The wild, roaring true qi surged and bellowed, gathering at Qin Chen's dantian, forming a ferocious vortex.
This was the most critical moment for a martial artist. A single lapse in control could allow the terrifying true qi to tear through their meridians and shatter their fragile dantian.
Especially for Qin Chen, whose true qi—both in quantity and quality—far exceeded that of an ordinary martial artist by several times. The vortex it formed was exponentially more powerful and fearsome.
Yet there wasn't a trace of worry on Qin Chen's face.
His mastery over true qi was too profound. He didn't need to micromanage it—just push it to its limits, letting it flood and rampage like a breached dam. His past life's vast experience instinctively guided his body to harness it all, directing it to converge according to his will.
Moments later, a qi pool took shape within him.
This qi pool, the size of a duck egg, was several times larger than his previous pigeon-egg-sized one.
It was sturdier, fuller.
But Qin Chen didn't stop. He drove the surging true qi harder, and the newly formed, still-fragile qi pool shattered instantly, dissolving into nothing.
Unperturbed, he gathered the true qi again, forcing it to coalesce once more in his dantian, forming another qi pool.
This one was even larger than the duck-egg-sized pool, thicker and more imposing.
Yet, once again, Qin Chen broke it apart.
After repeating this process seven or eight times, a qi pool the size of a fist finally solidified in his dantian.
This time, no matter how fiercely he assaulted it with true qi, the pool stood firm. Satisfied, he began reinforcing it with steady streams of true qi.
This extraordinary qi pool stabilized gradually. Each rotation unleashed a startling burst of true qi, coursing swiftly through every meridian in his body.
Even the mightiest martial artist, witnessing this, would have to concede that this was a near-perfect qi pool—its incredible resilience, explosive power, and vast capacity rivaling that of an Earth-level martial artist.
What defied belief was that this qi pool belonged to a mere early Human-level martial artist…
At this stage, only Qin Chen could achieve such a feat.
For an ordinary martial artist, reaching this level of true qi control would require at least the seventh-rank Martial Venerable realm to match Qin Chen's almost cheat-like precision.
After another day of effort, Qin Chen broke through to mid-stage Human-level, finally halting his cultivation.
In just a few days and nights of grueling practice, his cultivation had only risen from early to mid-stage Human-level—a small step. Yet compared to the Qin Chen of days ago, he was a completely different person.
A transformation akin to shedding his old self wasn't an exaggeration.
*Boom!*
The cultivation chamber door swung open, and Qin Chen emerged, radiant and vigorous, under the envious gazes of the crowd.
"Lin Tian and Zhang Ying must have left already. This chamber's effects are great, but the price is steep."
Glancing at the mere dozens of silver coins left on him, Qin Chen gave a wry smile.
The chamber costs a hundred silver coins per day. In a few days, it had drained the hundreds of silver coins he'd saved up.
Stepping out of the cultivation tower, he was greeted by bright sunlight and crisp air that lifted his spirits.
But then he frowned, turning to the side.
A youth standing at the entrance caught sight of Qin Chen, a flicker of malice in his eyes, and turned to leave.
In a flash, Qin Chen blocked his path.
Panic flashed in the youth's eyes. "What do you want? Why are you stopping me?"
"I should be asking you that. Who are you, and why were you watching me?" Qin Chen narrowed his eyes.
"Hmph, who's watching you?"
"Not talking, huh?" Qin Chen didn't waste words. He seized the youth's neck, lifting him like a chicken.
"You… you… Let me go!"
The youth clawed at Qin Chen's wrist, trying to pry it off, but Qin Chen's grip was like iron—unyielding no matter how hard he struggled.
Soon, the youth's face turned beet red, his voice croaking like a strangled duck as he thrashed in pain.
"Speak!" Qin Chen said coldly.
"I… I don't… know what you're talking about," the youth rasped, still resisting.
Qin Chen tightened his grip, his terrifying strength clamping down on the youth's throat, forcing his chest to heave from lack of air.
The icy stare sent a chill through the youth's heart.
"I… I'll talk, I'll talk…" he finally surrendered.
*Thud!*
Qin Chen released him, dropping him to the ground, and stared down coldly.
"It was Young Master Wei Zhen. He told me to keep an eye on you. He found Lin Tian and Zhang Ying, knew you were in the cultivation tower, and ordered me to watch the exit and report the moment you came out…" The youth sprawled on the ground, gasping for air, his eyes filled with terror as he looked at Qin Chen.
He was certain that if he hadn't spoken, Qin Chen might have strangled him to death.
"Him again." Qin Chen's gaze turned frigid. "Where are Lin Tian and Zhang Ying? Are they okay?"
"I don't know. Young Master Wei Zhen took them away."
"What!" Qin Chen's voice grew sharp. "Where's Wei Zhen now?"
"At his private courtyard. I don't know anything else—I was just told to watch you."
"Take me there, now!" Qin Chen's eyes were ice-cold, his tone sharper than ever.
It seemed the lesson he'd given that punk a few days ago wasn't enough. Barely two days later, Wei Zhen was back at it—and he'd taken Lin Tian and Zhang Ying.
"I wonder how they're holding up," Qin Chen thought, a flicker of worry in his chest.
Led by the youth, Qin Chen made his way to Wei Zhen's dormitory.
"There… that's it…"
The youth pointed to a courtyard ahead.
Beyond the shared dorms for commoners, Tianxing Academy offered luxurious private residences for the capital's elite. These villa-like quarters, complete with gardens, offered excellent privacy—perfect for noble scions.
As Qin Chen looked up, the youth seized the moment of distraction. Like a rabbit, he bolted toward the garden, shouting, "Brother Zhen, that guy's here! He's here!"