The morning air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and freshly plucked herbs. Cheng moved through his daily routine with an efficiency born from two years of repetition. But today was different. Today, his steps were lighter, his breaths deeper.

Two months ago, he had noticed he felt his body was full. as if he couldn't have any more Qi in his body. And so, today, he would get another gathering pill, making it two, with the one he saved last month.

around midday, he wiped his face, having cut as much as even Senior brother Wu Jinhai, making the other seniors confused and envious, as such speed was highly unusual. But apart from shunning him, something kind of useless, as all outer sect disciples practically spent all day every day working, leaving no time for socializing.

And then, once again, Elder Feng just appeared on the stone platform, unseen by Cheng's eyes, even as he strained his perception, before bowing in tandem with the rest of the outer sect members.

Cheng kept his expression neutral as a senior disciple handed him his stipend, and after the elder disappeared once more, Cheng turned and walked away, ignoring the interested and cautious gazes of a scant number of outer sect disciples that had seen his rapid improvement.

Back at his cabin, he barred the door and sat down immediately, his heart pounding with anticipation. He had spent the past two years building a foundation, enduring the grueling toil, the pain, the monotony. Now, he had taken the first step. This pill would be different. He would no longer simply gather Qi blindly, letting it meander through his body without guidance. He would refine it, direct it, strengthen himself.

And if he couldn't, he'd just will it so. After all, his memories told him of ones that defied the heavens. whatever that meant.

Without hesitation, he swallowed the pill.

The now-familiar coolness spread from his stomach, but this time, he felt it more keenly. His senses sharpened, his perception expanding as he focused inward. The motes of Qi that suffused the air around him responded to his intent, drawn toward him in gentle, swirling currents. He guided it, pulling it into his his body, and like a tide, the newer ones entering his body pushed other motes closer in to fall into what must be his dantian.

As the first pill almost run out, he swallowed the second one, and kept focusing, drawing the motes around him into himself.

Slowly but surely, he kept pushing, his body already dripping with sweat. And then, as he feared the second pill wouldn't be enough, it happened.

It almost felt like a door had opened. And then, Cheng let out a groan of pain as all the Qi stored in his body rushed in his dantian, pulling the surrounding motes of Qi with a force far greater than he could muster. it felt like boiling hot water flowed into his veins, as more and more Qi poured into The center of his body, his dantian. And then, it stopped. Cheng let out a single deep breath, and promptly passed out from exhaustion. He had done it. without using a cultivation manual, he had reached the Qi condensation realm, guided by his weird, faded memories, and his perception. the last part was suspect, as it was what allowed him to collect motes of Qi without using the gathering pills, shortening the time needed to breakthrough, enough to be noticeable, as he went from struggling with the work, his prepubesant body too weak physically to chop wood for hours at a time, to being able to keep up with the senior outer disciples.

Cheng's eyes snapped open as the first rays of dawn filtered through the cracks in his cabin wall. Something was different. Profoundly different.

He sat up slowly, marveling at how... aware he felt. The air around him was no longer just air. He could see them—the motes of Qi—without the aid of a Gathering Pill. They danced around him, less vivid than when under the pill's influence, but unmistakably present. Constant. Real.

He rose to his feet, feeling oddly light. Not physically stronger, exactly—his body was still that of a child, with all its limitations—but different nonetheless. Something within him had fundamentally changed.

Curious, Jiang reached inward, toward that space in his core where he now knew his dantian resided. He could feel it, a small but undeniable reservoir of Qi. His Qi. On instinct, he drew upon it, pulling a thread of energy into his limbs.

"Wha—!"

A startled yelp escaped him as he suddenly found himself mid-air, having jumped more than two meters straight up. His head nearly collided with the cabin's low ceiling before he crashed back down, stumbling but remaining upright.

"Holy shit." he breathed, steadying himself against the wall. His legs trembled not from weakness but excitement.

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For a moment, he simply stood there, feeling the Qi flowing through him, responding to his will. It wasn't much. Probably not even a trickle compared to what Elder Feng must command.

But it was his to use. A slow smile spread across his face, wiping away the perpetual weariness that had marked his time in the outer sect. He knew what he had to do next.

The Disciple Pavilion stood near the border between the outer and inner sect territories. Unlike the humble structures that housed the outer disciples, this building rose three stories tall, its white stone walls carved with images of clouds and mountains. Four jade pillars supported its curved roof, each engraved with characters too ancient for Jiang to decipher.

It was here, Wu Jinhai had once mentioned, that disciples reported breakthroughs and received acknowledgment of their advancement.

Jiang approached with measured steps, conscious of the stares from other outer disciples going about their morning chores. He hadn't gone to the herb fields or the woodcutting station as usual. Such behavior alone was enough to draw attention, to the few who had seen his rapid advancement.

At the pavilion's entrance, an older disciple sat at a stone desk, recording names in a massive ledger. His robes, though simple, were of better quality than Jiang's—marking him as one of the few outer disciples who had achieved Qi Condensation but not yet qualified for the inner sect.

"State your business." the disciple said without looking up, his brush continuing to move across the paper.

"Junior Jiang Cheng is here to report my breakthrough, Senior." Cheng replied, keeping his voice steady despite the excitement bubbling within him.

The brush paused. The disciple looked up, eyes narrowing as he took in Jiang's small stature and tattered robes.

"You?" Disbelief colored his tone. "How long have you been in the outer sect?"

"Two years, senior brother."

A derisive snort. "Two years. And you claim to have reached Qi Condensation?"

Jiang met his gaze evenly. "Yes senior brother."

The senior disciple set down his brush, rising from his seat. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a face that might have been handsome if not for the disdain twisting his features.

It wasn't like he was disdainful because Chen had broken through. rather, perhaps his age. perhaps there was a minimum requirement age wise for the inner sect.

"Very well. Follow me."

The senior disciple spoke, whispering another set of words, more so to himself. "Another frog in a well. Hmph. i will see your punishment."

he spoke to himself, already convinced Chen was lying, as he seemed too young to be in the Qi condensation realm. no. that was wrong. it was the fact that he was in the Qi condensation reals, and was brought into the outer sect, meaning his talent was too low. too average.

He led Cheng into the pavilion's main hall, a circular chamber dominated by a Big stone pillar at its center. The pillar, easily three meters in diameter, rose from floor to ceiling. Its surface was marred by countless indentations of varying sizes and depths—some barely visible, others the size of a man's fist.

"This," the senior disciple gestured toward the pillar, "is the Strength Measuring Pillar. Every disciple who achieves Qi Condensation must leave their mark upon it. Dent it, and you pass. If you can dent it that is."

Cheng approached the pillar slowly, aware of the eyes of the senior brother on him. He felt his gaze, full of distain, already in his eyes, Chen to be a liar. A child claiming to have achieved in two years what many failed to accomplish in six or more.

After all, if they could breakthrough in two years, they should already be in the inner sect.

The stone was cool beneath his palm as he placed his hand against it, feeling its solidity, its resistance. He closed his eyes, reaching inward to the well of Qi in his dantian.

Unlike his accidental jump earlier, this would require control. Precision. Intent. He drew upon his Qi, feeling it flow up from his core, through the channels in his arm, concentrating it in his palm.

"Sometime today, junior brother. Or do yuo dare lie in The falling star sect!" the senior disciple's voice mocked from behind him.

Cheng ignored him. Instead of rushing, he focused on his Qi, shaping it, moving it.

There was something intuitive about it, as if his body—or perhaps some part of his fragmented memories—knew what to do even if his conscious mind did not.

When he felt ready, he opened his eyes, drew back his fist, and struck.

His small fist connected with the pillar, but what followed was no child's blow. Qi erupted from his strike, a concentrated burst that sent a shockwave through the stone.

Lifting his fist, he saw a decent imprint on the pillar, like a small crater the shape of his fist.

The interesting part, was that he already felt liek he could do better. as if experiencing this caused his memories, foggy as they may be, to let out all sorts of absurd ideas? How does one even punch with the will of a thousand dragon elephants. No. What in hell's name was a dragon elephant??

"Impossible." The senior whispered behind him.

The senior disciple approached, disbelief written across his features as he examined the mark. "How did you...?"

"Is it sufficient?" Cheng asked quietly.

"I suppose it is." the senior disciple who Jiang still didn't have the pleasure of knowing his name spoke, and spoke again.

"Follow me, Junior Chen."

As Jiang Cheng followed the Senior disciple,

Elder Feng appeared beside the pillar, too fast for anyone below the foundation establishment to even perceive.

His ancient eyes fixed on Jiang's retreating back, then on the mark in the stone pillar.

"Interesting." the elder murmured, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the now-silent hall. "Most interesting indeed."