Chapter 7: The Pursuit of Immortality

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At dawn, as the sky was just beginning to brighten, Yin Tianfang awoke from his dreams and sat up in bed, his heart brimming with excitement. For today marked the beginning of his cultivation in the arts of the immortals. Once he mastered these techniques, he would no longer suffer the torment of illness.

Soft footsteps echoed, prompting Yin Tianfang to leap from his bed. Moments later, the figure of Daoist Wuchen appeared at the entrance of the cave residence, gazing at the exhilarated Yin Tianfang with a gentle smile.

“Follow me,” he said.

Yin Tianfang immediately trotted after him. Along the way, Daoist Wuchen remained silent. Although Yin Tianfang harbored many questions, seeing his master’s reticence, he kept them to himself. The master and disciple walked one behind the other, ascending toward the summit of the northern peak.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the mountaintop. Dewdrops glistened like jewels, sparkling with vibrant colors. White cranes soared through the clouds, their calls melodious and ethereal. As Yin Tianfang silently followed behind Daoist Wuchen, the breathtaking morning scenery of the northern peak gradually soothed his excited heart. By the time they reached the summit, he felt a serene calm within.

“Is your mind settled now?” Daoist Wuchen asked, looking at Yin Tianfang.

“Yes,” Yin Tianfang nodded.

“In cultivation, one must never be impatient or restless. Tianfang, remember this well.” Daoist Wuchen’s expression turned solemn. “All beings yearn for immortality, yet many, lacking the proper aptitude, spend their lives in mediocrity and achieve nothing. Others possess extraordinary talent but lack the proper temperament—their achievements are limited as well.”

“I understand, Master.”

“Good. You must also remember: the path of immortality is not as idyllic as common folk imagine. You need unwavering determination and must endure solitude. Cultivation is tedious and cannot be accomplished overnight. If you wish to succeed, remember: a heart clear as ice fears nothing; perseverance never falters; the immortal path is vast, and you must always retain a childlike innocence.”

“I shall engrave these words in my heart,” Yin Tianfang replied, bowing respectfully.

Daoist Wuchen smiled and nodded, opening his palm to reveal a white, exquisitely crafted pouch that appeared out of thin air.

“This is a storage pouch—it contains its own space. You may keep whatever you need inside and carry it with you.” Daoist Wuchen handed the pouch to Yin Tianfang. “Inside is the method for cultivating immortality. Study it carefully. If you have any questions, come to me.”

“Yes, Master.” Yin Tianfang took the storage pouch with delight.

“Tianfang, the pain you suffer is not illness. Rather, you possess a powerful innate spiritual force within. Because you lack the methods of cultivation, this immense spiritual force accumulates in your body. When it reaches a certain level, your meridians and flesh will crystallize. At that point, your vitality will be severed.”

“Fortunately, I discovered this early and used my own cultivation to resolve part of it. However, the spiritual force within you must be guided and refined by yourself.” Daoist Wuchen explained.

“I must depart for some time. During my absence, cultivate diligently within the sect. When I return, I will assess your progress.” With those words, Daoist Wuchen transformed into a stream of light and vanished into the sky.

Once Daoist Wuchen left, Yin Tianfang eagerly opened the storage pouch and curiously reached inside, discovering a small spatial pocket—his hand could not reach the bottom.

He turned the pouch upside down and shook it, causing a scroll to fall to the ground. Picking it up, Yin Tianfang’s eyes burned with anticipation as he slowly unfurled the scroll.

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“Three Chapters of Qi Condensation.”

Those words met Yin Tianfang’s gaze, and once again his heart surged with excitement. At last, he had obtained the method of immortal cultivation; from this moment forth, he would step onto the immortal path and embark on a new life.

On the mountaintop, Yin Tianfang sat cross-legged, placing the Three Chapters of Qi Condensation on his lap. Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, he began to study the scroll, word by word.

By noon, his stomach rumbled with hunger, and reluctantly, he closed the scroll. The Three Chapters of Qi Condensation described three levels, forming the foundation of cultivation. Within, the Qi Condensation stage is divided into ten layers. Qi condensation requires drawing spiritual energy from heaven and earth into the body, altering one’s constitution and laying the groundwork for future progress.

This is where a cultivator’s talent is truly tested. Those with exceptional aptitude absorb spiritual energy quickly, advancing swiftly. Those of average talent may never surpass the third layer, or might not even achieve the first layer, forever barred from the immortal path.

Yin Tianfang treasured the scroll, committing the first three layers of the mental technique to memory before standing and heading toward the cave residence.

Outside the cave, two young men in gray robes awaited him, having prepared a meal. Seeing Yin Tianfang return, they promptly greeted him.

“Master, the food is ready.”

“Good,” Yin Tianfang replied. At that moment, his stomach growled audibly, and he scratched his head in embarrassment.

“By the way, what are your names?” Yin Tianfang, about to eat, suddenly realized he didn’t know the names of these two.

“I’m Zhang Ping.”

“I’m Lin Fan,” they answered.

“Oh, got it.” Yin Tianfang grinned and nodded. He went inside and began to devour the meal with urgency. Halfway through, noticing the two standing nearby, he asked curiously, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Not at all,” they quickly replied, but as soon as the words left their mouths, their stomachs betrayed them with rumbling sounds.

“Haha, the body is always honest. Sit down and eat with me.” Yin Tianfang laughed heartily, recalling his own recent embarrassment.

“We wouldn’t dare,” the two said nervously. Their status was far beneath Yin Tianfang’s; how could they sit at the table with him?

But Yin Tianfang was unconcerned about such matters. He stood up and pressed them into chairs. “There’s no one else here. My master is away. No need to be so formal.”

Despite Yin Tianfang’s words, Zhang Ping and Lin Fan remained cautious. After a while, unable to resist, Zhang Ping hurried out, returning moments later with two sets of bowls and chopsticks.

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After the meal, Yin Tianfang went outside, sat on the ground, closed his eyes, and began to recall the key points recorded in the Three Chapters of Qi Condensation. After a moment, he took a deep breath, calming his mind, and began breathing as the mental technique instructed—long inhalations, short exhalations.

Zhang Ping and Lin Fan stood quietly nearby, watching. Having spent many years in the Azure Cloud Sect, they understood exactly what Yin Tianfang was doing, and could not help but feel envious.

Time passed slowly. Yin Tianfang remained seated for an entire hour, breathing and cultivating as instructed. Gradually, a faint sense of qi appeared within his body, filling him with joy. Yet, as excitement overtook him, that elusive sensation vanished.

Yin Tianfang opened his eyes in frustration and sighed inwardly. According to the mental technique, the appearance of qi within the body marked the first step—if held onto, it would be a success.

“Damn it, after all that time, I finally found the qi, and now it’s gone,” Yin Tianfang muttered, annoyed. If disciples of other sects had heard this, they would have been astonished. In their experience, sensing qi within the body required days of breathing exercises, even for those with exceptional talent. Those less gifted might need ten days or half a month, and some might never succeed. Yet Yin Tianfang had sensed qi in only an hour. If word got out, it would shock many.

“Again!” Yin Tianfang vowed inwardly. “This time, I’ll grasp it for sure.”

He calmed his mind until it was as still as an ancient well, closed his eyes, and resumed rhythmic breathing. This time, after only half an hour, that subtle qi sensation returned.

“Yin Tianfang!” Suddenly, a loud shout startled him, and the qi sensation vanished once more. Anger surged within him. He opened his eyes and shouted, “Who’s making all that noise? Can’t you see I’m cultivating?”

Three figures stood before him. At Yin Tianfang’s words, two of them turned grim, while the third offered a sly smile, as if gloating.

“Ye Tianxing.” Upon seeing the newcomer, Yin Tianfang’s brows furrowed. The other two were unfamiliar faces.

“Don’t you know to show respect to your senior brothers? Or has your master’s affection made you arrogant?” Before Yin Tianfang could respond, Ye Tianxing seized the initiative, interrogating him harshly. “You’ve just entered the sect, and already you’re shouting at your senior brothers. If this continues, what will happen?”

“Ye Tianxing, stop twisting the truth!” Yin Tianfang’s face flushed with rage at Ye Tianxing’s repeated accusations.

“Twisting the truth? Wasn’t it you who shouted just now? Our master departed on business, and your senior brothers kindly came to see you, yet you showed them such disrespect. What reasoning is that?”

“You…” Yin Tianfang trembled with anger, glaring at Ye Tianxing, wishing he could slap him then and there.

“Enough!” At that moment, Qingfeng spoke sternly, “Qingyue, Tianxing, let’s go!” He shot Ye Tianxing a cold glance, then swept his robe and strode away.

“Hmph!” Qingyue snorted and turned to leave. Seeing this, Ye Tianxing smirked triumphantly, his gaze full of provocation as he looked at Yin Tianfang…