Jiang Tian was jolted awake by Zhou Wei shaking his shoulder.
"Get up! Elder Fang hates latecomers. If you miss breakfast, you don't eat until lunch."
The four roommates scrambled to dress and rushed to the common hall, where a crowd of miscellaneous disciples had already gathered. The hall was plain and functional—long wooden tables, simple benches, and a serving counter where stern-faced cooks ladled out porridge and steamed buns.
"The food's not bad," Zhou Wei said, shoveling rice porridge into his mouth. "At least the sect doesn't starve us."
After breakfast, Elder Fang appeared, holding a stack of worn manuals.
"New disciples, come forward!"
Jiang Tian and five other newcomers lined up. Elder Fang distributed the manuals with the enthusiasm of someone passing out moldy vegetables.
"Basic Qi Condensation Method," Elder Fang announced in a bored tone. "First layer: sense spiritual qi. Second layer: guide it into your meridians. Third layer: condense it in your dantian. Fourth layer: form a qi cyclone. Fifth layer: achieve perfect circulation. Congratulations, you now know everything I'm required to teach you. Questions?"
One nervous boy raised his hand.
"Elder, how long does it usually take to reach the first layer?"
"Depends on your talent. Someone with nine-vein immortal root? A few days. Someone with seven-vein mortal root?"
He glanced at Zhou Wei.
"A few months to a year. Any other questions? No? Good. Dismissed."
As the other disciples scattered to their assigned duties, Jiang Tian clutched the manual and headed toward the Sword Washing Pool, located on the western edge of the outer sect grounds.
The pool was larger than he'd expected—a circular stone basin about thirty feet across, fed by a natural spring that bubbled up from underground. The water had a faint reddish tinge, and the air around it carried a sharp, metallic scent.
An older miscellaneous disciple was waiting there—a gangly youth named Sun Bo who looked perpetually exhausted.
"You're the new guy assigned to help me?" Sun Bo asked.
"That's right. Jiang Tian."
"Well, Jiang Tian, congratulations. You've got the worst job in the outer sect." Sun Bo gestured at the pool. "Every day, inner sect disciples come here after training. They kill demonic beasts, spar with each other, get covered in blood and guts. Then they wash their weapons here. Our job is to keep the pool clean."
"Doesn't look that hard," Jiang Tian observed.
Sun Bo laughed bitterly.
"Wait until you've scrubbed blood stains and beast gore for eight hours straight. Plus, we have to drain and refill the entire pool once a week. That takes all day. And if any inner sect disciple complains about the water quality? We get punished."
"When's the next draining?"
"Tomorrow, actually. You picked a great time to start." Sun Bo sighed. "But today, we just maintain it. Skim off any debris, scrub the edges, make sure the spring is flowing properly. Come on, I'll show you."
As Sun Bo explained the duties, Jiang Tian studied the pool carefully. The reddish water wasn't just dirty—it seemed to shimmer with a faint energy. When the morning breeze rippled the surface, he could have sworn he saw tiny sparks of light dancing across it.
"Senior Brother Sun," Jiang Tian said slowly. "This water... what exactly is in it?"
Sun Bo shrugged. "Blood, mostly. Demonic beast blood, weapon oil, probably some spiritual residue from the inner disciples' qi. Why?"
"Doesn't spiritual residue have value?"
"In theory, sure. But this stuff is all mixed together—chaotic and impure. Nobody would cultivate using it. It'd probably cripple your meridians or poison your dantian." Sun Bo picked up a long-handled brush. "That's why we just throw it away. Now stop asking weird questions and start scrubbing."
For the rest of the morning, Jiang Tian worked mechanically, but his mind was racing.
Demonic beast blood. Weapon qi. Spiritual residue from inner sect disciples.
Everyone treated it as waste. But Jiang Tian's father had been a hunter, and he'd taught his son an important principle:
"One man's trash is another man's treasure. The secret is knowing which is which."
When lunch break came, Sun Bo headed back to the common hall, but Jiang Tian lingered by the pool. He knelt at the edge and dipped his finger into the water.
The moment his skin made contact, he felt it—a tingling sensation, like tiny needles pricking his fingertip. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it was definitely... something.
"Energy," Jiang Tian whispered. "There's definitely energy in this water."
He pulled out the Basic Qi Condensation Method manual and flipped through it. The technique described how to sense spiritual qi in the environment—pure, gentle energy that flowed through all things. Cultivators would meditate, open their spiritual senses, and gradually draw this qi into their bodies.
But Jiang Tian couldn't sense normal spiritual qi. His four-vein mortal root was too weak, his meridians too narrow. The gentle approach wouldn't work for him.
What if he tried something less gentle?
"Probably a terrible idea," he muttered to himself. Then he grinned. "But I'm full of terrible ideas."
That evening, after his duties ended, Jiang Tian returned to the dormitory to find his roommates already cultivating. Zhou Wei sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, breathing in a steady rhythm. Chen Long was doing the same, though sweat beaded his forehead from the effort. Even Wu Ming had woken up long enough to attempt meditation.
Jiang Tian joined them, opening the manual and following the instructions.
*"Clear your mind. Breathe naturally. Extend your spiritual sense outward. Feel the qi flowing around you..."*
He tried. He really did.
One hour passed. Then two. Then three.
Nothing. Not even the faintest whisper of spiritual qi.
Zhou Wei opened his eyes and sighed. "No luck, huh?"
"Don't feel bad. I didn't sense anything for the first month either. With your four-vein root..." Zhou Wei trailed off diplomatically.
"It's fine," Jiang Tian said, standing up and stretching. "I'll figure something out."
"Where are you going?" Chen Long asked. "It's almost curfew."
"Just taking a walk. Need to clear my head."
He slipped out of the dormitory before anyone could question him further.
---
The Sword Washing Pool looked different at night.
Moonlight reflected off the crimson water, making it glow with an eerie beauty. The sharp metallic scent seemed stronger in the darkness. And the energy Jiang Tian had felt earlier—that tingling sensation—was more pronounced now, almost palpable.
He circled the pool slowly, thinking.
Normal cultivation required sensing gentle spiritual qi and slowly absorbing it. A process that could take months or years for someone with poor aptitude.
But what if he didn't try to sense it? What if he just... jumped in?
"This is insane," he told himself. "Sun Bo said the chaotic energy could cripple meridians or poison a dantian."
Then again, Jiang Tian's meridians were already narrow and twisted. His dantian was already the size of a pea. How much worse could they get?
"Father always said: when you have nothing to lose, take the risks that nobody else will take." Jiang Tian began removing his outer robe. "And I have literally nothing to lose."
He stripped down to his undergarments, clutching the Basic Qi Condensation Method manual like a talisman.
"Okay. Here's the plan. Get in the water. Try to absorb the energy using the breathing technique. If it feels like I'm dying, get out immediately. It's simple, right?."
He dipped one foot into the pool.
The tingling sensation shot up his leg like lightning. Jiang Tian gasped but didn't pull back. Instead, he lowered his other foot in, then slowly submerged himself up to his waist.
The energy in the water pressed against his skin from all sides—aggressive, chaotic, wild. It felt nothing like the "gentle spiritual qi" described in the manual. This was violent, like a pack of starving wolves circling prey.
"Breathe," Jiang Tian reminded himself. "Follow the technique. Breathe in through the nose, hold, breathe out through the mouth..."
He began the Basic Qi Condensation breathing pattern, sitting cross-legged right there in the water.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the energy in the water surged into his body like a flood breaking through a dam.
Pain exploded through every nerve. The chaotic mix of blood qi, weapon intent, and spiritual residue rampaged through his narrow meridians, tearing at them like rusty blades. His dantian—that tiny, pathetic pea-sized space—felt like it was being crushed and stretched simultaneously.
Jiang Tian's teeth chattered so hard he bit his tongue. Blood filled his mouth. His vision went white with agony.
Every instinct screamed at him to get out of the pool immediately.
But he didn't.
"No... not yet... just a little longer..." he gasped through clenched teeth.
His father's voice echoed in his memory: "Pain is just information, Tian'er. It tells you where your limits are. But limits can be pushed."
The violent energy continued to rampage through his body, but something was starting to change. The narrow meridians, instead of shattering under the pressure, were being forcibly widened. The pea-sized dantian was cracking—not breaking, but expanding, like a seed splitting open to grow.
It was the cultivation equivalent of using a sledgehammer for acupuncture. Brutal, savage, completely wrong by every orthodox standard.
But slowly, impossibly, it was working.
The chaotic energies began to settle into a pattern—not the smooth, gentle circulation described in the Basic Qi Condensation Method, but a rough, violent spiral that carved new pathways through his body.
Hours passed. Jiang Tian's consciousness wavered between lucidity and delirium. Blood leaked from his nose and ears. His skin turned from red to purple.
Just before dawn, when he thought he might actually die, something clicked.
The violent energies suddenly found balance. They condensed in his dantian, forming a small, angry vortex of crimson-tinted qi. It was rough, impure, savage—nothing like the pure spiritual qi that proper cultivators possessed.
But it was his.
Jiang Tian's eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with crimson light.
"I... I actually did it," he whispered hoarsely.
He climbed out of the pool on trembling legs and collapsed onto the stone rim, gasping for breath. His entire body ached like he'd been beaten with clubs. When he checked his reflection in the water, he looked half-dead—pale, gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes.
But when he focused inward on his dantian, he could feel it: qi. Real, actual qi.
"First layer of Qi Condensation," he muttered, then started laughing—a hoarse, slightly unhinged sound. "I reached the first layer in one night! Zhou Wei took two years, and I did it in one night!"
Then he noticed his meridians. They were wider than before—forcibly expanded by the violent energy—but scarred and rough, like roads carved through mountains by explosions rather than careful construction. His dantian had tripled in size but looked cracked and uneven, like a broken eggshell held together by force of will.
"This is definitely not orthodox cultivation," Jiang Tian observed. "But who cares? It works!"
"Who's there?"
A voice cut through the pre-dawn darkness. Jiang Tian spun around to see a figure approaching—an inner sect disciple in elegant white robes, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
Su Mei. Ranked fifteenth among inner sect disciples, known throughout the sect for her strict adherence to rules and her meticulous nature.
Jiang Tian's mind raced. If she reported that he'd been cultivating using the Sword Washing Pool, he'd definitely be punished or worst get expelled.
So he did what came naturally—he went on the offensive.
"Senior Sister Su!"
He bowed respectfully, despite being soaking wet and half-naked.
"I was just performing my duties! I noticed the water seemed especially concentrated with impurities tonight, so I was personally testing it to ensure it wouldn't harm the sect's drainage system when we drain it tomorrow!"
Su Mei's eyebrow raised skeptically. "Testing it... by swimming in it at dawn?"
"The most reliable testing method!" Jiang Tian declared without missing a beat. "How can one truly understand water quality without experiencing it firsthand? I take my duties very seriously, Senior Sister!"
There was a long, painful silence. Su Mei's expression suggested she was trying to decide whether he was an idiot, a lunatic, or both.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You're that new miscellaneous disciple. The one with four-vein mortal root who claimed he'd become the number one disciple."
"That's right!" Jiang Tian said proudly.
Su Mei stepped closer, her spiritual sense sweeping over him. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
"You've... reached the first layer of Qi Condensation? After one day?"
Jiang Tian's cheerful expression faltered. Right.
She could sense cultivation levels.
He'd forgotten about that.
"I work hard?" he offered weakly.
Su Mei studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Your qi is extremely chaotic and impure. You've clearly been cultivating using unorthodox methods—specifically, you've been absorbing the residual energies from this pool. That's dangerous, foolish, and technically against sect regulations regarding proper use of sect facilities."
Jiang Tian's heart sank.
"However," Su Mei continued, and something that might have been the ghost of a smile flickered across her stern face, "the Violet Cloud Sect's founding principle states that results matter more than methods. You haven't stolen resources. You haven't harmed anyone. You've simply been... creative with waste materials."
She turned to leave, then paused. "The Outer Sect Competition is in three months. All miscellaneous disciples and outer sect disciples can participate. First place receives promotion to inner sect status and a Foundation Establishment Pill. If you truly want to prove that four-vein mortal root isn't a death sentence, that's where you'll do it."
"Three months?" Jiang Tian's eyes lit up. "That's plenty of time!"
Su Mei actually did smile then—a small, enigmatic expression. "You're either the most optimistic fool I've ever met, or you're genuinely insane. I haven't decided which yet." She glanced back at the pool. "One more thing. If you continue this cultivation method, you'll need to be careful. The energies in that water are violent and unstable. They could strengthen you, or they could tear you apart. Don't die stupidly."
Then she was gone, disappearing into the pre-dawn mist like a ghost.
Jiang Tian stood there, dripping wet and covered in bruises, a massive grin spreading across his face.
"Three months," he whispered to himself. "The Outer Sect Competition. A chance to become an inner sect disciple."
He looked back at the Sword Washing Pool, its crimson waters glimmering in the growing dawn light.
"You and me," he told the pool seriously. "We're going to do something nobody's ever done before. We're going to turn trash into treasure. We're going to show everyone that the worst talent in sect history can still become the strongest."
If the ancient cultivation masters could see him now—battered, bleeding, grinning like a madman at a pool of bloody water—they would probably condemn his methods as heretical and dangerous.
But Jiang Tian didn't care about orthodox or unorthodox.
He only cared about one thing: getting stronger.
And he would do it his way, no matter how insane that way might be.