Qingxu's tone shifted again, and he shook his head. "Remember this — we want you to understand the sect's supreme techniques, not to make you arrogant or reckless. The Lingxi Art has the slowest beginning. It requires steady grinding — the long, patient path.
"Only such hardship tempers the heart, prevents scheming thoughts, and wards off inner demons. If you can devote a century to this, one day you will be counted among the sect's true elites!"
Those words helped. Li Xun hadn't really absorbed much of what was said, but the time it took to say them allowed him to settle his emotions. As he bowed low in response, he took a deep breath and said, each word clear and firm:
"The disciple… will not disappoint the expectations of the honored masters!"
But as he reached the final word, the emotions he'd fought to contain surged beyond control. His voice caught — just for a moment — in a choked sob. Though he quickly realized and forced himself back to calm, the tears had already risen.
Fortunately, Qingxu assumed he was merely overcome by the long years of suffering and sudden relief — or perhaps by emotion at being recognized — and thought little of it. He could not have guessed that Li Xun's tears came from having narrowly escaped death.
Qingyin's lips curved into that same, ambiguous smile once more. She said nothing more — only turned and vanished into the forest's shadows.
Li Xun hurried to call out, "If I ever have the time, I'll return to the peak to repay the grace of your instruction!"
Whether Qingyin heard him or not, he couldn't say. Only the faint jingle of hair ornaments echoed in the wind, drifting through the night. Even though Li Xun was still overwhelmed by the thought of the Lingxi Technique, that distant sound made something stir in his heart — a faint sense of loss.
Qingxu watched all of this silently but said nothing, only uttering lightly, "Let us descend the mountain."
Li Xun had just answered when he quickly corrected himself, "Please wait a moment, Master — this disciple has something by the lake shore…"
Qingxu raised an eyebrow slightly. "What?"
Li Xun's thoughts spun rapidly, but he answered truthfully, "It's a slate I use to record my thoughts. I just wanted to keep it as a memento."
Qingxu let out a soft sound, seemingly a bit curious. Light flashed in his eyes, and with just a glance through the thin mist, he said, "There it is."
Before Li Xun could react, Qingxu's wide sleeve swished, and suddenly Li Xun felt the ground under his feet give way. He nearly stumbled. When he looked up again, he cried out softly in surprise — the scenery around him had completely changed. Wasn't this the very spot where he had first entered the water?
Just a few steps ahead, his bundle lay quietly on the ground.
Though not one to be theatrical, Li Xun couldn't help showing his awe. Crossing hundreds of zhang while carrying another person, arriving in an instant with just a thought — this showed Qingxu's cultivation had reached an extraordinary realm. He was surely at the True Person level.
He quickly picked up the bundle and offered his thanks again. Qingxu only smiled, then swept his sleeve once more. A different technique this time — clouds gathered around their feet, swirling like a tide. Li Xun felt his body grow light as he was lifted upward by the surging mist, gently floating into the air.
Qingxu stood beside him, calm and unhurried. Seeing Li Xun's wide-eyed amazement, he couldn't help but smile. Though he knew some of the boy's expression was exaggerated, he still chuckled, "This is Cloud Riding, slower than flying on a sword perhaps, but far more stable, and capable of bearing greater weight. When you've refined your spirit into the Infant stage, you'll be able to use it yourself."
Li Xun looked down at the drifting clouds beneath his feet and listened to the once-dreaded "villain" now speaking kindly beside him. Looking at Qingxu's benevolent smile, he felt everything unreal — as if in a dream.
Once they rose high enough, fierce astral winds rushed past. Li Xun felt his breath catch, but his internal breath automatically began to circulate, shielding him from the gales. He had unconsciously switched into internal breathing mode.
Qingxu's eyes lit up. "Qingyin said your self-taught cultivation methods are subtly aligned with true principles. I wasn't quite convinced — but judging by your reaction, I'd say your internal breath has reached its peak stage!"
Even amidst the roaring wind, Qingxu's voice was clear and calm, as if he were merely chatting on the ground. Li Xun, however, couldn't manage to speak. He only scratched his head sheepishly.
It was strange — whether Qingxu regretted what had happened seven years ago, or was simply moved by Li Xun's "Mark of Solitary Calamity," his attitude now was markedly more gentle and considerate than before.
With a wave of his hand, a protective barrier formed around them, blocking the harsh winds. Li Xun was finally able to speak. "Master, if I may be so bold — this disciple still barely understands the technique of breath circulation. What does it mean to have 'reached the peak'?"
Qingxu stroked his beard with a smile. "When a mortal's energy fills the body, it may overflow — but if it's unstable and unreal, one might extend life, but not achieve true longevity. This is the first threshold on the path of cultivation.
"If no higher-level method (technique) is taught, and one remains at this level, the body's bones will weaken, internal breath will churn endlessly, with no path forward. Yin and yang lose balance — it's like fire trapped in a bamboo cage; it will inevitably burst. This is what we call the mortal peak, the highest level our sect's basic breathing techniques can reach
"If your breath boils and has no outlet — you are blocked at this barrier."
Li Xun blinked. That mortal peak… didn't seem to be something he had encountered. Was it because his practice hadn't yet reached that point? But that didn't feel right — if he truly hadn't progressed far, Qingyin wouldn't have passed on higher-level methods to him, nor would his cultivation have advanced so quickly.
Unable to figure it out, he pushed the question back to Qingxu. The elder gave him a curious glance, then suddenly said, "Pay attention!" and pointed a finger toward Li Xun's shoulder.
Li Xun knew this was a test, but it still startled him. The finger came at him simply, unadorned, yet the pressure it carried made it nearly impossible to raise his hand.
Fortunately, seven years of hardship had forged his will like iron. He resisted the crushing force, lifted his hand, and drew a pattern mid-air — the Cloud Pattern seal he had long practiced. By now, it had become second nature, the flowing lines faint yet brimming with ephemeral mystery.
Caught off guard, Qingxu's finger was gently deflected by the soft, shifting breath of the seal. It veered by half an inch and merely tapped Li Xun's shoulder, its force dissipated.
Both master and disciple were briefly stunned.
After a long pause, Qingxu clapped his hands and laughed. "Marvelous! This technique of cloud-born transformation — where did you learn it?"
Li Xun of course didn't dare admit it came from years of practicing just to sneak through barriers. He claimed he was inspired by the designs on his "cloud robe," and later gained further insight from studying the wards left behind in abandoned cultivation dwellings. Ninety percent truth, ten percent lie — even Qingxu wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Qingxu listened and couldn't help but praise him further. Then, noticing a stack of Li Xun's "assignments" in his bundle, he drew out one of the pieces Li Xun was most proud of, and began reading it carefully.
On the slate, the carvings were unrestrained and free-flowing, unconstrained by any rigid form — yet they exuded an air of solemn precision. It was clear that the Cloud Pattern technique had been thoroughly mastered, allowing such expressive control.
"So that's how it is…so that's how it is!" Qingxu traced the etched patterns with his fingers, repeatedly marveling. "No wonder you never hit the mortal peak. It's clearly because the qi patterns in this cloud seal guide the flow of internal breath from the outside in, naturally adjusting and aligning it — perfectly in harmony with the Dao. This is already far beyond the basic breath circulation techniques!
"It was truly fitting that Qingyin passed on the Qi Transformation Chapter to you… This stroke here — like a lone cloud emerging from a mountain hollow — original and full of ingenuity. Brilliant! Though it is a bit unstable… how about this instead?"
Suddenly enthusiastic, Qingxu pulled Li Xun aside to delve into the patterns on the slate. Li Xun, of course, was overjoyed — this was exactly what he'd hoped for.
The Cloud Pattern was his proudest discovery over the past seven years. To have it recognized by someone like Qingxu was more than he could have ever wished.
Knowing how rare an opportunity this was, Li Xun seized the chance to bring up all the questions that had puzzled him over the years. He laid out his insights, and compared them to Qingxu's explanations. The feeling of understanding, of breakthrough — it was no less exhilarating than when Qingyin had once guided him. Before he knew it, he had completely lost track of time.
The Cloud Riding technique was indeed much slower than sword-flight, so by the time they descended the mountain, dawn of the second day had already arrived.
Li Xun was still immersed in the teachings and confirmations Qingxu had given him, unaware that the nightmare of his seven-year ordeal had finally come to an end at this very moment.
Only when the temple bell rang out — its lingering sound curling skyward, reaching the nine heavens — did he suddenly snap back to reality. Looking down, he saw the sect's buildings hidden amid the undulating mountains, faintly visible through the mists. Here and there, he glimpsed a figure moving along the ridges, like ants below. Now and then, sword auras streaked skyward, slicing through the air.
This sight struck him like a hammer blow to the skull. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the cloud beneath him, kneeling.