drinking with Du Yehu when he heard of the outing and practically clung to Du's leg to come along. Fortunately, Zhao Rucheng was wealthy enough not to mind a few extra guests.
They went to the finest brothel in Maple Forest City—Three Petals of Fragrance Pavilion. The most extravagant private room. The most expensive courtesans.
Since Jiang Wang had moved out to live with An'an, they hadn't spent much time together outside the Dao Academy. After a few rounds of drinks, Jiang Wang politely asked the courtesans to leave.
"Hey, hey, don't go!"
"Sister, oh beautiful sister, I'll go home with you!"
Naturally, that was the now red-faced, tear-streaked Huang Azhan. He had downed drinks with every single courtesan at least seven or eight times and was clearly drunk. He clung to them, unwilling to let go, as if he longed to give up his virginity right then and there. The courtesans only giggled and slipped out one by one.
They were cultivators, after all—it was unlikely any of them would truly act recklessly. Before opening their Heavenly Gates, it was important to preserve one's primal essence.
So Jiang Wang remained sober throughout.
Du Yehu, in truth, just wanted to drink—it didn't matter where or with whom.
Only Huang Azhan lingered, reluctant to let go. He looked to Zhao Rucheng for help. In his eyes, Zhao was a kindred spirit. But Zhao merely shook his head. The courtesan he had wanted hadn't shown up, and he sighed in disappointment. "Mediocre and vulgar... utterly boring."
"What do you mean, vulgar? Vulgar?!" Huang Azhan nearly jumped to his feet. "Those cups—no, those dresses—no wait, those hairpins—so white…"
He trailed off into sobbing. "Ugh… How is that vulgar?!"
Jiang Wang: "…"
Zhao Rucheng: "…"
Du Yehu smacked him on the head. "You're drunk—go to sleep. You can have anything you want in your dreams."
Ignoring the snoring Huang Azhan now slumped over the table, Jiang Wang spoke up, "I've done a few odd missions recently—picked up fifteen merit points. Add that to the twenty-five I'd saved up, that's forty. I don't need to use them right now, so I'll transfer them to you guys. Whoever has enough can exchange for a Pulse-Opening Pill first."
By "you guys," he meant Zhao Rucheng and Du Yehu—and of course Ling He, who wasn't present. They were all close brothers, so there was no need to rank or prioritize. The one with the most merit should go first.
The external manifestation of Dao Veins was a huge step—the first step toward transcendence. The sooner, the better.
"Not for me," Zhao Rucheng drawled lazily, half-reclined on his chair. When it came to cultivation, he had always been a passive genius—coasting on talent alone.
"I don't need it either," Du Yehu said, downing another cup. Then suddenly, "I'm leaving."
"Leaving? Where to?" asked Jiang Wang.
"Remember how Wei Yan asked me to join the army? I've thought it over for a few days—made up my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow."
The announcement was abrupt. Zhao Rucheng sat up straight. "Tiger Bro, you better be sure about this."
"I am." Du Yehu grinned. "Wei Yan said I'm better suited to a martial path. I agree."
It was true. Jiang Wang and Zhao Rucheng knew that Du Yehu had an extraordinary physique—robust blood and qi, a perfect candidate for martial cultivation. But Zhuang Kingdom was heavily centered around Daoist cultivation. True martial cultivators were rare.
Even the kingdom's de facto military commander, General Huanfu Duanming, was a Dao cultivator. The country lacked the ecosystem for other schools—especially martial ones. Even Wei Yan himself practiced Daoist arts.
If Du Yehu chose this path, he would face a long road ahead without a coherent training system, relying only on fragmented martial cultivation methods.
Not that martial cultivation lacked power. But Zhuang Kingdom had stayed at peace under Yong Kingdom's watchful eye largely thanks to the Daoist establishment. Without its backing, the court wouldn't stand tall—unlike the more inclusive Qin or Chu Kingdoms. Zhuang could only walk the Daoist path.
And yet, Jiang Wang couldn't bring himself to object. He understood Du Yehu too well. The man had a fire in his heart—fierce and wild. He was proud and defiant, unwilling to fall behind. But the Daoist texts bored him to death; they simply weren't his path. His body and blood, on the other hand, were true gifts. In another land—one that favored martial cultivation—he'd be seen as a genius.
"Who's Wei Yan recruiting you for?" Jiang Wang asked.
"The Xuan Armor Division of Jiujiang has a lot of vacancies. Maple Forest City was assigned a few slots, and Wei Yan thought I'd be a good fit."
Apparently, Du's boldness and straightforwardness suited the military. After the mission at Xiaolin Town, he and Wei Yan had become friendly.
And the Xuan Armor Division of Jiujiang… That was the pride of Zhuang Kingdom—its deadliest force, even more feared than the White Feather Guards who defended the capital.
In fact, because of the Xuan Armor Division, Jiujiang was often called the kingdom's de facto fourth province. Though officially under Daishan Prefecture, it operated with great autonomy. Its city lord was also the commander of the Xuan Armor, a tradition dating back to the founding of the kingdom—proof of its special status.
"Even if you're joining the Xuan Armor Division, you'll still need merit points," Jiang Wang said, already planning to give his points to Du.
"No need." Du Yehu shook his head—not out of pride, but simply being himself. With a carefree air, he added, "Since I'm walking the martial path, I don't plan on using a Pulse-Opening Pill. I'm going to open my Dao Veins the old-fashioned, traditional way!"
That tradition meant relying on one's own blood and qi—not pills—to force open the Heavenly Palace and manifest the Dao Veins. It was now considered "ancient" because only one in a thousand succeeded. At best, failure meant becoming crippled; at worst, instant death.
Most people already pushed their limits with two daily sessions of meridian training, refining blood and condensing Dao Seeds. But to amass a vast torrent of qi and blood and blast open the Heavenly Palace in one go? That was insane.
And it was exactly this danger that led the martial community—those madmen—to revere it as true orthodoxy.
Those who succeeded reaped immense rewards. Martial cultivators who opened their Dao Veins this way were often stronger than anyone else.
Jiang Wang and Zhao Rucheng both fell silent. They could feel the old tiger's resolve.
"So give your merit to the big guy," Du Yehu said lightly. "I'll give mine to him too."
Then he grabbed the wine jug and chugged half of it.