Chapter Fifteen: Becoming a Spiritualist

“What?!” Lu Zhe asked in astonishment.

“You got scalded by hot water?” Old Liu snapped irritably, then waved his hand, signaling Lu Zhe to sit down.

Lu Zhe returned to his chair. Old Liu straightened his posture, folding his hands beneath his chin in a thoughtful manner, quietly scrutinizing Lu Zhe.

“I told you that you’d become a Spirit Adept at noon,” Old Liu repeated his earlier statement.

“I know, but it’s just so sudden for me,” Lu Zhe said, rubbing his chest.

“You’re not meeting your future mother-in-law, so what’s so sudden?” Old Liu retorted.

“I’m not even nervous about meeting her,” Lu Zhe replied with a mischievous grin.

“Boast all you want, but with your poverty, who’d marry their daughter to you?” Old Liu shook his head.

“Don’t say that, Uncle Liu. I may be poor, but I have ambition. Don’t look down on a young man just because he’s penniless,” Lu Zhe waved his hand, cutting Old Liu off, laughing.

Old Liu snorted, “Go ahead and boast. Once you venture out, you’ll learn of the world’s hardships.”

“Hm?” Lost in his own words, Lu Zhe hadn’t heard Old Liu clearly.

“Nothing,” Old Liu shook his head, slowly leaning back in his rocking chair and closing his eyes to rest.

“By the way,” Old Liu suddenly opened his eyes.

“What is it?” Lu Zhe snapped out of his reverie.

“Nothing. It’s already the hour of Si, which means in another half hour, you’ll be a Spirit Adept. Prepare yourself,” Old Liu said calmly.

“What?!” The topic returned; Lu Zhe was startled.

“Hmph, why aren’t you boasting now?” Old Liu mocked.

“What happens when I become a Spirit Adept? Will it hurt terribly? What if I fail? Will I die?” Lu Zhe muttered anxiously.

He bombarded Old Liu with questions, clearly agitated, like a nervous suitor before his future mother-in-law—no, like an ant on a hot pan, restless and uneasy.

Old Liu, in contrast, lay comfortably in his chair, eyes closed, utterly at ease. One wondered if he spent nights as a thief, so fond was he of resting his eyes.

Meanwhile, Lu Zhe paced frantically, at a loss.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Once you’re a Spirit Adept, you’ll feel brimming with strength, and you can focus your mind to see inside your own body. Honestly,” Old Liu said, impatient with Lu Zhe’s endless questions.

Hearing this, Lu Zhe finally calmed, ceasing his frantic pacing.

Time slipped by, and soon, less than a tenth of the half hour remained.

“It’s almost time,” Lu Zhe said tensely, watching the sundial outside the window.

“Nervous?” Old Liu opened his eyes and smiled at Lu Zhe.

“Yes,” Lu Zhe nodded.

He was indeed nervous—he’d never experienced such things before. Old Liu’s sudden announcement had caught him off guard, leaving him wholly unprepared.

In fact, Lu Zhe was luckier than most. Many became Spirit Adepts unknowingly, but life’s hardships forced them to neglect cultivation, cutting short the promise of many potential talents—a real pity.

Lu Zhe’s country was called the Oga Empire, a mid-sized nation in the southwest of the Divine Xia continent, with a population of about eight million, governed directly by the royal family. Even so, this not insignificant nation boasted fewer than thirty Spirit Kings, fewer than ten Spirit Emperors, and as for Spirit Lords, they were rarer still. In all the southwest of Divine Xia, Spirit Lords were as rare as phoenix feathers, proof of how perilous cultivation truly was.

“Dong, dong, dong!” The clock struck three times, and the watchman outside shouted, “It’s noon!”

“It’s here,” Lu Zhe said nervously, sweat breaking out.

Old Liu remained unmoved, eyes closed, unconcerned with Lu Zhe’s anxiety.

Time ticked away. Old Liu began to snore, eyes shut, while Lu Zhe showed no signs of change.

“Dong, dong, dong!” The clock struck again. The watchman shouted, “It’s the hour of Wei!”

“It’s already Wei,” Lu Zhe murmured to himself, hearing the call.

Lu Zhe felt his body, jumped a few times, and examined himself all over, puzzled. “No change at all.”

“Snore, snore…” Old Liu snored leisurely.

“Uncle Liu, Uncle Liu!” Lu Zhe called.

“Snore, snore, snore,” Old Liu didn’t answer, continuing to snore, even rolling over.

“Uncle Liu, Uncle Liu!” Lu Zhe kept calling. Seeing no response, he was about to raise his voice when a thought struck him; he covered his mouth and whispered, “There’s a beauty.”

“Where?!” Old Liu shot upright from his chair, glancing around.

Lu Zhe looked at him helplessly.

Remembering himself, Old Liu straightened, coughed a few times behind his hand, and asked, “What is it?”

Lu Zhe raised his eyebrows, pulled over a chair and sat, “It’s already Wei.”

“What, Wei?” Old Liu started, looked at the sky, and nodded. “Then let’s eat. Uncle Liu will treat you today.”

“Uncle Liu!” Lu Zhe interrupted.

“What now?” Old Liu replied helplessly.

“You ask what? You said I’d become a Spirit Adept at noon,” Lu Zhe said, irritated.

“Oh,” Old Liu slapped his forehead. “Look at me. Sorry—so, how do you feel?”

“No different,” Lu Zhe replied.

“Then it failed,” Old Liu said carelessly.

“What?!” Lu Zhe exclaimed.

“Just kidding,” Old Liu said blandly, watching Lu Zhe jump up.

“Uncle Liu!” Lu Zhe shouted, nearly raising the roof.

“Oh, come on,” Old Liu covered his ears until Lu Zhe finished, then let his hands down. “Is your house on fire? Why shout? Just a joke.”

He waved Lu Zhe back to his seat.

Lu Zhe sat. Old Liu scrutinized him, then said, “Not bad. You’ve already become a Spirit Adept.”

“Hm?” Lu Zhe was startled. He hadn’t felt any surge of strength, nor any change. How had he become a Spirit Adept without realizing it?

Sensing Lu Zhe’s confusion, Old Liu added, “Focus your mind now. You’ll see the inner structure of your body.”

Lu Zhe nodded, half believing, and began to concentrate.

Seeing Lu Zhe’s furrowed brow, Old Liu’s lips curved slightly.

Lu Zhe closed his eyes and concentrated. His mind was dark, empty—but he persisted, focusing all his energy. Yet still, nothing appeared.

Just as he was about to give up, a voice whispered in his ear: “Relax your mind. Let your thoughts wander freely, don’t restrain them.”

Heeding the advice, Lu Zhe gradually released his focus, letting his thoughts flow. As his mind relaxed, images began to emerge.

He saw the interior of his body—meridians, organs, bones, viscera—all laid bare. His consciousness, like an observer, watched the organs and meridians operate.

“Now guide your consciousness to your dantian,” Old Liu’s voice instructed.

Lu Zhe steered his awareness to his dantian, and there, he found a transparent orb, the size of a ping-pong ball, gently spinning—a beautiful sight.

“That’s the Spirit Core, where the body stores spiritual energy,” Old Liu explained as Lu Zhe admired its beauty.

Lu Zhe withdrew his awareness, opened his eyes, and saw Old Liu smiling at him.

Was it an illusion or something else? Suddenly, Lu Zhe felt that his familiar Uncle Liu had become inscrutable, giving off a depth he’d never noticed before. For the first time, he sensed that the man before him was not so simple.

“What is it?” Old Liu asked, curious at Lu Zhe’s gaze.

“Nothing…” Lu Zhe replied nervously.

“Must be my imagination,” Lu Zhe thought. How strong could Uncle Liu really be? He couldn’t even defeat a third-tier Spirit Master—he was just a lecherous middle-aged man. With this thought, Lu Zhe relaxed.

Old Liu didn’t care what Lu Zhe thought. Afterwards, he taught Lu Zhe the hand seals for cultivation.

When he finished, Lu Zhe felt a twinge of curiosity—how did a dock supervisor know so much?

But the thought quickly passed. No matter how much he wondered, Old Liu would never reveal the truth. It was better not to dwell on it.

“Have you memorized them?” Old Liu asked after teaching Lu Zhe the seals.

“Yes,” Lu Zhe nodded.

“Form the seal,” Old Liu commanded.

Lu Zhe began to form the seal: he crossed his hands over his chest, left hand in sword-finger, right hand’s middle and ring fingers bent toward the palm, thumb pressing atop them, pinky and index fingers extended, then he breathed slowly.

Old Liu watched him form the seal with satisfaction, then closed his eyes again.

He sensed the spiritual energy around them gathering toward Lu Zhe, swirling around him, then being inhaled through his nose, circulating smoothly.

“Good,” Old Liu thought, pleased as Lu Zhe absorbed the world’s spiritual energy, then sat back in his chair to rest.

Lu Zhe exhaled a breath of stale air, opened his eyes, and felt his body brimming with strength.

He leapt up from the chair, jumped a few times, and felt invigorated, full of energy.

As he delighted in his transformation, he noticed that the sun had already set.

“Dong, dong, dong!” The distant clock rang. Outside, the watchman called, “It’s the hour of Xu!”

Hearing this, Lu Zhe exclaimed, “I’ve been cultivating from Wei to Xu—my God!”

He glanced at Old Liu, who was still sleeping peacefully.

“There’s a beauty,” Lu Zhe called irritably.

“Where?!” Old Liu sprang upright from his chair, faster than expected.

Lu Zhe was genuinely exasperated.

“What time is it?” Old Liu sat upright, serious.

Lu Zhe rolled his eyes. “It’s already Xu.”

“Then let’s go home and eat,” Old Liu said, getting up to leave.

“You’re messing with me, Uncle Liu,” Lu Zhe said, annoyed.

“How so?” Old Liu asked, puzzled.

“Uncle Liu, now that I’m cultivating spiritual energy, it feels like it takes forever,” Lu Zhe voiced his doubt.

Old Liu nodded. “What did you expect? Everything has its price. No matter what you do, it takes time.”

“But if that’s the case, I can’t work, I won’t earn wages, and cultivation won’t fill my belly,” Lu Zhe said, discouraged.

Old Liu nodded again, understanding Lu Zhe’s point. Once one started cultivating, most of their time was spent on it, and the greatest challenge was not being able to feed oneself. Most cultivators were supported by wealthy patrons or born into noble families. But Lu Zhe had nothing, and with his temperament, he’d never accept charity.

“I’m not going to cultivate spiritual energy anymore,” Lu Zhe said weakly.

Old Liu was shocked, then suddenly looked up at Lu Zhe. “What did you say?”