As the cold energy seeped into his lower dantian, Li Xin promptly adjusted his seated posture. He crossed his legs atop his thighs and placed both hands neatly on his knees. Then he focused solely on his dantian.

  The medicinal qi of the Pale Azure Jade Pill began spreading slowly along his meridians—cold, yet astonishingly clear and pure energy.

  “Ghk—!”

  A sharp pain pierced through his entire body. The pill’s medicinal qi was forcing the meridians open, pushing against them to widen the pathways. Meridians were the channels that connected every corner of a cultivator’s body, and the core system that determined the efficiency of qi circulation. The wider the meridians, the faster and more abundant the flow of qi could be handled. However, unless one possessed Heaven-bestowed Meridians, expanding them came with excruciating pain.

  “Hahk…!”

  Li Xin expelled rough breaths as if his throat were being scraped raw. His lips dried and cracked, and cold sweat streamed down his back. The flow of qi coursing through every part of his body—it was slow, rough, and resistant. Each time the medicinal qi shoved against a meridian, pain surged as if his flesh were being torn apart, but Li Xin did not rise, he had to endure it.

  When qi surged in, he could not simply let it pass through, he had to draw it in, wrap it, and refine it. Only then could the meridians widen without tearing, becoming fully his own.

  Time passed like that, and at the end of unbearable pain, a fleeting sensation of cool clarity swept through him, as if something had broken open. Following that gap, qi flowed far more smoothly and naturally than before.

  “Hoo…”

  With trembling hands, Li Xin gripped his sweat-soaked clothes. The meridians were now wide enough. The flow of qi was incomparably smoother and deeper than in the past.

  He slowly inhaled. The clear medicinal qi of the Pale Azure Jade Pill still filled his body. Now was when it truly began. Li Xin immediately regulated his breathing. Listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, he focused on the subtly surging flow of qi.

  His lower dantian warmed as if heated, and qi gushed forth as though a hidden spring had burst open. That qi began flowing naturally through the meridians he had expanded in advance. Though invisible to the eyes, the meridians clearly existed, and yet, those meridians partially overlapped with the actual channels.

  As the paths of the meridians and channels intersected, strong resistance was felt. A crucial route that pierced the upper body and connected to the ears and brain—the Yang Linking Vessel. Only by fully integrating this channel with the meridians could one enter the second layer. Li Xin guided the qi rising from his dantian straight into the Yang Linking Vessel.

  “Ghk…!”

  The next instant, wrenching agony twisted his entire body. This was not simple pain, blood vessels roiled, nerves felt as if they were splitting apart. Qi scraped beneath his skin and burrowed into his brain.

  Endure it… this is the process of integration.

  Li Xin gritted his teeth. Even if qi brought pain, the flow could not be interrupted. He drew qi up once more from the dantian and slowly pressed it into the Yang Linking Vessel. The resisting channel gradually opened. The qi born from the Pale Azure Jade Pill seeped in, melting through like ice thawing on a frozen river, widening the path. As time passed, the resistance steadily weakened, and eventually the flow of qi connected smoothly.

  Somewhere within his body, a small yet unmistakable sound rang out. At the same time, his consciousness cleared to a startling degree. The Yang Linking Vessel had merged into the meridians, collapsing one of the ‘walls’ that had been obstructing qi flow all this time.

  …Second layer.

  “Second layer.”

  He had broken through his realm for the first time. Something that would have been impossible without the Pale Azure Jade Pill’s medicinal effect, yet he had accomplished it.

  He was now a cultivator of Stage One, Second Layer. Stage One was the phase of refining the Qi Channels. The core of this stage was merging the body’s eight major channels—the Eight Qi Channels—into the meridians.

  Only when all eight channels flowed together without obstruction would one reach Stage One, Ninth Layer, the realm of Completion.

  Li Xin had only just succeeded in linking the first stream, the Yang Linking Vessel, much still remained.

  Yin Linking Vessel, Yang Heel Vessel, Yin Heel Vessel, Chong Vessel, Conception Vessel, Governing Vessel, Belt Vessel—only by connecting the remaining seven could true completion be achieved.

  Li Xin slowly closed his eyes. He organized where he currently stood, and how far he still had to go. Stage One was merely preparation for cultivation—it was the process of widening internal pathways, removing resistance, and creating a ‘vessel’ through which qi could flow smoothly. And the larger that vessel, the greater the amount of qi it could later contain.

  After Stage One came Stage Two. Stage Two was the phase of truly accumulating qi, also known as the Qi Accumulation Stage. In the past, high-grade pills like Qi Accumulation Pills were essential for this phase, but times had changed. Raising one’s realm first, then reconstructing the body based on that power.

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  Body Cleansing—once this process was complete, the imbalanced essence, qi, and spirit would converge into one. Their total quantity would be aligned to an average baseline, completing the foundation of a cultivator. Because of this, anyone could now enter Stage Two with relative ease, but the disparity in actual strength had grown even wider.

  That was why many cultivators, even after reaching Stage One Ninth Layer—Completion—did not attempt to break through lightly. They remained for years, sometimes decades, polishing their essence, qi, and spirit, but Li Xin was different.

  Where others forcibly refined qi, regulated breathing, and trained their essence, qi, and spirit—Li Xin accomplished all of that simply by drawing a single talisman. It was a method only Li Xin could use. Most talisman masters did not draw talismans in such volume. The reason was not merely exhaustion of qi. Talisman crafting was, at its core, a technical art. It was a means to cultivation, not an end in itself. Thus, most cultivators treated talismans merely as tools. They learned a few necessary talismans for combat, or used them briefly only when required. The lower the rank of the talisman master, the more pronounced this tendency became. As one’s realm rose, perception broadened and hand control naturally refined. There was no need to cling to low-grade talismans at a low realm. That was the ‘common sense’ accepted in this world, but Li Xin was different.

  Up until now, he had poured all of his qi, time, and mental strength solely into talismans. The two-stroke talisman, the Strength Talisman. There were many talisman masters who could draw it better than Li Xin. Those of higher realms could easily complete a two-stroke talisman.

  However, at Stage One, First Layer, there were very few who could draw the Strength Talisman with Li Xin’s level of precision. The Strength Talisman was normally handled at the second or third layer. That alone required a certain quantity of qi and fine control, yet Li Xin had only just entered the second layer, and before that, he had achieved such results while still at the first layer. That was precisely why Liu Guangjin had taken interest in him. A person who produced results beyond their realm. The world called such people by a single word—a genius.

  ***

  Why had he sought to raise his realm in the first place. It was not to fight, nor to surpass others—it was solely to draw talismans. Li Xin recalled the diagram of the Warm Heart Talisman and lightly moved his fingers while channeling qi. It did not feel strenuous. There was no subtle trembling in his arms, no imbalance in qi. Li Xin was confident now that he could draw the Warm Heart Talisman.

  He carefully opened the box he had received from Liu Guangjin. Inside were neatly arranged brushes, ink, and paper. Li Xin took out the three materials one by one and lined them up on the desk, then slowly exhaled.

  The realm was ready. The materials were sufficient. Now all that remained was to draw. Fear of failure was an emotion unfit for drawing the Warm Heart Talisman. He quietly dripped water onto the inkstone. Holding the Danqing Ink, he ground it slowly, and a faint fragrance spread. Danqing Ink was not dark. Its color was thin, and its spread was even. Rather than producing heavy saturation, it was used to allow ink to disperse uniformly on paper. It was a material necessary to convey the emotion of a stroke without distortion.

  When enough ink had gathered, Li Xin lifted the brush. A brush made of weasel hair, balancing resilience and delicacy. The tip could clearly etch both the beginning and end of a line.

  The paper was Oil-Gloss Paper. With low absorbency, if the brush was too heavy the line would bleed, and if too light it would leave no trace at all. That was why it was honest.

  Exact pressure. Exact direction. Without both aligning, not a single line could be left behind.

  Li Xin carefully loaded the brush with ink. The Warm Heart Talisman. A talisman that stabilized the mind. If the mental image of the one drawing it wavered, the form itself became inaccurate.

  Li Xin released one more deep breath. Then slowly lowered the brush tip onto the paper.

  The first stroke—a gently curving line arcing from left to right. It had to flow like rippling water, at a steady pace, but at that moment, unnecessary thoughts seeped into his mind.

  Is this line tilted too much? With this curvature, the second stroke won’t align…

  Stray thoughts. That slight disturbance reached his fingertips, and the brush trembled minutely.

  Li Xin stopped the brush. After staring at the paper for a moment, he shook his head—It was a failure.

  He had never expected to succeed on the first try anyway. He lifted the brush again and took out a fresh sheet of paper. The ink in the inkstone still held its viscosity, and the resilience of the Qingyou Brush remained unchanged. There was only one thing he needed to do now. Move his hand before stray thoughts could intrude.

  Second attempt. The line continued, but the force subtly twisted midway. The stroke bent slightly downward—failure.

  Third attempt. The brush tip moved as if flowing naturally. Speed, angle, pressure—everything was appropriate.

  Got it.

  The first stroke of the Warm Heart Talisman. Only now had he succeeded in drawing a line imbued with his intent. But the true difficulty lay ahead.

  The second stroke. A curve rising to envelop the first line from below. Li Xin regulated his breathing and steadied his mind. Let emotion flow, but without wavering. Like a breeze brushing across a tranquil lake.

  As he calmed his emotions, his fingertips responded naturally, yet the line curved subtly off, and the talisman was ruined. There had been too much qi.

  I’ve just broken through my realm. My qi probably hasn’t stabilized yet.

  Li Xin quietly took out a fourth sheet. And the failures continued. The fifth failed due to brush direction. The sixth because the ink bled. The seventh because the line broke awkwardly. Li Xin took out the eighth sheet.

  This time, I can succeed.

  The lingering sensation in his fingers, the brush’s resilience, the ink’s viscosity, the grain of the paper. All of it was beginning to settle into his hands. Above all, stray thoughts were disappearing. A far quieter mind than before. Within it, only one emotion remained clearly.

  This sheet is the last.

  Eight attempts were his limit. Even without completing the talisman. Even after raising his realm, talisman crafting still consumed immense mental energy and qi simultaneously.

  I will succeed.

  By tomorrow, this sensation would be gone. Then he would have to recover the feel from the beginning again.

  Li Xin evenly coated the brush tip with ink and quietly inhaled. Qi was clearly ordered, and his mind settled into stillness, and then—the brush tip touched the paper. His heartbeat was steady, and only the sensation of drawing the line remained at his fingertips.

  The first stroke of the Warm Heart Talisman. A line continuing without interruption. The moment he lifted the brush, he moved directly into the second stroke. A curve rising to wrap around the first line—softly, naturally, connecting as if continuing the same flow.

  The two strokes became one. The flow did not break, and the balance did not collapse. Li Xin lifted the brush. The lines were clean and concise, with even ink spread. The flow of qi was flawless, without the slightest deviation.

  At that moment, a faint tremor rippled through the paper.