The introspective clarity gained from gazing into the Starlit Mirror had left Li Wei with a renewed sense of purpose, his belief in the Dao reaffirmed even as he grappled with the possibility that his visions might be delusions. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to resonate with the warmth in his dantian—a warmth he believed was his nascent Golden Core, nurturing a fledgling Nascent Soul. Azure Dragon, his scruffy spirit beast, remained a loyal companion, curled by the stone altar as Li Wei pored over the scroll, its worn bamboo slats a sacred guide through his trials. The scroll's latest passage unveiled a protective new challenge: "The Qi Veil, where the cultivator weaves a shield of spirit to guard against mortal distractions and spiritual foes."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, protective veils were mystical barriers—shields of qi that deflected physical or spiritual attacks, preserving the cultivator's focus on the Dao. The scroll's description was more introspective but equally compelling: "Raise the veil of qi to shield the heart, for the mortal world and its shadows seek to sway the path. Weave with purity, lest the veil become a cage." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and moments of clarity, felt a surge of determination. The betrayals of Wang Hao and Lin Tao, the hiker's mockery, and his own lingering thoughts of Mei Ling's smile had tested his focus. His body, ravaged by hunger, fever, and the throbbing infection in his hand, ached with every movement, but the valley's mystical aura and the scroll's promise urged him to forge this shield.
Li Wei prepared with the reverence of a guardian fortifying a sacred sanctuary. He reinforced his altar with smooth stones, their surfaces carved with star-like patterns inspired by the Starstone to channel the valley's qi. He placed the scroll, jade slip, Starstone, and stolen booklet at the altar's center, surrounded by the ancient tree's glowing blossoms, their light pulsing like a protective aura. Azure Dragon watched, head tilted, as Li Wei sipped the valley's crystal-clear water, its coolness a fleeting relief against his persistent fever. The scroll suggested a meditative trance to "weave the veil," so he chose a twilight hour, when the valley's mist swirled thickly, to begin.
As the sky deepened to a violet hue, Li Wei sat by the altar, the Starstone in one hand, the jade slip pressed to his chest. He chanted the scroll's incantations, their rhythmic tones blending with the valley's whispers, which seemed to hum with protective energy. He focused on his dantian, visualizing his Golden Core as a radiant star, its light weaving strands of qi into a shimmering veil around the valley. The scroll urged him to "shield the heart," so he imagined the veil blocking mortal distractions—his mother's worried voice, Mei Ling's smile, the forum's ridicule—and spiritual foes like the Phantom Sect or the Whispering Shadows. The warmth in his dantian surged, pulsing in rhythm with his chants, and he felt a tingling sensation, as if his qi were truly forming a barrier.
Hours passed, his body trembling from the strain, his fever intensifying, the pain in his infected hand throbbing with each heartbeat. In his trance, the valley faded, replaced by a vision of a glowing veil encircling him, its surface rippling like liquid starlight. Shadows pressed against it—faces of Wang Hao, Lin Tao, the hiker—whispering doubts: "Your path is madness." A flicker of Mei Ling's smile broke his focus, her kindness a mortal pull, but Li Wei chanted louder, visualizing his Nascent Soul reinforcing the veil. "The Dao is my shield," he declared, his voice hoarse but resolute. The shadows retreated, and the veil glowed brighter, but his body faltered, dizziness shattering the trance. He awoke gasping, slumped by the altar, Azure Dragon whining and nudging his face.
The Starstone felt warmer, as if infused with the veil's energy, and the warmth in his dantian pulsed stronger, clearer, as if the ritual had fortified his spirit. Had he truly woven a Qi Veil, or was it another fevered vision? The scroll promised protection but warned of a cage, and Li Wei chose to believe he'd succeeded, even if his body paid the price. He scribbled in his notebook, hands trembling: "Qi Veil raised. Mortal ties severed, shadows repelled. Body falters, spirit endures." The valley's whispers seemed to approve, their murmurs blending with the evening breeze, the ancient tree's blossoms glowing brighter.
During the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei shared the ritual, describing the glowing veil and the retreating shadows. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, called it a "divine shield," urging him to brew an elixir to strengthen it. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, praised his focus but insisted he seek medical care: "The veil protects the soul, but the body must endure." Chen Xiu saw it as proof of spiritual mastery, while Zhao Feng, skeptical, suggested it was a hallucination, sparking a heated debate that tested Li Wei's leadership. He hid his worsening fever and the throbbing pain in his hand, fearing their concern might fracture the sect's unity.
As dawn broke, Li Wei sat by the pool, the Starstone warm in his hands, Azure Dragon snoring softly. The scroll promised that the Qi Veil guarded the path, but also warned of greater trials. The valley's energy, his sect's support, and the scroll's guidance bolstered him, even as his body weakened. With his Golden Core and Nascent Soul pulsing as beacons, Li Wei felt ready to face the next challenge, his spirit shielded by the veil of his qi, one protective chant at a time toward immortality.