I awoke to find yet another rice seedling planted crookedly, something that needed to be corrected. Startled, I straightened up and looked around. I found myself in a rice field, planting rice. Judging by the memories that began flooding in, even while in this body, I had been planting rice, operating on the «program» imprinted in the mind of the body's previous owner.
Focusing on my new body and its memories, I discovered that my name was Tang Ji Tao, I was fourteen years old, an orphan, and lived in a village, leading the simple life of a peasant. Looking at the basket of rice seedlings, I tossed it to the ground and walked away from the field, heading toward a nearby stream. It was time to wash off the grime of my past life and start anew.
Checking the requirements for transitioning to the next world, I was pleasantly surprised. I could stay here for a full hundred years. My task during this time was to become the strongest Qi Cultivator. Simply the strongest, with no specifications as to where or in what scale. After washing in the stream and washing my clothes, I walked under the blazing spring sun toward my home, looking in the surroundings as I went.
The former inhabitant of this body knew about the existence of Qi cultivators—beings with incredible mystical powers who meditated in mountain caves for thousands of years. Moreover, every year, around the spring equinox, one of these cultivators would visit the village, taking with them all children aged thirteen to fourteen who had reached the first level of Qi Condensation. Additionally, the village elder possessed a booklet given by these same cultivators that described how to achieve Qi Condensation.
Tang Ji Tao had no interest in cultivation, but I was deeply intrigued by the subject. However, there was one problem: I was already fourteen years old. The equinox was a month away, and in another month, I would turn fifteen, making me ineligible to join the local cultivators’ sect.
Reaching the elder's dwelling, I found that he wasn’t home. Naturally, the village subsisted on agriculture, and during the spring season, everyone was toiling in the fields, as I had been just half an hour earlier. Deciding to return for the booklet in the evening, I headed to my home. Once there, I settled into a comfortable meditative posture and began meditating, attempting to understand what this “Qi” was.
By evening, I managed to sense the local form of magical energy permeating the world. However, all my attempts to gather or even shift it by a millimeter were unsuccessful. After a quick meal, I went to see the elder. I found him resting on the porch of his house, tired from a long day of work.
“Good health to you, honorable Shi Chu Song. I would like to read the Qi cultivation book kept in your house” - I asked the stocky man in accordance with local traditions.
“Tao, what’s gotten into you? It’s spring! You should be working, not meditating. I heard you abandoned the rice seedlings in the field. That disrupts our traditional way of life.”
“I need to read the Qi cultivation book” - I insisted. - “Or would you prefer I tell to Heavenly Cultivator, when he arrives for the spring festival, that you’re hindering children from learning this important art?”
The elder frowned at my threat and gave me a stern look.
- “Thinking of becoming a cultivator, are you? You think they’re waiting to welcome you with open arms?”
“I need to read the Qi cultivation book” - I repeated my mantra.
“Fine, let’s go” - he said grudgingly, spitting on the ground.
Though Shi Chu Song didn’t show it, my threat had scared him out of his wits—primarily because it was valid. While he didn’t deny direct requests, in everyday life, he always discouraged the “younger generation” from pursuing Qi cultivation, insisting that a worthy person should live off the land through hard work rather than floating in the heavens, doing who knows what.
With the coveted booklet in hand—a ten-page text filled with illustrations—I returned home. The sun hadn’t set yet, so I sat on the west-facing porch and began studying the local “wisdom.” The original owner of this body could read, but his knowledge of local characters was limited. Fortunately, the booklet was designed for simple-minded peasant children, so I had almost no trouble understanding it.
In five minutes, I had skimmed through the booklet and grasped the basics of the local cultivation system. First, Qi followed a simple rule: to absorb Qi, you must already possess Qi. You could only control the Qi that had passed through your inner energy channels and become imbued with your “essence.” A human body contained twenty-two Qi channels. Everyone was born with one channel “open.” Six more could be opened during the cultivation process.
The ability of a person to cultivate was determined quite simply. If there was a "thread of Qi" present in their one open 22nd channel, they could use it to gather more Qi and thus begin the path of cultivation. If innate Qi was absent in this channel, cultivation was fundamentally impossible for that person. Each individual possessed only one strand of Qi, while there were 22 channels. Consequently, on average, only one in twenty people could become a cultivator.
Understanding this straightforward concept, I began meditating using the local techniques. Soon, I found the relevant channel in my body and, to my delight, sensed a faint "thread" of Qi within it. To avoid dangerous experimentation, I decided to start with only the "standard" cultivation methods.
I performed the prescribed breathing exercises while visualizing the required images depicted in the book. I engaged in these peculiar practices for a couple of hours before definitively grasping the essence of the exercises.
The key to successfully employing the Qi-gathering technique was using the existing Qi to absorb the "unclaimed" Qi already within my body. This required creating a "loop" of Qi flow within the channel. Naturally, after some time, the free Qi in the body would be depleted, and one had to rely on breathing exercises to draw in Qi from the external world.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Although Qi was not heavily reliant on the physical world, it permeated all space and moved somewhat alongside matter. During deep breathing, air containing Qi entered the body and partially exchanged with the "internal energy system." Upon realizing this, I sought to understand why Qi couldn't directly penetrate the skin. As it turned out, living beings had a natural barrier that prevented the mixing of internal and external Qi and also kept internal Qi from dissipating.
Evaluating the effectiveness of the breathing techniques, I concluded they yielded minimal results. Fortunately, I possessed functional psionics, which allowed me to directly perceive Qi and its interactions with matter. By midnight, I had discovered a way to absorb Qi through my entire body. Tiny "valves" formed on my skin, allowing Qi to flow inward but preventing its escape. This gave me hope that reaching the first level of Qi Condensation would take not the six months to a year promised in the book but merely a month.
Having learned to absorb the Qi flowing through my body, I discovered that even in the external world, this energy was sparse. Scanning my surroundings, I found a "stream" of Qi nearby. This energy flow wound its way through space, obeying its own mysterious rules. I approached it and stood within the stream, as it hovered just a meter above the ground. My cultivation rate increased immediately. However, when I sat down, it slowed again since the flow now passed over my head.
I had to construct a makeshift "perch" to position myself within the stream. Searching for a more conveniently located stream yielded no results, and wandering the area at night was too dangerous. As a result, I cobbled together a bizarre creation resembling a cross between a scarecrow and a perch. Perched upon it, I meditated, carefully balancing to avoid falling.
By morning, the entire village passed by my home, gawking at my "cultivation" and gesturing mockingly. The village elder wasted no time spreading word that I had taken up spiritual pursuits and completely lost my mind. The villagers, eager for free entertainment, immediately speculated about how deranged I had become and whether it was contagious. I ignored these fools, vowing to return to this dump one day and obliterate everyone who had mocked me—every last one of them.
When the villagers went back to their fields, I ventured out to find a more suitable Qi stream for cultivation. Despite a sleepless night, I felt great, as the Qi I had gathered was gradually dispersing, nourishing my bones and internal organs, which improved their function.
After four hours of exploration, I discovered a suitable Qi stream in a small shrine in the forest. The locals considered the spot "belonging to the spirits" and occasionally left "offerings" at the altar. Fortunately, the stream flowed slightly away from the shrine, allowing me to meditate undisturbed by curious visitors while also "accepting" their offerings to stave off hunger. Although I didn’t really need this, it seemed the shrine had originally been created by a cultivator who used the energy flow and built the shrine to collect "tributes of food" from the locals.
Thus, my life settled into a new rhythm. I spent my days and nights at the "sacred site," absorbing Qi, returning home only a couple of times daily to eat and wash up. Though the villagers still considered me a lunatic, they left me alone, preoccupied with their own work.
About a week before the spring festival, I achieved the level described in the book. My "thread of Qi" had become dense enough to significantly slow its dissipation. At the same time, vital energy began to flow through my Qi channel, reducing my need for food and sleep. This state wasn’t permanent, and if I stopped cultivating, my Qi strand would revert to its natural state within a few months.
From that point on, I stayed in the village, awaiting the cultivator's arrival. Near my home, I built a decent shelter for meditating at my "personal" Qi stream, which now attracted less attention.
Qi Condensation practice was fairly monotonous, so while my body concentrated Qi, my mind worked on dispelling Shub-Niggurath’s spell, which suppressed my magic and chakra. Additionally, I used Qi and psionics to develop my brain. Tan Ji Tao had been fairly dim-witted, like the rest of the locals. I was accustomed to a more advanced consciousness that didn’t need five seconds to divide two by three.
Finally, the Great Day arrived—not the Spring Equinox Festival, which was still two days away, but the arrival of the Celestial Cultivator, capable of flying through the sky like a bird. From the locals’ perspective, that is. I, however, sensed Qi disturbances before spotting a man in his forties flying heavily above the road, about ten meters off the ground.
The entire village dropped their tasks to greet the great man who, with a wave of his hand, could flatten the village. The cultivator refused the feast and got straight to business.
"Do you have any teenagers who have reached the first level of Qi Condensation?" - he asked the elder.
"I am!" - I immediately responded.
If I hadn’t shown up myself, no one would have bothered to inform me about the Celestial Cultivator’s arrival. The local folk were so enviously ignorant that it sometimes made me want to strangle them all just for existing.
The village elder grimaced at my statement as if he had swallowed a whole box of lemons. He fancied himself the "king of the village," and whenever someone dared to defy his authority, he would immediately assert his dominance, pressuring the villagers to support his nonsense. However, in the presence of the cultivator, he dared not pull such stunts and simply swallowed this "insult" in silence.
The cultivator approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I felt his Qi enter my body and scan the twenty-second channel.
"Acceptable" - he nodded. - "How old are you?"
Thanks to regular hard physical labor and genetics, I already looked like a fully grown, rugged man. By local standards, I was one. At fifteen, a man was expected to marry and run his own household, and my build, compared to the local frail and malnourished folk, was considered exceptionally robust.
"Fourteen. I’ll turn fifteen in a couple of months" - I replied. The elder seemed about to add something, but I gave him a sharp glare, which silenced him.
"Fine, I’ll take your word for it" - the cultivator waved dismissively. - "Any other candidates?"
"No, your grace" - The elder eagerly replied. - "This year, we are offering your sect of the Heavenly Blades our finest groom. He will surely become a worthy disciple and repay all the resources invested in him."
"And if not" - the cultivator said darkly, fixing his gaze on me, - "he’ll regret it."
Grabbing my shoulder, the cultivator ascended into the sky, carrying me off. Streams of Qi held me in the air, so I didn’t even need to exert myself. After about half an hour, we arrived at a neighboring village, where a small group of a dozen other "gifted brats" like me had already gathered. Compared to them, I looked the healthiest and most well-fed. My predecessor in my village may have worked from dawn to dusk, but he had clearly not gone hungry.
"Tai Xu, who have you brought this time?" - a young man in similar attire asked the cultivator.
"Teacher, this is another candidate. He’ll turn fifteen soon, but he meets all the criteria" - Tai Xu replied.
The young man grabbed my shoulder and nodded in approval.
"Acceptable. We’ll wait for So Yu, then head back to the school. We’ve already met today’s quota."
"Yes, teacher." - Despite appearing older, Tai Xu fawned over the younger man, who clearly held a higher level of cultivation.