*Creak!*
At that moment, the door to the cultivation chamber in front of Qin Chen swung open, and three youths who had just finished their session stepped out.
"Young Master Chen, how about the three of us cultivate together this time?"
Each cultivation chamber in the tower was about ten square meters. To save money, some poorer commoner students often shared a room. Lin Tian and Zhang Ying, coming from influential families in the court, had no shortage of funds. Their offer was usually made to look out for Qin Chen.
"No need. You two find another chamber. I'll be cultivating for a long time this time," Qin Chen replied, naturally declining. This time, he was reshaping his meridians—any disturbance could ruin everything.
Lin Tian and Zhang Ying didn't press further and soon queued up for other chambers.
*Click.* The stone door of Qin Chen's chamber shut tight. The few students who'd been waiting outside for half a day turned green with frustration.
Inside, Qin Chen wasted no time and began his cultivation.
"My qi pool has already formed, and my meridians are set. To reopen all twelve meridians, I must break them down and rebuild them."
He stripped off his shirt, revealing a lean frame, then swiftly retrieved the eighteen freshly forged Heavenly Meridian Divine Needles. Pinching one between his right index and middle fingers, he focused on his lower abdomen and, with a flash, drove it into the Shenque acupoint at his navel.
His hands moved like a blur, a phantom dance, as he plunged two more needles into the Guanyuan and Zhongzhu acupoints below his abdomen.
The three needles formed a triangle, guarding the dantian three inches below his navel—the seat of his qi sea.
Each half-foot-long needle sank almost entirely into his body, a sight that would make anyone's skin crawl.
A fiery sting erupted from the pierced acupoints.
Qin Chen took a deep breath, steadying himself. A glint of resolve flashed in his eyes as he grabbed another needle and thrust it forcefully into his dantian.
*Pop!*
The pigeon-egg-sized qi pool in his body ruptured instantly. The true qi within surged like wild dragons and serpents, rampaging uncontrollably.
Any expert witnessing this would be horrified—destroying one's own qi pool was tantamount to suicide for a martial artist.
*Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack…*
Sure enough, the seven meridians Qin Chen had previously opened were shredded by the ferocious true qi, torn and bloodied, as if countless steel blades were twisting through his flesh.
For any other martial artist, such excruciating pain would be unbearable, knocking them out cold.
But Qin Chen sat like a rock in the chamber, enduring the torment as it assaulted his nerves. His expression remained steady, though beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down his forehead.
*Boom!*
Suddenly, he slammed both hands onto the ground.
The remaining fourteen needles shot into the air.
*Swish! Swish! Swish!*
A brilliant light burst from Qin Chen's eyes. His hands moved like lightning, a flurry of afterimages too fast to follow.
In an instant, he stopped. All fourteen airborne needles had been driven into various points on his body.
One pierced straight through the crown of his head into the Tianmen acupoint. Another stabbed into the heart acupoint on his chest.
The remaining twelve were embedded into the critical nodes of his twelve meridians.
"Now, I can start opening the meridians."
Qin Chen trembled from the pain, his body soaked in cold sweat. Capillaries beneath his skin had burst, seeping faint traces of blood through his pores.
Yet he clenched his teeth, silently bearing the torture-like agony.
*Only by enduring the bitterest hardships can one rise above others.*
Every Martial Emperor in the world had paid a hundredfold the effort of ordinary people to achieve a hundredfold the results!
The path to strength offered no shortcuts!
Sinking his perception into his body, Qin Chen struggled to gather the chaotic, rampaging true qi and forced it into his first meridian.
*Rip!*
The meridian was instantly torn apart by the violent true qi, a searing pain exploding within him as if it were being ripped to shreds. His body shuddered.
An ordinary person would have given up under such torment.
But Qin Chen gritted his teeth, holding on with sheer willpower as blood beads continued to ooze from his pores, refusing to yield.
"The meridians this body originally opened were too weak and narrow. To surpass others, I need a stronger foundation."
After a few breaths, he finally fully opened the first meridian, its width more than double what it had been.
Without pause, Qin Chen directed the true qi into the second meridian.
Then the third.
The fourth.
In one relentless push, he re forged all seven of his previously opened meridians.
By now, he was a figure drenched in blood.
But Qin Chen knew his task was only half done. The real challenge hadn't even begun.
Adjusting his breathing, he rallied the faint thread of true qi and charged it toward his eighth meridian.
*Crackle!*
A sound like breaking bamboo rang out as he blasted through most of the eighth meridian in an instant.
But soon, the true qi met resistance.
At that moment—
*Buzz!*
A mysterious force suddenly emanated from the Heavenly Meridian Divine Needle embedded in the meridian, merging with the true qi and instantly clearing the eighth meridian.
The pain vanished abruptly, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief that flooded through him.
"The eighth meridian is open. Next, the ninth."
Qin Chen's expression remained stoic—neither joy nor sorrow—only his eyes shone with unwavering determination, like stars in the night sky.
Drawing on his past life's experience, within half an hour, he fully opened his ninth, tenth, and eleventh meridians.
Without a qi pool, his true qi dwindled with every use. Yet whenever it ran low, the needles in his body generated a surge of power, aiding him in breaking through.
After this grueling effort, he reached the final twelfth meridian.
This was a chasm that countless geniuses across ten thousand years of Tianwu Continent's history had failed to cross.
By now, Qin Chen was caked in blood, his original appearance unrecognizable. The relentless pain clouded his mind, tempting him to collapse into unconsciousness. But he bit down hard, clinging to consciousness.
He knew that if he passed out, it would all be over.
Gathering the last scraps of his will, he activated the secret technique of the Nine Star God Emperor Art and began assaulting his final meridian.
At first, the process went smoothly.
But as time dragged on, the remaining true qi weakened, its strength fading. The assault slowed, growing feebler by the moment.