Wandao 004 The Influx of Spiritual Qi · The Gate to Cultivation Opens

Wandao 004

The morning light was faint and gentle, as the rising sun bathed the eastern hills of Niupu Village in a warm golden hue. The dew had yet to evaporate, and the fresh air carried mingled scents of damp earth and tender grass, drifting softly down from the distant mountains.

Wan Xiaochuan stood quietly in his own courtyard, his cheeks still tinged with the lingering chill of last night’s rain. Sleep had eluded him through the hours; the mysterious black stone that had fallen from the heavens the previous evening still hung silently at his chest, emanating a subtle, wavering pulse.

The spectral dialogue of that night—like a dream half-remembered—still haunted his thoughts. With great care, he lifted the stone, cradling it in his palm. Its ashen surface now revealed a translucent sheen, within which faint silver veins glimmered like stars under the gentle caress of dawn.

He closed his eyes and began to circulate the most rudimentary breath technique his father had taught him. With each inhale, he sought to draw in the sparse spiritual qi that permeated the world.

The qi sank deep into his dantian, the vital energy converging within.

Suddenly, a gentle tremor stirred at his core; a warm current flowed naturally inward, threading through his limbs and bones like fine silken threads. Wan Xiaochuan’s heart jolted sharply—

He had truly felt the presence of spiritual qi.

Though faint, it was undeniably real.

Just as he held his breath to guide the flow deeper, soft footsteps approached from outside the gate, followed by a youthful voice: “Brother Wan, you actually managed to draw qi into your body? I thought you were just shivering from the wind last night!”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Wan Xiaochuan opened his eyes to see a boy of similar age standing at the gate, about fourteen or fifteen years old, slender in build with sharp, lively brows. He wore the gray-blue robes of an alchemy disciple, a vine-like purple cord tied around his waist, and held a cracked spirit fruit in his hand.

“Lin Qixian?” Wan Xiaochuan exclaimed in surprise, then smiled warmly. “What brings you here?”

Half-chewing the spirit fruit, Lin Qixian muttered indistinctly, “You didn’t show up to play cards with me last night—there had to be something wrong. Then I heard you sneaked out at midnight to touch a falling star. How could I not come see if you’d gone mad?”

He spoke as he strode boldly into the yard, glancing around. “Hey, where’s that black stone from last night?”

Wan Xiaochuan shook his head and fastened the stone once more around his neck. “I hid it safely and haven’t told Father yet.”

Lin Qixian paused, reading the serious expression on Wan Xiaochuan’s face. He bit the last piece of the spirit fruit, clapped his hands, and said, “You’ve silently started cultivating spiritual qi—now even I can’t keep up with you.”

Wan Xiaochuan smiled, “Perhaps it’s fate.”

Scratching the back of his head, Lin Qixian wore a look mixed with slight helplessness and admiration. “You must be a child of destiny. But if you’re truly beginning cultivation, you need to prepare for the spirit root test soon. Just drawing qi won’t make you a true cultivator.”

Wan Xiaochuan nodded and asked, “How has your alchemy practice been lately? I heard you recently revived a poisonous bee?”

Lin Qixian shrugged with pride. “I’m now the foremost disciple of Master Yao Ji. Even the most stubborn spiritual insects come back to life under my care.” With that, he pulled a small wooden box from his bosom and opened it. A tiny emerald-green spirit bee crawled out slowly, its antennae twitching as it emitted a faint spiritual aura.

“That is… a spirit locust?” Wan Xiaochuan exclaimed. “You actually tamed it to recognize you as master?”

“No big deal!” Lin Qixian grinned. “Once you join the sect, I’ll brew some basic qi-nourishing pills for you, guaranteed to get you firmly into the initial stage of qi refinement!”

Hearing this, warmth blossomed in Wan Xiaochuan’s heart. He gazed at the leaves flickering in the morning sunlight and instinctively clenched his fist.

He knew the gate to cultivation had been opened for him.

And this step was but the beginning.