Chapter 15: When Trying to Cultivate Gives You a Headache—Literally!
[Ancestor's POV]
For the first time in many years, I was left speechless.
Seeing and even touching Qi was nothing new. But that was only true for those at my level or slightly below me.
Yet I had only gained the ability to see Qi when I reached the First Level of Qi Condensation. I couldn’t even touch it until now.
"The future of this lad will be interesting to watch," I thought after witnessing how he could already see and touch Qi while still being a mortal.
What did this mean?
Xu Mo had greater talent than me. Although we were both once-in-a-generation geniuses, the disturbance his awakening caused was far beyond mine.
"I should focus on breaking through to the next realm," I mused. "This lad is still young and needs protection."
With a small smile, I turned and walked back to the mountain peak.
No one could see or sense my presence.
Taking a walk after so many years, I glanced at the carefree smiles of young disciples and shook my head. How many of you will even make it past Qi Condensation?
Even though Qi Condensation was considered weak—cannon fodder when the sect faced tough times—a single disciple who had just reached the First Level could terrorize an entire village. And if that disciple was not right in the head… a massacre.
I miss my old friends.
Sigh.
Living a long life has its downsides. Then again, everything has its advantages and disadvantages.
[Third Person POV]
The night stretched endlessly, its vast darkness pierced only by the cold silver moon and the flickering light of distant stars. A quiet breeze carried the scent of dew and earth, rustling the trees as unseen beasts stirred in the shadows.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Inside his room, Xu Mo sat on the cold floor, frustrated.
From the surrounding rooms, the laughter and bickering of new disciples echoed through the night.
Xu Mo had no real friends—not in the way that mattered. Sure, there was Long Chen and the girl he had saved from bullies, but neither visited him to discuss techniques or train together.
"Why won’t it flow toward me?" Xu Mo muttered, clenching his fists.
He had been sitting there since evening, desperately trying to draw Qi into his body. He could see it. He could even feel it.
But it refused to enter him.
At one point, in sheer desperation, he had even tried inhaling it through his nose and mouth—eating the Qi, so to speak.
That didn’t work either.
"Am I even talented enough? The Dao won’t listen to my call, and the Qi won’t flow inside me."
It was a good thing the Ancestor had already left. Otherwise, Xu Mo would have been beaten black and blue.
If he wasn’t talented, then wasn’t that an indirect insult to the Ancestor, who had the same level of talent?!
And trying to command the Dao? Madness.
Even the smallest part of the Grand Dao was still the Dao. Comprehending even the first stage of a Dao would allow a so-called trash to surpass all the great figures of the world.
Yet here Xu Mo was, a mere mortal, trying to order it around like a stubborn pet.
Sighing, he stood up and looked outside.
The Hidden Dragon Sect looked more alive at night than during the day.
Fire lanterns lit the entire path up the mountain, and the once-distant peak stood like an impenetrable fortress stretching toward the Azure Sky.
Xu Mo felt the empty ache inside his heart.
It had always been there since his parents’ passing. But tonight, it felt stronger.
At their funeral, he hadn’t cried. Not a single tear. Not even a flicker of emotion.
But now, as he recalled those memories, his eyes burned.
Big teardrops welled up, rolled down his cheeks, and gathered at his chin before falling onto the wooden floor, leaving faint stains behind.
His vision blurred, but he didn’t try to stop the tears. He let them flow.
He knew it was better to let them out now rather than breaking down in public later.
Xu Mo let out a small laugh at the thought—but with tears still streaming down his face, it only made him look more pitiful.
After a few moments, the storm of emotions settled, leaving behind a strange sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his heart.
He looked up at the night sky, dotted with blinking stars.
And then—
Beep.
A strange sound rang in his ears.
Xu Mo flinched.
The noise grew louder, drowning out everything else.
His frown deepened as he covered his ears, but it didn’t help.
"Agh!"
Pain shot through his skull.
Xu Mo dropped to his knees.
"I’m sorry! I won’t think about the Dao anymore! Please, take this sound away!"
He begged whatever was punishing him.
As a mere mortal, he had no right to approach the Grand Dao.
Please. Please. Please.
Xu Mo rolled on the floor, gripping his head as the pain became unbearable.
And then—just as suddenly as it started—the pain began to fade.
Panting, Xu Mo slowly sat up.
The sound was gone.
Like it had never been there in the first place.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead—a clear reminder that everything had been real. Not an illusion.