Chapter Four: The Bandits’ Attack

Three years had passed. Spring gave way to autumn, and time flowed on, much like the river along whose banks Bai Qi had first awoken in this world three years ago. The current slipped past faces, past old friends and their wine, and past the longing for a distant homeland.

“Grandpa Kun, I feel the flow of energy within me has grown once more,” Bai Qi exclaimed joyfully, sensing the changes in his body and smiling up at Kun.

At the foot of the mountain, about a mile from the village, Kun sat on a stone beneath an ancient locust tree whose trunk was so thick it would take five people to encircle it. Stroking his goat-like beard in satisfaction, he replied with a light-hearted tone, “Good, very good. Over these years, you’ve adapted to the spiritual energy of this world and learned to wield it with skill. You’re already a cultivator in your own right. But remember—never reveal your origins to anyone. The consequences would be unimaginable.”

Bai Qi nodded, mindful of the secrecy his origins required. Reflecting on his current state, he realized he now resembled the cultivators he had only read about back in his homeland. He never imagined he would live so authentically in such a world. Here, the path of cultivation was divided into four main realms: Heaven, Earth, Mystery, and Yellow, descending in that order, with the Yellow level marking entry into the world of cultivation. Each realm comprised ten stages, but there was a legend of two additional levels at the Yellow stage—Earth Qi and Heaven Gate, the eleventh and twelfth levels. Those who reached these rare stages would later gain early insight into the threshold of the Spirit Transformation realm. Beyond the Heaven realm lay the Palace realm, which itself split into two: the Spirit Transformation and the Void Commanding stages. Kun had never spoken of any realms higher than these, only urging Bai Qi to cultivate steadily, not rushing for quick gains. If the time came to reach higher states, Kun believed comprehension would come naturally.

Bai Qi gathered the spiritual energy within his core. A hazy, milky-white mass formed in his palm, like a ball of cotton candy, pulsing gently.

Spiritual energy was formless and colorless, but every cultivator perceived it differently. Even within the same realm, the color could vary in depth. Furthermore, each person’s “constitution” had its own attributes, most following the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth. Some cultivators, however, took unorthodox paths, using special techniques to alter their innate attributes. This was risky and the price of failure unimaginable, but success brought unparalleled rewards. Rare individuals possessed attributes stronger than the five elements, and while their potential was immense, the scarcity of compatible techniques and the harsh requirements meant most defaulted to the five-element path. Yet, some sects sought out these unique talents at any cost, for the promise of greatness.

In truth, the reason for following the elemental attributes was simple—it was the natural order, the most suitable and harmonious method of cultivation.

“Grandpa, are there any who defy these cultivation laws and are still incredibly powerful?” Bai Qi asked, using one of the strange terms Kun had once found baffling, but which had since become common parlance among the villagers.

Kun replied unhurriedly, “Yes. In the era of calamity, heroes vied for supremacy. Each region had its own mighty figures—ones who could pierce the heavens, move mountains and seas, pluck stars and seize the moon. They were all ruled by a single race, the Qiang. In that era, which lasted ten thousand years, the Qiang were the closest to the ancient spirits, and the era itself was called the ‘Pseudo-Ancient.’ The Qiang’s dominion was unmatched; all under heaven belonged to them. That age was hailed as the Zenith Era. The Qiang leader was exactly the kind of figure you spoke of—one who defied the heavens and rose with unmatched might.”

At these words, Bai Qi felt his blood surge like molten lava. He was eager for more, but Kun abruptly stopped the story.

Kun stroked his beard. “Focus on your cultivation. You don’t need to concern yourself with such things now. When you have the strength, the truths behind these tales will reveal themselves.”

“Alright,” Bai Qi replied, slightly dejected, then straightened his posture and returned his attention to the ball of energy hovering in his palm.

Kun regarded the energy in Bai Qi’s hand with a strange expression, half-speaking to himself, half to Bai Qi: “When you first began cultivating, your energy was only a faint mist, its color hard to discern. For years, I couldn’t even gauge your realm. I could only wait for you to adapt, and examine you once your energy stabilized. Now, it’s clear you’ve acclimated, and your energy is steady. But why is its color white? I don’t know. Perhaps it’s related to the aura of the world you came from.”

Since this state caused no discomfort or backlash, Bai Qi had grown used to it.

After pondering for a while, Kun said, “Qi’er, stand ten paces from me and attack.”

“Attack you?” Bai Qi was startled.

“Don’t dawdle, or tonight you’ll continue training deep in Green Mountain,” Kun said sternly.

Bai Qi sprang up and dashed to the designated spot.

Kun gestured. “Use your energy and the technique I taught you. Attack me with all your strength.”

Bai Qi nodded, set his stance, and channeled energy from his core, sending it surging through his meridians until it concentrated in his palm. With a shout, he unleashed the “Shattering Palm”—a streak of white light shot towards Kun like an arrow.

This technique, like all in this world, was tied to one’s cultivation level and guided by a corresponding method. Lacking either was futile. There were ten grades of techniques, each divided into basic, intermediate, and advanced tiers, with each grade rarer and more potent than the last. Ultimately, a cultivator’s overall abilities determined their standing. The “Shattering Palm” was a close-combat technique Kun had taught Bai Qi to help him adapt when he initially struggled with the world’s energy. Though only a second-grade basic technique, it was highly practical and well-suited to Bai Qi’s needs.

With a thunderous impact, the energy struck where Kun had stood, sending dust and mist billowing outward. As the air cleared, Bai Qi saw that the spot was empty—Kun had vanished. Bai Qi scanned the surroundings but found nothing.

“No need to look, I’m above you,” Kun’s voice rang out, startling Bai Qi. He looked up to see Kun gently descending, as if floating, to land beside him.

Kun gazed at Bai Qi, momentarily recalling someone from his past—the similarity was fleeting, but his seasoned intuition sensed it. Yet, like a taste on the tongue, the feeling faded with time.

Regaining his composure, Kun said, “Your cultivation level is still Yellow, but already at the ninth stage—a simple, objective assessment.”

“Grandpa, what do you mean by ‘objective’? I’m not sure I understand,” Bai Qi asked, somewhat confused.

Kun turned away, hands clasped behind his back. “As I said, your energy and constitution are unusual. Even though you didn’t understand how to use spiritual energy before, your comprehension now far exceeds others. The density of your energy is extraordinary—your body can store much more than most at your level.”

Bai Qi couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride, but Kun’s next words doused it completely.

“However, each time you advance a stage, you require much more energy than others. The more you give, the more you gain. Your techniques are stronger than their standard power, but they also consume your energy faster. In this world, many young cultivators are born with superior physiques and have spent years hunting low-level spirit beasts around Green Mountain. Some are ruthless, even at a young age—killing is commonplace. Strength is everything. Though there are laws, you know how tangled the networks of power can be. So, I’ve thought of a way for you: the Art of Spirit Severance.”

“I see. But, Grandpa, what exactly is the Art of Spirit Severance?”

“Don’t play games. I’m doing this for your own good. Since you come from an extraordinary place, I’m going to be ruthless and have you go against the grain.” Kun’s eyes flashed with determination as he lectured Bai Qi. Sensing the severity in Kun’s gaze, Bai Qi shivered and thought about slipping back to the village, but as soon as he shifted his foot, Kun barked, “If you leave, tonight you’ll be training deep in Green Mountain again.”

Bai Qi’s heart sank, but Kun continued, “Don’t overthink it. This is for your own good. If you ever wish to return, this may be your best chance.”

“I…” Bai Qi began, but was interrupted by the chaotic, braying cries of horses. Looking toward the village, he saw clouds of dust rolling in.

“Something’s wrong! Bandits are attacking the village. We must go!” Kun’s face darkened.

Bai Qi responded at once, surging his energy and racing toward the village.

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