Chapter 5 :Step into Cultivation
The forest was silent, save for the gentle murmur of the spirit-veined stream. Moonlight fell upon the corpse of the Bronze-Scaled River Serpent, its once-mighty coils now lifeless, scales dim.
Lin Feng sat cross-legged beside it, his body wrapped in tattered robes, wounds seeping faint traces of blood. The beast core rested in his palm, pulsing with faint light, each beat echoing in rhythm with his own heart.
His eyes were calm, sharper than they had ever been.
"This," he whispered to himself, "is where I begin."
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For generations, the Lin Clan had taught its youth that cultivation was not merely a pursuit of strength, but a war against weakness. To temper body and soul was to step against Heaven's decree that mortals should die fragile and forgotten.
Lin Feng had memorized those teachings, but until now, they were only words. Today, with his family's ashes behind him and a beast's blood still drying on his skin, the truth burned within his bones.
Survival demands power. Revenge demands transcendence.
He set the beast core before him, its glow illuminating the night, and placed a Spirit-Nourishing Fruit beside it. His father had once explained the path clearly:
Qi Condensation was the first true step of cultivation. One must open the meridians, circulate the breath of Heaven and Earth, and form a foundation of flowing qi.
The early stages were fragile, the flow uneven, the body resistant. Only with perseverance could one ascend.
And only those who reached Qi Condensation Stage 7 could gather qi to their legs, run faster than arrows, leap above treetops, and truly touch the skies.
Lin Feng's lips curved faintly. "Seven stages before I may fly… then let me take the first."
He closed his eyes, centering his breath. The Nine Vein Circulation Art stirred in his memory, each route of qi etched into him from childhood lessons.
He bit into the Spirit-Nourishing Fruit, sweet juice flooding his mouth. Warmth rushed down his throat, spreading through his meridians. His dantian, still fragile, trembled as if awakening.
Then, with a deep breath, he pressed the beast core to his chest.
The serpent's essence surged into him.
It was violent—wild currents of spiritual energy tore into his meridians like a flood into a broken dam. His body shook violently, veins bulging, sweat pouring from his skin. The taste of iron filled his mouth as blood trickled from his lips.
Control it… guide it!
His teeth clenched, his hands forming trembling seals as he forced the Nine Vein Circulation Art into motion. Energy roared like a storm through his body, threatening to shred him from within.
But in that storm, the Primordial Lin Bloodline pulsed.
It drank the wild energy, absorbed it, tamed it. What should have burned his veins to ash instead fueled them, stretching, widening, strengthening. His body ached, his bones creaked, but he endured.
Hours passed. The moon sank, the sky brightened.
At last, Lin Feng's eyes snapped open.
His breath poured out like mist, visible in the air. His wounds had sealed, his limbs light, his senses sharper than ever before. He could feel it—the faint yet undeniable flow of qi coursing through his veins.
Qi Condensation, Stage One.
The weakest of cultivators. A step so small that great clans would laugh, and mighty sects would scoff.
But for Lin Feng, it was everything.
"I have stepped onto the path," he whispered, gripping the beast core tightly. "From this day forward, I will not crawl in the dirt as prey. I will walk as a cultivator. And one day, I will stand above them all."
His voice was low, but within it burned a fire brighter than the sun.
As dawn spread across the horizon, Lin Feng rose to his feet. His body still bore scars, but his spine was straight, his eyes resolute.
The world had tried to bury him. Instead, it had awakened him.
The path of cultivation had opened.
The path of revenge had been carved.
And the boy of ashes was gone.