Li Han sat cross-legged on his meditation mat, the loose folds of his black cultivation robe pooling around him like a gathering storm. A green jade slip pressed against his forehead, his eyes shut in deep concentration. Slowly, he lowered the jade, his eyes opening to reveal a swirl of emotions—conflict, determination, and a trace of unease.
The weight of the Xuan family legacy rested heavily on his shoulders. For years, he had dreamed of inheriting this legacy, but never under such dire circumstances. “I always yearned for the family’s legacy,” he whispered, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, “but not like this.” He forced down the storm of emotions that threatened to rise, carefully returning the jade slip to the small space sack Yun had gifted him.
The space sack itself was a marvel of cultivation craftsmanship. Fashioned from the hide of a spiritual beast and inscribed with intricate spatial formations, it allowed vast quantities of items to be stored within a confined space. This particular sack held a capacity of ten cubic meters. As Li Han studied the glowing formation lines etched into the sack, he couldn’t help but admire the precision and skill involved. His formation eyes traced the delicate patterns, absorbing the embedded knowledge with the keen instinct of a scholar silently learning from a long-departed master.
But there was no time to linger on admiration. Shaking off his awe, Li Han reached into the sack once more, retrieving another jade slip. His heart quickened, a thrill of anticipation coursing through him as he pressed the cool jade to his forehead.
As the jade touched his skin, a flood of knowledge surged through his mind. The words "Chi Weaving Cultivation Manual" resonated within him, striking a deep chord of recognition. The jade slip crumbled to dust in his hand, its essence transferred to his consciousness. Li’s eyes gleamed with a newfound intensity, the stark contrast of black and white in his irises now glowing with purpose. His hands trembled, not with fear, but with the sheer excitement of discovery. “This cultivation manual... it was made for me!”
Cultivation techniques typically revolved around harnessing atmospheric chi and circulating it within the body, guiding it through specific pathways to produce different types of chi—flame, water, earth, or neutral. Cultivators with an affinity for a particular element could enhance their abilities by aligning their chi with that element. But the Chi Weaving technique was unlike anything Li had ever encountered.
This technique didn’t alter the chi’s affinity; it maintained chi in its purest, most versatile form. The creator of the technique had been a formation cultivator, inspired by the puppet masters who controlled their creations with chi threads. Drawing from this inspiration, the cultivator devised a method to weave chi into fine threads that could be directed through the body’s meridians. These threads could then be used as formation lines, allowing the cultivator to construct formations in real-time, using the world as their canvas. It was a revolutionary concept that turned formation cultivators into living, breathing formations.
“Genius... this is the work of a true genius!” Li marveled, his breath quickening as he imagined the possibilities—trapping enemies within intricate formations with just a flick of his hand, adapting to any battlefield with the fluidity of thought. “How could someone who created this technique remain unknown? It could change the entire landscape for formation cultivators.” But as the initial excitement began to fade, a sobering realization set in. “I see... it’s not that the technique isn’t great. It’s that it’s too difficult.”
The Chi Weaving technique was indeed groundbreaking, but it demanded a level of mastery that few could achieve. Without a profound understanding of formations, a cultivator wouldn’t even be able to grasp the basics of the manual. Moreover, converting chi into threads condensed one’s chi reserves, effectively reducing the total amount of chi available. Without ample chi reserves, a cultivator might deplete their energy before completing even half a formation.
“I have the formation eyes, so comprehension won’t be an issue,” Li mused, his gaze sharpening with resolve. “But without sufficient chi reserves, I won’t be able to fully harness this technique.” His mind raced, strategizing his next steps. “When I reach the sect, I’ll need to focus on increasing my chi capacity and simplifying my formation diagrams.”
As Li sat in a meditative stance, the shadows of the cave seemed to close in around him, but his eyes—bright, focused, and brimming with determination—shone like twin beacons in the darkness.
The sound of soft footsteps echoed through the cave, drawing Li out of his thoughts. “Boy, it’s time to depart,” Han’s voice broke the silence.
Li slowly raised his head, his neck stiff from hours of immobility. Standing at the cave entrance, Han was now dressed in a yellow scholar’s robe, its fabric straining against his broad, muscular frame. His bald head gleamed in the dim light, reflecting the surroundings like polished stone. The transformation from a rugged warrior to a scholarly figure was striking, almost comical, and Li couldn’t help but stare, a bemused expression crossing his face.
Noticing Li’s reaction, Han’s expression remained serious, but a flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. “A scholar must present himself with dignity,” he stated, as if justifying the change in attire. With a swift motion, he tossed a green hairpin to Li. “As my son, I can’t have you looking unkempt. Tie your hair up properly.”
Li caught the hairpin and deftly gathered his black hair, streaked with gray, into a neat bun. As he stood there, dressed in his simple black robe, his eyes gleaming with newfound wisdom, he exuded a calm and composed air that belied his youth—a presence that seemed almost otherworldly.
Han nodded approvingly, a hint of pride in his gaze. “That’s better. Now, follow me. I’ve found the most suitable sect for you.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
They began their journey through the winding tunnels, the air growing fresher with each step. As they approached the cave’s exit, Li noticed a change in the atmosphere. The scent of salt filled the air, and a cool breeze brushed against his skin. “The sea?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise. “But aren’t we still on Planet Xuan?”
Han chuckled, glancing back at him with a knowing smile. “We’re on Planet Debian now. It’s still within the Black Sector, but unless you become a powerful cultivator, you can forget about ever seeing Xuan again.”
Li pushed down the wave of homesickness that threatened to rise. “Can you tell me more about Planet Debian? Its ecology and ruling order?” he asked, focusing on the present.
Han appreciated the boy’s composure and the intelligent question. “I’ll keep it brief. Debian was conquered in the 20th millennia and has been under the jurisdiction of the Celestial Conquerors Court ever since. The planet’s overseer is Yu Bo, a formidable level 2 cultivator.”
The mention of the Celestial Conquerors sent a shiver down Li’s spine. Known for their relentless militaristic approach and expansionist ambitions, the Celestial Conquerors were one of the four great factions that held dominion over the cultivation world. Their leaders were titanic figures, wielding power that reshaped entire worlds.
“Celestial Conquerors?” Li asked, his gaze drifting to the white hammer insignia on Han’s chest. “Aren’t you all part of the Celestial Court?”
Han’s smile widened slightly, though his eyes remained serious. “It’s more complex than that. The four factions aren’t entirely separate; they work together to maintain the balance of the celestial civilization. Leader Yun himself began as a Celestial Conqueror before moving to the Celestial Court due to... certain complications.”
Li’s brow furrowed with concern. “Does that mean I’ll be under the Celestial Conquerors in the future?”
Han didn’t answer directly, but the gleam in his eyes told Li everything he needed to know.
As they finally emerged from the cave, Li was struck by the sight that greeted him. Before him stretched an endless expanse of azure ocean, its surface sparkling under the morning sun. The horizon was dotted with countless islands, each bathed in the golden light of dawn. It was a breathtaking, almost surreal view that left Li momentarily speechless.
Han’s voice brought him back to reality. “Still interested in the planet’s ecology?”
Li sighed, a mixture of awe and resignation in his voice. “An oceanic world dotted with islands... not what I expected from a planet ruled by the Celestial Conquerors.”
With a flick of his wrist, Han summoned a spiritual boat that materialized on the shore. Li’s eyes widened in amazement, his gaze immediately drawn to the intricate formations inscribed on the vessel’s surface. His earlier composure nearly faltered as he studied the patterns, his excitement barely contained.
Han’s expression darkened slightly as he grabbed Li and pulled him onto the boat with a single motion. “Control yourself,” he muttered in a tone that was half warning, half exasperation. “We’re heading to a sect. Don’t embarrass me.”
Li offered an apologetic smile, reminding himself of Yun’s advice about going against his nature when necessary. He took a deep breath, calming the storm of emotions within him, and nodded. “I’ll keep it in check,” he promised, his voice steady.
With a satisfied grunt, Han began steering the boat across the vast ocean. As the vessel glided smoothly over the water, Li’s thoughts raced ahead, already planning his next steps. The journey to the sect was only the beginning, and he was determined to carve out a path that would redefine his destiny.
As the boat glided smoothly across the water, Li Han immersed himself in the study of the Chi Weaving technique. Each time he delved into the manual, new layers of understanding unfolded before him, like the petals of a blossoming flower. The sensation of unraveling its mysteries, piece by intricate piece, filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. But as the complexities piled up, his head began to throb, and he reluctantly opened his eyes, feeling a mix of frustration and awe.
“This will take time—more than I imagined,” he mused, recognizing the vast mental and spiritual effort required to grasp even the basics of such a profound technique.
To his side, Han was engrossed in his own routine, lifting his powerful frame effortlessly on one hand as he performed push-ups. The sight was almost absurd—his scholarly robe clung tightly to his muscled body, stretching to its limits, while his bald head gleamed in the sunlight.
Sensing Li’s gaze, Han finished his exercises with a swift, fluid motion, landing gracefully on his feet. His eyes, sharp and focused, turned toward the distant ships that dotted the horizon. “If you get the chance, you should consider becoming a bounty hunter,” Han said, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “Planet Debian is rife with pirates, and hunting them down is an experience like no other.” His eyes grew distant, as if he were recalling the thrill of battles long past.
Li couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for any pirate unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with Han in his prime. He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “I’m not cut out for combat, Han. Becoming a bounty hunter seems far too dangerous.”
Han snorted, a grin playing on his lips. “Dangerous? You think bounty hunting is dangerous? Let me tell you, boy, danger is landing on a hostile planet, fighting off desperate natives with the sky painted red by the blood of your comrades. That’s what real danger looks like.”
Li winced at the vivid imagery, the weight of Han’s words pressing down on him. He lowered his head, unable to argue against the stark reality presented to him.
Han’s tone shifted, growing colder, more intense. “You’ve lived too long in the safety of a sheltered life. The Celestial Civilization isn’t built on kindness and negotiation. Do you think we conquer worlds by talking things out? No. We shatter the world’s defenses, plant heavenly pillars deep into its core, and bend the will of the planet to our own. Every victory is bathed in blood, every step forward paid for with lives. Danger isn’t something you run from—it’s something you learn to live with, to embrace, if you want to survive.”
Li’s body trembled, his mind waging a fierce battle between the logical caution that had kept him safe so far and the brutal truth Han was forcing him to confront. Han watched, his expression impassive but his eyes keen, knowing that this internal struggle was a necessary part of Li’s growth.
Then, suddenly, the trembling stopped. Li’s eyes opened, and with a voice that held a newfound resolve, he whispered, “I understand.” As soon as he spoke, he felt a shift within himself—his chi responded, aligning with the Chi Weaving technique as if acknowledging his decision. His blood pulsed with renewed vigor, as though it recognized and welcomed the acceptance of danger as an intrinsic part of his journey.
Han observed the change in Li, nodding slightly in approval. “You carry the blood of a great sage, one who led countless expeditions into the unknown. It’s only natural that your body reacts when you finally embrace what it means to walk this path.”
He turned his gaze to the nearby island, its shape obscured by a veil of mist. “Get ready, Li. We’ve arrived at the Three Winds Sect.”