"Vast rivers and deep waters sometimes give birth to unconscious water phantasms. Their sentience is far below that of a Slime."
"The more they lack, the more they yearn. They instinctively seek out the spirits of other beings. If they're lucky enough to devour the lingering spirit of a freshly-deceased bird or beast, they can inherit its intelligence and take on its form."
"Some individuals go a long time without such fortune. Nourished by water, they grow stronger over time. At that point, ordinary animal spirits can no longer attract them—after all, they only get one chance at shapeshifting in their entire life."
The stars shimmered high above; the moon hung full like a silver plate.
Jiangxue leaned against the railing, gazing down at the Bisha River below as he recounted the origins of the giant fish to Victor Wang.
"So... they can eat people? Isn't fishing dangerous then?"
"As long as your spirit is intact and firm, water phantasms won't dare approach. But now and then, someone who merely visited a river—or nearly drowned—comes back with a drastically different personality. Perhaps they were... replaced."
"What? Are you saying my spirit isn't firm enough?"
"Your spirit is very unstable. I'd wager you've used some unnatural means to forcefully enhance it."
"Uh…"
Was it due to forcefully splitting my consciousness or overexerting my mental power?
Or perhaps the repeated deaths and rebirths fractured it? Every time I reincarnate, remembering past lives always causes that soul-tearing pain...
Or maybe it's because after my last death, one-seventh of my spirit detached from my body?
There are just too many possibilities…
Jiangxue chuckled. "And so, it became the perfect opportunity. Your spirit, acting as irresistible bait, lured it in. But you bested it. Now, its pure, untapped essence will nourish your spirit in return."
That explains it... no wonder I felt so light after escaping that illusion.
But that also meant…
"So, this wasn't really a fishing cultivation—it was because you knew I'd catch a big fish?"
"Cultivation? Come on—we agreed I'd teach you swordsmanship only if you caught a big one."
"So, what I caught wasn't a big fish after all..." Victor Wang sounded disappointed. He'd thought he was some kind of fishing prodigy.
"Don't think of it like that. As long as everyone agrees it's a fish—then it is a fish."
"Sigh... is there any safe way to train the mind?"
"Interesting. You have secret techniques but don't know the normal methods? Well, let's call this your first official lesson."
"There are three standard methods of cultivating the spirit: silent comprehension, active realization, and sudden insight."
"Silent comprehension means visualization—imagine all things in the world, from flowers and birds to mountains and rivers. The clearer and more vivid the mental image, the better. Ideally, it should feel completely real."
"Once you can do that, place yourself into the image—imagine its experience and sensations. That's how the spirit grows independently of the body."
"Active realization is the usual adventuring experience. Go through all sorts of things. With enough experiences, the spirit naturally strengthens.'
"Sudden insight... can't be forced. It just happens. So, most people combine silent and active cultivation."
"Visualization, huh? I could give that a shot."
"Mm. You try that. I'll go check how that big fish's being prepared."
Victor Wang sat alone at the dining table near the railing, closed his eyes, and began visualizing.
What to imagine first? Let's start with a Slime.
But he didn't even have to try—an extremely vivid Slime appeared instantly in his mind. After all, his memory was excellent.
Alright then, next step—what would a Pyro Slime feel? Would it feel heat?
Probably not.
The Pyro Slime bounced freely across Windrise. Flames ignited wherever it touched grass. Though not very intelligent, it likely felt quite happy.
A gust blew. Rain began to fall.
Its blazing body was extinguished. It probably felt cold... maybe scared. It needed to find shelter and absorb Pyro energy to rekindle itself.
But the Pyro Slime was dumb. It panicked, spinning in circles, unable to find shelter.
It turned in place endlessly—restless, anxious.
That's fine. I've got the patience to wait until the rain stops.
Wait—who has the patience?
'I' am the Pyro Slime. 'I' don't have patience. But 'I' also don't know what else to do.
What now?
A Hilichurl came and picked 'me' up, rushing back to a small camp.
Now the rain couldn't reach me. 'I' started absorbing Pyro energy again. My warmth returned—then I was surrounded by damp firewood.
Annoying! Burn it!
The Hilichurl pinched 'me' with tongs and threw me back into the rain. I went out again... then got sealed in a little red barrel.
Trapped. No escape.
A blonde girl in a white dress appeared. What was she here for?
She was here to wipe out the Hilichurls.
"Wind Blade!"
Boom!
What happened? 'I' seemed to have exploded. But there was no pain. 'I' was dissolving. My body...
Victor Wang suddenly opened his eyes. Jiangxue had returned and was now sitting across from him.
"I don't feel much spiritual improvement."
"Heh. If it worked that fast, everyone would be a mental powerhouse already. Eat up. That phantasm-turned-fish is rare. It takes decades of buildup to take on such a real form."
"…"
After dinner, Victor Wang lay tossing and turning in bed, thinking about how familiar that visualization method felt.
Wait... isn't this basically creating your own Mewtwo simulation?
Whether silent or active cultivation, the principle was the same—experience things and feel emotions. Only silent cultivation skipped the body's involvement.
He forced himself to calm down and tried visualizing again. After several hours, he did sense a slight improvement in his spirit—but it was just too slow.
Too slow...
"Whatever. Even if I one day fall into spiritual collapse, I must grow stronger. Hopefully, I'll finish what needs doing before that happens."
In this world, those without a Vision didn't need spiritual training. Those with a Vision had their spirit grow along with their elemental reserves. Only Victor Wang could increase elemental power just by training his spirit. A rare cheat code—no way he was giving it up.
After a dreamless night, Victor Wang checked the noticeboard again the next morning. Sure enough, a new update from Mondstadt had arrived—it said the god's corpse beneath Cider Lake had been handled.
That was a dragon corpse that once supported Mondstadt City. He really wondered how the organization managed it. Dragging it away by force was out of the question—Mondstadt would sink.
But if they didn't drag it out, what method did they use?
If only I could teleport back to see...
Jiangxue was fishing again at the dock. At his signal, Victor Wang demonstrated his swordsmanship.
"Your sword skills are at the beginner stage. To progress further, you must first forget the form and then attain the intent."
He pointed his rod at the riverbank. "See those reeds over there? Pick one, toss it into the air, and as it floats down—slice off all the tufts. Once you can cut one cleanly, try ten. Once you can do ten, try a whole cluster. When you can do that, you'll have forgotten the form."
"Cutting reeds?"
"This is Dihua Marsh—plenty of reeds to go around. Chop away—no one will care. But remember: no elemental energy allowed."
"Got it."
Victor Wang circled the bridge to the opposite bank of Dihua Marsh.
Everywhere near the water was filled with fully-tufted reeds, reminding him of the poem 'Jianjia'.
His hometown lacked wetlands, so as a child, he thought reeds and cattails were the same. Only later did he learn they were similar, but not identical—jian referred to reeds, jia to cattails.
He cut one reed at the joint where green and yellow met—sturdy and flexible—then tossed it high.
Long, white, wispy tufts scattered in the wind. Dozens of threads drifted in roughly the same direction—yet each had its own whim.
Victor Wang drew the Wentian Sword and slashed. The one tuft he aimed for dodged backward on the sword's breeze. He still managed to slice it—but the gust had thrown the others into complete disarray. Their neat formation collapsed into chaos.
Cutting reeds was like slicing raindrops—similar, yet different. Raindrops fell fast and straight; reeds floated long and danced in the wind. Which was harder? Hard to say.