Ning Qi's life soon settled into a steady rhythm.
After moving into his new residence, being close to the Scripture Pavilion made him feel like a fish returning to water.
Each day, he cultivated without pause. Whatever time remained was spent buried among the countless classics of the Pavilion, absorbing everything like dry soil drinking rain, slowly transforming it all into his own foundation.
Because of this, when he contemplated martial principles, inspiration seemed to come effortlessly, even more smoothly than before.
Following Dragon Mountain Daoist's instructions, the other Senior Brothers rarely disturbed him. Ning Qi did not mind this at all—he never felt lonely.
In this life, possessing full-level comprehension, the joy of cultivation was endlessly magnified. Reading, pondering, refining—each step brought genuine satisfaction.
Solitude suited him.
It was far better than his previous life.
Of course, it was not that his Master or Senior Brothers and Sisters ignored him. They simply visited less frequently, so as not to interrupt his cultivation.
Among them, Ye Qinghe still came the most often.
Whenever a Senior Brother went down the mountain, they would inevitably bring something back for Ning Qi. These gifts were all passed to him through Ye Qinghe. Over time, however, the gifts gradually became uniform.
Books.
Everyone knew that Ning Qi loved reading. It was common for him to stay in the Scripture Pavilion for days without going downstairs.
Yet there was one thing that made Ning Qi sigh quietly.
His relationship with Eighth Senior Brother Qin Yun was no longer as close as before.
Once, Qin Yun had visited Ning Qi's new residence. He stayed briefly, exchanged a few words about cultivation, then left.
After that, he never came again.
They only met during festivals, when the True Disciples gathered together. Qin Yun would still smile when they met, and when he went down the mountain, he would still bring Ning Qi books.
But there was a clear sense of distance.
Ning Qi could vaguely sense it.
Perhaps jealousy.
Whether it was because of talent, or because of Master's obvious favor, Ning Qi could not say.
He felt helpless about it.
No matter how talented he was, he could not control the hearts of others.
All he could do was remain low-key.
Thus, most of his days were spent between the Scripture Pavilion and his small courtyard.
Occasionally, he would wander alone, observing the natural world.
Unknowingly, this ninth disciple of the True Martial Sect gradually became a mysterious figure to many outer and inner sect disciples.
And in the blink of an eye—
Nearly a year had passed.
Ning Qi was now four years old.
Inside the Scripture Pavilion, a small figure dressed in a white Daoist robe stood with hands behind his back, quietly reading a martial classic while muttering softly.
"This Tiger Fiend Fist is quite interesting. If one truly grasps the essence of the tiger fiend, it can shock the opponent's spirit. It counts as a subtle combat art."
A trace of appreciation appeared in Ning Qi's eyes.
With a single thought, the principles of the Tiger Fiend Fist had already been fully comprehended. Its core essence was extracted and seamlessly integrated into the True Martial Fist he had created.
Stake cultivation methods focused on Body Tempering, but they inevitably lacked killing power.
Because of this, Ning Qi also practiced offensive techniques in his spare time—fist arts, movement techniques, blade and sword skills.
Eventually, all of them were fused together, forming the all-encompassing True Martial Fist.
Within the Body Tempering Realm, it could be called unmatched.
Although his goal was longevity, he still needed the strength to protect his Dao.
Without power, even the strongest realm meant nothing.
Over the past year, Ning Qi had grown too much.
He had read nearly ten percent of the Scripture Pavilion's collections. Every book became part of his foundation.
In terms of martial knowledge alone, even a Gang Yuan Realm expert might not compare to him.
Ning Qi placed the Tiger Fiend Fist manual back on the shelf and stretched slightly, his thoughts drifting.
"In one year, I have perfected Bone Refining. The outer four realms of Body Tempering are now complete."
"My single-arm strength has reached five thousand catties—far sturdier than my Senior Brothers' foundations. When they reached this stage, most only had around three thousand."
"But it's still not enough."
"This is not the perfect foundation I want."
He looked calm, but his thoughts were clear.
"It took one year to complete the outer realms. To refine the inner four realms, achieve inner–outer unity, and step into the Inner Yuan Realm… it may still take two more years."
"That means I would enter the Inner Yuan Realm at six years old."
"For ordinary people, this speed would already be monstrous."
"But I can go faster."
Ning Qi looked toward the outside of the Pavilion.
In truth, he could have entered the Viscera Refining Realm a month ago.
But he chose not to.
Sometimes, slowing down was for the sake of greater speed later.
"Over the past year, much of my energy was spent creating stance cultivation. Perhaps because I'm nearing the upper limit, the difficulty was far greater than expected."
"But it's almost complete."
"The essence of stance cultivation holds no secrets to me anymore."
"After comprehending over a hundred stance methods, in just a few more days, this supreme stance cultivation should be finished."
Anticipation flashed in Ning Qi's eyes.
Above peerless stance cultivation lay supreme stance cultivation.
If he succeeded, he was confident he could form Inner Strength within a year and step into the Inner Yuan Realm.
That difference would be enormous.
This was why he delayed breaking through.
If he rushed now, re-cultivating later would waste even more time. But reworking only the outer realms would be much simpler.
"Observing all phenomena of heaven and earth brings inspiration."
"The True Dragon is powerful, but it is only one phenomenon among countless others."
"If time can be saved, it should be saved."
Ning Qi turned and picked up a book beside him.
"Miscellaneous Notes of Snow Plum Manor."
He did not open it.
He already knew its contents.
The heroic tales of Ning Ye, founder of Snow Plum Manor, and Mei Jianjiang Xuemei.
And at the end—
"In the twenty-seventh year of Yongxin, Snow Plum Manor was destroyed by a mysterious force. No survivors. A great pity."
This book had been brought back two years ago by a Senior Brother during his travels.
Ning Qi slowly exhaled.
"That Lord Feng retreated because of Master. His realm should not exceed Core Formation. Most likely, Jade Liquid—the second realm of Gang Yuan."
"Gang Yuan cultivators can live four hundred years."
"I only hope you don't die by someone else's hand."
If possible, Ning Qi wanted to do it himself.
Once he reached the Gang Yuan Realm, killing that person should not be too difficult.
He placed the book down and looked outside.
Right on cue, a familiar lazy voice sounded.
"Little Nine, are you ready?"
Ye Qinghe pushed the door open, wearing an expression that said she expected this.
Seeing the endless sea of books, her scalp tingled.
"We're about to leave, and you're still reading. You really are a bookworm."
She bent down and poked Ning Qi's cheek.
Ning Qi swatted her hand away out of habit, smiling.
"Didn't you just arrive?"
"Let's go."
He took the initiative and walked out.
Ye Qinghe blinked in surprise, then grinned.
"Well, well. Rare sight. Little Nine actually wants to go out."
"Today, your Senior Sister will show you around properly."
Ning Qi shook his head with a soft chuckle.
The supreme stance cultivation he envisioned required insight from the myriad phenomena of heaven and earth.
Normally, he only observed clouds, snow, mountains, and rivers within safe areas of Zhenwu Mountain.
Recently, he felt that he needed a catalyst.
Thus, he planned to head toward the outer regions of Zhenwu Mountain.
Those areas had not been cleared. Strange beasts still roamed there.
For safety, Ning Qi brought Ye Qinghe along—an excellent ready-made bodyguard.
He valued his life.
Achieving Bone Perfection did not mean invincibility.
If he ran into a powerful beast alone, he would still die.
What he didn't expect—
Was that Ye Qinghe seemed even more excited than him