After Master Ji had left, Li Yan immediately felt the Qi within him flow smoothly. A wry smile tugged at his lips—he always felt that his internal energy was stifled when his master stood nearby.
Without wasting a moment, he steadied his mind and approached the copper furnace. This furnace burned for about an hour at a time—a precious window during which he could practice his cultivation without delay. Taking up a firm stance, he extended his hands into the swirling blue-black aura over the copper basin and silently recited his incantations. Almost as if guided by an unseen force, the mist-like aura split into ten slender, dark threads that snaked toward his fingertips. Each thread felt like a burning red-hot needle prying at his nails, as if tearing them away—an agony that surged straight to his heart and mind.
Even though Li Yan had braced himself for hardship, he could not have anticipated such intense pain. A low groan escaped him as his stance wavered; he staggered a couple of steps back. Strikingly, even as he retreated, the threads—the very channels drawn by his technique—did not vanish. Instead, they stretched along with him, lengthening while they continued to invade through the gaps beneath his nails.
His black robe was soon soaked with sweat. Gritting his teeth, Li Yan forced himself forward again, reestablishing his stance. Renewing his focus on the cultivation method, the azure-black threads returned like burning silver needles, piercing his meridians. With each inch advanced, his body trembled involuntarily, and sweat poured down in relentless layers.
He wasn't sure how long he could endure this torment, but his natural perseverance spurred him on. Even if his efforts were not perfect, he would give his all. Time slipped by, and soon his nerves grew numb—only the mindless recitation of his method kept him tethered to the task as the threads continued their relentless journey within his body.
Outside, while Master Ji sat cross-legged at a stone table with his eyes closed, a slight twitch of his eyelids betrayed his inner unease. After more than half an hour, the master suddenly opened his eyes wide—and then, as if by an unseen force, the stone door to Li Yan's room was flung open.
Inside, Li Yan's face was a mask of blue-black bruises, and his hands and arms were enveloped in a shroud of dark Qi. At that moment, he lost consciousness; even the mechanical recitation of his cultivation method had faltered. His body tipped backward, yet the ten dark threads clung stubbornly to his fingers. As he began to fall, these severed threads arched in mid-air in eerie curves, creating a spectacle both unnerving and strange.
Just as he was about to fall straight to the ground, a shadow appeared behind him. With a graceful sweep of a large sleeve, the figure caught him, while the other sleeve flicked at the dark threads. A gentle "bo bo" sounded, and the strands snapped free from Li Yan's fingers—even as they continued to writhe in the air like venomous serpents, as if magnetically drawn back toward his falling form.
Without even glancing at those lingering tendrils, Master Ji secured Li Yan with his sleeve and, employing a subtly calming force, swept him toward a wooden bed before gently laying him down. A few steps later, standing at the bedside, the master moved his hands in front of his chest, forming a series of intricate hand seals. Moments later, delicate blue sparks—like falling starlight—shot from his fingertips, descending onto Li Yan's abdomen.
In that instant, Li Yan felt as if he were caught in a volcanic eruption. His body was seared by an unbearable, burning pain. He tried to cry out, but no sound emerged—as if countless rivers of molten lava were surrounding him, cooking him alive. He was convinced he would perish in that fiery furnace. Then suddenly, a cooling sensation began to rise in his abdomen. Like the receding of a raging volcano, the inferno and its searing lava gradually subsided. His mind cleared.
When he finally opened his eyes, he discovered that he was lying peacefully on the bed, with his black-robed teacher standing at its side. Startled, he tried to sit up—but a sharp, burning pain in his chest and abdomen forced him to slump back down. Amid flickering sparks that danced around him and the ghostly threat of an internal eruption, Li Yan managed a strained smile and said, "Master… Master, your disciple is inept; I do not deserve your high expectations."
Master Ji chuckled warmly and replied, "There's no need for self-reproach. For your very first attempt, you managed to persevere for over half an hour—that is quite extraordinary. You did very well."
With a grimace etched on his face, Li Yan stammered, "So… does that mean I'm now capable of cultivating our sect's technique?"
"Of course," the master replied. "But even though you feel this pain now, you must refine the herbal medicinal energy you've absorbed. If it remains unrefined within you, it will only cause harm. Only once you have refined it will that energy truly become part of you—and that is considered one complete cultivation cycle."
Li Yan already knew the routine well. His master had explained that each day his practice was divided into two parts: first, absorbing the herbal medicinal energy, and then refining it for his own use. After 49 days—the cycle of seven sevens—you would break through into the first level, at which point internal energy would begin to manifest. From then on, your body would rely on this foundation, and you would no longer need to absorb fresh medicinal energy; continuous cultivation would suffice.
Gritting his teeth, Li Yan took a deep, steadying breath despite the burning sensation inside him. He sat cross-legged once more, closed his eyes, and set about circulating his inner method to refine the energy within.
Observing this, Master Ji quietly turned and withdrew. Once again, he sat cross-legged outside on the stone table. After a moment, he murmured softly to himself, "This child indeed has a resilient spirit. But after refining the herbal energy, whether he can remain calm and balanced remains to be seen."
From that day forward, Li Yan embarked on an arduous, day-in–day-out journey of absorbing herbal energies and refining them to strengthen his meridians. Though each session was torturous, he gradually learned to remain conscious for longer stretches. In fact, every seven days the potency of the medicinal energy nearly doubled, while the accompanying pain diminished significantly. After the early sessions—when Master Ji had helped him alleviate the extreme pain—Li Yan eventually managed to cultivate entirely on his own. His meridians, once delicate like thin tubes that nearly shattered when forced open, grew stronger and more expansive. Major channels thickened and became resilient, which naturally brought relief from the suffering.
After a long, relieved sigh, Li Yan concluded that day's session. Still seated cross-legged, he opened his eyes only to find a sudden surge of irritation welling up inside him. He took another deep breath, fighting against the inner turmoil. With each day of cultivation, he noticed that his emotions became increasingly volatile, as though an untamed fire roamed restlessly within him, stirring up anxiety.
He had once asked his master about this, and Master Ji had explained that such agitation was the result of the herbal energy purifying his body. Only powerful medicinal forces could forge strong meridians—and only with that robust foundation could one control our sect's fierce techniques. Master Ji assured him that once Li Yan reached the first level after 49 days, this turbulence would gradually ease, and with further progress, it would eventually vanish altogether.
Li Yan listened, recalling once again his master's peerless martial arts skills, and though he found the explanation convincing, an inexplicable unease still gnawed at him. Every time he thought it through, he ended up more confused.
Putting aside these unsettling thoughts, Li Yan's restlessness made it impossible to remain indoors during his cultivation. He rose, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the night. Overwhelmed by irritation and desperate to vent, he wandered aimlessly through the valley—his daily routine had always been consumed by training, leaving little room for leisure. But tonight, nothing in his cramped room could contain the storm inside him.
Wandering through the quiet valley, the cool autumn breeze brushed his face and, with its refreshing chill, gradually swept away much of his inner turmoil. He took deep, cleansing breaths as he strolled slowly. The valley was small, and after a short circuit, he came upon a pool. As he approached the water, a brisk chill enveloped him. A sudden, cooling sensation surged through his body, making his internal energy flow more smoothly and lifting his spirit. Quickening his pace, he reached the edge of the pool, where the cold was even more intense—and his chest soon felt wonderfully at ease. Overjoyed, Li Yan sat by the water's edge for half an hour. By the time he finally stood up, all the internal heat had dissipated, replaced by a wave of drowsiness. He returned to his room and, without delay, fell into a deep sleep.
At dawn, Li Yan awoke feeling invigorated. In the twenty-plus days of continuous training, the subtle changes in his body had made sleep far more restorative than it had been in many days.
After awakening, he stood by a table and gazed out the window at the swirling mist hovering over the pool. His eyes brightened, and he briskly made his way to his teacher's stone house. Approaching the door, he heard Master Ji's gentle, familiar voice from within: "You're here—come on in."
Ever since Li Yan began his cultivation, he had rarely come inside the master's dwelling. Usually, after preparing the medicinal mixtures each day, Master Ji would stand outside Li Yan's room, silently watching over him.
"Yes, Master," Li Yan said, his expression momentarily tightening as he hurried inside. There, he found his teacher still seated cross-legged behind a stone table, holding that enigmatic book—neither fully gold nor merely jade—in his hand while smiling warmly at him. Yet Li Yan couldn't help but notice that every time he met his teacher's gaze, he sensed an odd blockage in his own flow of energy.
Master Ji broke the silence with a smile: "Hehe, today you look quite well. It seems you've begun to notice some of what's happening in the valley."
Curious, Li Yan asked, "Master, do you know what I mean?"
"You must have discovered that the pool helps to dispel the internal heat," Master Ji replied gently.
"Indeed, Master—I now understand that you've long been aware of its unique cooling effect," Li Yan said.
"Of course. One reason I chose to reside in this valley was precisely because the water in that pool has a rare, chilling power," the master explained.
After a brief pause, Li Yan hesitated and then inquired, "Then, Master, why didn't you let me cultivate by the pool right away?"
Master Ji chuckled, "Our sect's method of initiation is rather strict. During the early stages of cultivation, every disciple will experience these intense conditions. There are methods to alleviate them—one can immerse oneself in one's hobbies to restore inner calm, such as playing the zither, practicing wind instruments, or calligraphy; alternatively, one might use external elements to counteract the internal heat—elements like ice, snowy mountains, or even a cold pool." He paused and briefly regarded Li Yan before continuing, "For now, based on your progress over these recent days, you seem to have reached a bottleneck. I advise you not to cultivate at the pool just yet. Let me first employ another method to dispel the abnormalities you experience during training. Once you break into the first level after the 49-day cycle, then you can use the pool for cultivation—and at that time, it will be most effective. In fact, once you reach that level, you'll be able to cultivate by the pool permanently."
Delighted by this promise, Li Yan's heart leaped, and he asked eagerly, "Then… Master, what method will you use?"
"You shall find out during today's practice," Master Ji replied with a slight smile, leaving it at that.
Li Yan only managed a bitter smile in response and took his leave.
A few hours later, after absorbing more medicinal energy into his body, Li Yan resumed his cross-legged meditation to refine the energy within him. But soon, the searing heat inside him began to boil and surge uncontrollably. Despite his repeated attempts to suppress it, the turmoil within grew too fierce—his emotions rising in a turbulent tide.
At that very moment, a gentle, melodious sound drifted in through the window—a zither's tune that was as serene as an autumn moon over a still lake, as graceful as a jade rabbit ascending in the dawn, as delicate as a breeze caressing the leaves in a forest, and at times even reminiscent of a maiden's soft murmur. Each note felt like fresh dew easing into the heart. Instantly, Li Yan sensed a cooling relief blossoming within him; his agitation receded, and his mind began to clear.
In that instant, he realized what his master had done: Master Ji's mastery of the zither was so profound that he could transform music into an environment, allowing one's spirit to become lucid and clear. Accepting this revelation, Li Yan dared not overthink any further. Instead, he focused deeply and slowly let himself drift into a state of complete self-forgetfulness.