The celestial melody of the Celestial Chorus, whether a true communion with the heavens or a fevered vision, had left Li Wei with a profound sense of harmony, his qi pulsing clearer as if his nascent Golden Core and fledgling Nascent Soul had been refined by the song. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to affirm his path to immortality. 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 transformative new challenge: "The Hidden Forge, where the cultivator crafts the soul itself, shaping its essence in the fire of the Dao."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, forges were mystical crucibles—sacred fires where cultivators refined their spirits or crafted divine artifacts to ascend to higher realms. The scroll's description was more introspective but equally compelling: "Kindle the forge within the heart, let the soul be shaped by the Dao's flame, and rise with a spirit purified. Craft with clarity, for impurity dulls the soul's light." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and moments of clarity, felt a surge of determination. His earlier attempts at forging—the Spirit Forge and Celestial Forge—had ended in shattered blades, but this trial called for shaping his Nascent Soul itself, a challenge both daunting and exhilarating. His body, ravaged by hunger, fever, and the throbbing infections in his hand and arm, ached with every movement, but the valley's mystical aura and the scroll's promise fueled his resolve.
Li Wei prepared with the reverence of a smith forging a divine relic. 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 spiritual flame. 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 "kindle the forge within," so he chose a twilight hour, when the valley's energy felt most potent, to begin. He resolved to visualize his Nascent Soul as molten light, shaped by the fire of his intent.
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 a fiery intensity. He focused on his dantian, visualizing his Golden Core as a radiant star, his Nascent Soul a glowing figure ready to be forged. The scroll urged him to "shape the soul," so he imagined his qi as a flame, melting his Nascent Soul into a molten form, ready to be molded into a purer essence. The warmth in his dantian surged, pulsing in rhythm with his chants, and he felt a tingling sensation, as if his soul were truly being shaped.
Hours passed, his body trembling from the strain, his fever intensifying, the pain in his infected wounds throbbing with each heartbeat. In his trance, the valley faded, replaced by a fiery expanse—a forge of light where his Nascent Soul stood, molten and radiant, surrounded by flames of qi. A voice, resonant and commanding, echoed: "Can your soul withstand the fire?" Li Wei's heart raced, doubts flickering—the scroll's jest, the betrayals, his frail body—but he chanted louder, visualizing his Nascent Soul taking shape, a luminous figure stronger than before. The flames roared, and he felt his qi surge, but his body faltered, the fever spiking as dizziness gripped him. He collapsed by the altar, gasping, Azure Dragon whining and nudging his face.
The Starstone felt warmer, as if infused with the forge's fire, and the warmth in his dantian pulsed stronger, clearer, as if his Nascent Soul had been refined. Had he truly shaped his soul, or was it another fevered vision? The scroll promised purification but warned of impurity, and Li Wei chose to believe he'd passed the test, even at a cost. He scribbled in his notebook, hands trembling: "Hidden Forge kindled. Soul crafted, qi purified. Body falters, spirit rises." 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 fiery forge and his molten Nascent Soul. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, called it a "divine crafting," urging him to brew an elixir with the valley's water to stabilize the soul. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, praised his effort but insisted he seek medical care: "The forge shapes the soul, but the body must endure." Chen Xiu saw it as proof of ascension, while Zhao Feng, skeptical, suggested it was delirium, sparking a heated debate that tested Li Wei's leadership. He hid his worsening fever and the throbbing pain in his wounds, 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 Hidden Forge purified the soul, 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 soul shaped by the fire of the Dao, one fiery trance at a time toward immortality.