'Better to die trying than to live in regret,'
Even as that belief echoed firmly within my mind, carrying the weight of countless years of conviction and stubborn resolve, my heart still wavered in a way it never had before, because unlike my previous life—where death had been distant and abstract—I had now personally experienced it, and the memory of that final moment had carved itself deeply into my soul after regression.
It was precisely because I had regressed that my fear of death had grown heavier rather than lighter, not due to terror of the end itself, but because dying now meant losing something infinitely more precious than before—the second chance at life that fate had cruelly yet mercifully returned to me, a chance bought with unbearable pain and regret.
I was not afraid of death in its purest sense, nor was I shaken by the concept of ceasing to exist, but the thought of losing these newly regained opportunities—of watching them slip through my fingers before I could seize even one of them—filled me with a suffocating dread that gnawed relentlessly at my resolve.
And yet, despite knowing all of this, despite understanding the fragility of my current existence more clearly than anyone else possibly could, I was still preparing to gamble everything on a method so reckless and insane that even veteran cultivators would scoff at it, all to overcome my fundamental inability to cultivate.
Slap!
The sharp sound echoed through the room as pain bloomed across my cheek, the sting grounding me forcefully in the present moment and cutting through the spiraling hesitation that threatened to paralyze me completely.
'"Stop! Stop thinking about that, Jeonsa Grace! You've already decided you're going through with it, so stop hesitating!"' I shouted internally, my thoughts fierce and sharp as I berated myself while feeling frustration and self-disgust churn violently within my chest.
I slapped myself a second time, harder than the first, using the pain as an anchor to rip away the lingering doubt and fear that clouded my thoughts and weakened my will, refusing to allow even a single trace of hesitation to remain.
As the throbbing pain slowly subsided, clarity returned to my mind like a stagnant pool suddenly washed clean by a violent storm, leaving my thoughts sharp, focused, and unrestrained by fear, doubt, or indecision.
'"Alright, with that settled, let's not waste any more time. Time is running out,"' I thought calmly, though urgency burned beneath the surface as I felt the invisible pressure of my limited future pressing down on me.
With my hesitation completely crushed and the intense craving to cultivate backing every decision I made, nothing remained that could stop me from moving forward, not even the looming shadow of death that lingered over every reckless step.
I reached out and picked up the Nine Suffering Expression cultivation manual, its worn surface cool beneath my fingers as I opened it and began flipping through its pages with practiced familiarity, each movement deliberate and efficient.
The manual was dense with information, far more comprehensive than most, detailing everything from the structure of the body's meridians to the foundational principles of cultivation itself, content that would overwhelm ordinary beginners entirely.
However, I had already studied all of this exhaustively during my years as a scholar in my previous life, when I had desperately searched for any possible way to cultivate before my untimely death.
'"I've already memorized all of this by heart, so there's no need to read it again,"' I thought while feeling neither pride nor relief, only a grim sense of inevitability.
Still, the sections concerning breathing and meditation techniques were not something I could afford to overlook, as they were critical to controlling qi and minimizing risk during cultivation, especially when attempting something so unnatural.
Thus, I continued flipping through the pages carefully, scanning line after line until I reached the chapter I had been searching for, my movements halting abruptly the moment I found it.
'"There it is! I found it! The Nine Suffering Expression Qi Flow!"' I thought sharply, a surge of anticipation coursing through me as my focus narrowed entirely onto the text before me.
Although most cultivation manuals followed the same fundamental principles of absorbing and storing the ambient qi of heaven and earth, their true differences lay in the breathing, meditation, and circulation methods they employed.
Among these, the Qi Flow was what truly defined a cultivation manual, as it dictated the exact circulation path qi would take through the body's meridians in order to absorb, refine, and store it efficiently.
Each manual possessed a unique qi flow, and even slight variations could result in massive differences in cultivation speed, efficiency, and long-term potential, making some manuals vastly superior to others.
'"With this Qi Flow, I'll have what I need for the method,"' I thought while feeling both anticipation and tension build within me.
The reason I had been searching for this specific section was simple: understanding the Qi Flow was an absolute prerequisite for the method I was about to attempt.
'"The Reverse Qi Flow Method."'
This method involved forcibly reversing the natural circulation of qi through the meridians, causing it to flow backward into the body and be absorbed and stored in reverse, directly opposing the natural order established by heaven and earth.
It was a method I had conceived after years of relentless research and experimentation, born from desperation as I searched for any possible way to cultivate despite my innate incapability.
The method relied on reversing the functions of the body's twenty primary meridians, ten of which were responsible for absorbing surrounding qi and ten for expelling excess qi and impurities.
By forcibly switching their roles, I believed qi could finally circulate through my meridians and condense into a qi core, the foundation of all cultivation.
'"This has only ever been theoretical, since I never had the opportunity to test whether it actually works,"' I thought while recalling the bitter frustration of my previous life.
Because of the attack by those masked men, I had died before I could ever confirm the validity of my life's work, causing everything I had researched and struggled for to vanish without ever seeing the light of day—if not for my regression.
Not only that, but I was painfully aware that making even a single mistake during this process carried an overwhelming risk of death.
'"If I'm not careful, I might go through Qi Deviation,"' I thought grimly, the danger heavy in my mind.
Qi deviation occurred when qi strayed from its intended path, causing violent conflict within the meridians, often resulting in ruptures and almost certain death.
Since this method already went directly against the natural flow of qi and had never been tested before, the probability of qi deviation was terrifyingly high.
'"Welp, this is my only chance and the only method I know for cultivating. Let's make this work,"' I thought resolutely, my resolve hardening as hesitation vanished entirely.
I began meticulously reversing the Nine Suffering Expression Qi Flow in my mind, imagining each twist, turn, and circulation point as though I were tracing a map across my own flesh and blood. Every meridian, every node of qi storage, every subtle energy pathway had to be mentally reversed with precision.
The speed and efficiency of this Qi Flow depended not only on my understanding but on my emotional state—too much fear or doubt, and the delicate balance would shatter, risking immediate death.
Before initiating the cultivation, I reread the sections on breathing and meditation, reviewing each nuanced step as though my life depended on it—because it did. Inhaling deeply, exhaling deliberately, drawing in the ambient qi while simultaneously expelling residual impurities, I synchronized my body with my mind.
Every motion, every breath was calculated, a fine balance between patience and urgent action.
'"Great! Now everything is prepared for the Reverse Qi Flow Method,"' I thought while feeling my body tense in anticipation, aware that every second wasted was a second closer to failure or disaster.
I positioned myself in the lotus posture, grounding my body and mind for the cultivation. Closing my eyes, I let the meditation techniques of the Nine Suffering Expression wash over me, allowing each inhalation and exhalation to settle my internal state while preparing the fragile meridians for the unnatural flow about to be forced through them.
Inhale—exhale—inhale—exhale. My consciousness expanded, stretching across my body's energy networks, tracing the twenty meridians in preparation for the reversal.
Finally, I whispered to myself with a mixture of calm and fervent determination, '"Time for the Reverse Qi Flow Method."'
The moment I initiated the reversal, I felt the unnatural shift in my body. Qi that had always entered through the absorbing meridians now began expelling outward, while the meridians previously designed to push impurities inward reluctantly drew energy in.
For a fleeting instant, my body felt as if it were being torn apart from the inside, as though my own blood and sinew were rebelling against the impossible task I forced upon them.
The qi moved, slowly at first, and then more smoothly than I could have anticipated, though the initial ease belied the torture yet to come. My senses burned with every pulse of energy as the qi made its journey through pathways never intended to carry it in reverse.
My mind remained calm, but my body screamed with the intensity of a thousand tiny fires igniting along the meridians.
"Hrgh!"
Pain lanced through my body with sudden, jarring intensity as the qi reached deeper regions of my core. It felt as though molten stakes were being driven relentlessly through each meridian, the agony magnified by the residual damage from my previous life's injuries and failed attempts.
'"Fuck! Why does it—!!"' I wanted to curse, scream, collapse under the weight of agony, but even a whisper would disrupt the balance of qi, making deviation all but inevitable.
I had to endure, and I did, focusing every ounce of mental energy on controlling the flow. Losing control meant immediate, violent destruction from rampaging qi, and I could not, would not, allow that to happen.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours—it was impossible to measure time under such strain—but I finally regained control, steadying the backward flow enough to observe and analyze.
'"Phew… Now, why does cultivation feel this painful?"' I thought, frowning at the unexpected intensity of my suffering.
Then it came to me: my body was still fragile, riddled with lingering internal injuries that I had yet to treat properly. My regression had returned life, but it had not healed the damage inflicted in my previous life. I had impatiently jumped into cultivation, disregarding the reality of my weakened state.
'"Maybe I should've allowed them to be treated first before doing this,"' I thought, my mind sharp with regret, yet fully aware that retreating now would render all my effort meaningless. The clock of opportunity was ticking. I had no time to spare.
I slowed the flow of qi deliberately, reducing the intensity to relieve some of the burning pain, though this came at the cost of slower progress. The strain on my already fragile meridians was excruciating, and each breath felt as though it carried the weight of a mountain pressing down upon me.
Yet I continued, every motion and decision deliberate, every moment focused entirely on survival and progression.
Then, without warning, a sharp, electric jolt of pain tore through my body, unlike anything I had endured so far. Qi clashed against something obstructing its natural path, a solid resistance that twisted violently through my meridians.
'"What was that?! What did my qi collide with?!"' I thought frantically, simultaneously terrified and strangely exhilarated. The craving within me—the burning, relentless need to cultivate—propelled me forward despite the agony, driving me to confront whatever barrier lay in my path.
I forced my qi forward again, feeling it strike the obstruction, shudder, and twist around the blockage. Pain flared like wildfire, yet my control did not waver, not entirely.
'"Qi Blockage,"' I realized, the knowledge washing over me as I focused. Blockages, the bane of countless martial artists, formed when impurities accumulated in the meridians, restricting or entirely halting qi flow. They could be congenital or acquired, but in either case, they were devastating obstacles.
And yet, what I saw was unimaginable. Most cultivators had a handful at most, sometimes half a body riddled with them—but I had twenty, one in every single meridian. A total and complete obstruction.
'"I suspected I had blockages in the ten absorbing meridians, but all twenty?!"' I thought, horror and disbelief coiling within me even as I struggled to maintain control over my trembling body.
The Reverse Qi Flow Method had been designed to bypass the blockages in the absorbing meridians using the expelling ones, yet now I realized its fatal flaw: how could I possibly expel the impurities when even the expelling meridians were blocked? Any mistake would result in instant death.
'"With all of them blocked, this method meant to save me will instead kill me!"' I thought sharply, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. Every muscle, every meridian, every atom in my body screamed at me to stop, yet I refused. I would not—could not—let this second chance be wasted.
The intense craving within me, fueled by both desperation and ambition, surged through my veins, reinforcing my will and compelling me forward even as pain lanced with every heartbeat.
'"No way! I'll never give up, no matter what!"' I declared internally, my thoughts radiating determination as the unique traits of the Nine Suffering Expression stirred within me. My cultivation speed increased proportionally to my emotions, yet my mind remained razor-sharp, knowing that recklessness would only bring instant death.
I recalled the methods I had studied meticulously as a scholar, weighing each possibility against the current reality, seeking the only viable path forward. One method alone offered even the slightest chance of success.
'"The Condensing Qi Flow Method,"' I thought while feeling hope flicker like a fragile flame against the storm raging inside me.
This method allowed qi to be compressed into a thin, sharp thread, facilitating smoother, faster flow through tight passages. It demanded precise control, and even the smallest error would result in disaster.
'"The problem is… I only started cultivating just now,"' I thought grimly, aware that my lifetime of study had yielded knowledge but little practical experience. My failures, though numerous, had prepared me for this moment, and now the choice was clear: attempt this small chance at success, or accept almost certain death.
'"If I'm going to die whether I do it or not… like I said, I'd rather die trying than die without trying,"' I decided firmly, committing myself wholly to the method.
I began condensing my qi into thin, needle-like threads, each pulse of energy aligned with precision and driven by my relentless will. I absorbed additional surrounding qi to strengthen the needles, aware that any mistake would make them expand violently and rupture my meridians.
The initial contact with the blockages brought pain so sharp it seemed to slice through my very soul, yet I pressed onward, reinforcing the spinning needles with more and more qi, their yang energy burning and piercing through the impurities.
'"This is my limit! I have to do it now!"' I thought, forcing the last reserves of energy into the needles as I launched them at the condensed impurities obstructing my meridians. Pain exploded across every inch of my body, and yet my mind remained fixed, pushing the needles onward, fragment by fragment, until the final barrier teetered on the edge of collapse.
'"JUST BREAK ALREADY!"' I roared within my mind, every ounce of desperation, hope, and craving fused into a single, unstoppable force, driving the needles into the blockage with a violent finality.