In the dark, he knew. He closed his eyes. Thoughts flowed like rivers, burning like wildfires. They eroded, carried away by the currents of the world to be forgotten.

  Hao found his mind returning to a peaceful place. A welcome soundless mind, empty of the five senses. Without conscious or unconscious thought.

  It only took a single reach across his chest, tapping on the bag before letting his hand rest on his leg. The World Energy flooded out. A cloud forming. Hao found the emptiness he created in his mind brought him closer to the world. His body opened, and World Energy rushed into him.

  The sensation was similar, but different each time. New pores in his skin, and channels through his flesh. Beyond his flesh, it burrowed into his bones, into his marrow. All of it flowed to one place by the end. The empty place where his core was yet to form.

  It was beyond Hao’s understanding. He only knew that the World Energy was entering every pore it could find: skin, nose, mouth, eyes. There was no discomfort or pain until it found a place deep. Inside, he could only assume the feeling was his vital essence being dragged inward, to the center of his person.

  Uncomfortable, like thousands of ants, lethargic ants taking their time digging through him. Yet there was a comfort to it as well. Like warm water, freshly poured tea entering his stomach on an ice-touched day. He didn’t know the channels in his flesh. A few of them he knew, and by the end, one more of the channels were kind on him. The rest were a labored drag. Hao could feel the pull and the release as they touched his center of gravity.

  The only thing Hao could do was stay calm. Maintain his empty peace and breath. His body got lighter as the seconds or hours passed.

  Hao felt the need to inspect the world, its energy, and his body. But he was not done. And he could not see what he wished to with his eyes.

  More vital essence, bright yellow gold if seen by the eye, touching his hollow Dantian; The destination of the World Energy.

  Hao felt an unfamiliar swelling in that place inside his body. Not existing alongside the physical. The beginning stages of his vital core enlarging, filling up until it became noticeable. Now it was there, plain in sensation.

  Hundreds of new channels were torn into existence. They sprung from the core, climbing to his viscera. Higher and higher once again. To his heart and his head. Each one opening to the world as the last bit of World Energy was being swallowed by Hao. Less escaping once again.

  Hao opened his eyes but maintained his focus. He had only one thought before continuing his practice; Fifth Layer of Reclamations? He didn’t need to ask, he already knew. Hao felt like a more whole version of himself. The song of the world was louder to him than before. His senses becoming stronger again. Noticeable even in the cave. The smell of the dirt was overwhelming, the sound of burrowing insects echoed. The cave was brighter, with less light needed to see.

  Now noon would nearly wash away the world to a blank canvas—Hao chased away his curiosity—Focusing back on improving his strength. The technique he wanted to improve the most was the movement technique. ‘Seven Colored Steps’ was his only real technique that was not for purely cultivation. His speed was already growing explosively when he used the first layer of the technique.

  Hours passed, and he studied the same steps until his mind went weak. After rest, he was up again, before the books he had, or had already read.

  The Five Element Fist techniques together are profound. They help with understanding but won’t improve my strength, Hao thought. He had similar ideas and beliefs about the other techniques. The only way they would boost his fighting strength fast enough would be if they gave him a Sudden Enlightenment.

  They were enlightening enough as they were, but only in a sense of knowledge. The sudden enlightenment he would need was something far rarer. The idea came up in Hao’s reading a few times. A phenomenon those who experience had trouble writing about. They had a similar effect to Treasures, like the Bone-Shaking Bell.

  ‘Words from the Heavens, a kindness given from one’s Dao. The World’s secrets revealed.’ How is cryptic stuff like that supposed to help anyone, why write it down in the first place—To seem profound? Hao gained a little from the words, despite his justified annoyance.

  He knew that when he was trying the ‘Five Element Breaking Fist Techniques’ together, he was experiencing some type of enlightenment. But what Hao experienced was a slow peeling back of one facet of the world. A layer extraordinary, but mundane in comparison to what was written in the cryptic words.

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  Any practice outside of the ‘Seven Colored Steps’ would have been moot. The gratifying power of the speed and calm it provided was too much when placed against basic fist strikes, kicks, or stabs. All of that is better to learn with experience, not with written words, Hao knew.

  So, once again, his mind cleared of thought. He focused on the image carved into his mind. The image itself, a sore spot. He went deeper into the depths of the technique, sweating as he sought the truth in the second stage of the ‘Seven Colored Steps’.

  As he was, he could have sat there for weeks, attempting to understand anything. It seemed like he would make it nowhere. The day passed as he focused on the same movements. Foot placements, the flow of energy. His mind grew weak and broke from its calm state. Large raindrops from outside echoing down, sounding in the cave.

  If a break was needed, he had jam made by Meiqi and preserved meats, mother and daughter made in a neighboring house. There was plenty of beast blood and herbs to mess with. And if he was feeling bold, he could try to seek further depths in the Spirit-Hold bag. However, He never used the Drinking-Stone as a toy. Nor did he want it to leave the bag. His apprehension towards it never decreased since he stepped on the Bone-Shaking trial; Neither has his desire to keep it himself—Until its destruction.

  Yes, the latter half of the day came. Loud rain came, raging as it had days before. The sun still dominated the summer sky, but a slight shroud hid its blinding light in the afternoon. The kinder storms told of the worst ones coming. The first half of summer passed, the middle would arrive and real summer storms would come. Once the lightning was in the past, it was a telling that the second half of summer had come, all would wind down the quiet of fall until winter showed cold kinder than summer nights. But often a longer cold was worse than the hours of ice at night.

  Hao had to take a break longer than a snack and the thought of those who were kind. He wanted to complete the Second stage of the movement technique but found himself at a loss. Frustration made it hard to slip into that empty space in his mind. He felt he was on the cusp, dancing on the line of the two stages, never crossing from first to second.

  I’ll have to give up on reaching the Second Stage before turning the Inert Beast Blood. I was too eager for benefits before entering the Secret Realm. Maybe Senior Tuzai is more generous than my impression would leave me to believe. He had to give himself hope with thought.

  Hao stepped out into the rain. His new body, untested, started working in ways better than just hours ago. He could see drops of rain. Not all of them in the distance, but the ones closest to his face. Ones just out of his arm’s reach.

  They fell, traveling fast to the ground. But Hao could pick out their size and shape. Round than usually depicted, a few splitting into many if they were large enough for it. Some had a near-perfect round shape with small undulations in the harsh wind. Others are flat at the bottom or bulging up towards the sky, bent into the shape of a bean. The sound outside was one hundred horses, stomping on one hundred drums.

  Hao tried to take in a breath of World Energy, just to get a sense of it. His absorption rate had increased once again. But the world energy outside is still gooey compared to the stuff from the bag. I wonder why. It’s the same stones and herbs making the World Energy, not all of it is from the Drinking-Stone anymore. So why is there such a difference?

  Which of the two World Energies was flawed? Were either? Hao cleared his mind once again, it was almost still empty from his meditation, seeing the rain calming him further. He took advantage of the state during his walk up the mountain. He imagined the raindrops as the steps made in the Technique. Only imagining the flow of the energy, not initiating it.

  Hao made it to the food hall’s front entrance, able to maintain his focus, the world drowned out. All the sound and sight came back the moment he opened the door.

  The food hall became populated once the rain started days ago. Most of the time, people sat inside about the reason for their cultivation. More topics came up; other disciples and recent events were also common. Hao found the closer to the Mid-Summer cave’s opening, the more rowdy the sect got. Conflicts weren’t uncommon. Hao could hear a few while working in the back. But the only thing people mention when talking about the secret realm itself is why they weren’t going to enter. Excuses for themselves and their friends.

  The amount of people inside today was not massive. Thirty at once was a large number in the later half of the afternoon. Most would have found their way back to the residence or caves. The bustling of the people struck Hao the moment he stepped beyond the door’s threshold. The noise of the groups made the world feel slow and grimy. The room where they ate felt dirtier than the room where the animals on their plate were butchered.

  There were groups of people, each table seating four or five. It was easy to guess they were mission teams back from goofing around off the mountain before the time limits on their mission expired. A few teams took on normal animal hunting or commerce missions. It made sneaking down to mortal towns easy. Coins had no value in the Sect, so they had plenty to spend; Brother, alcohol, food, jewelry.

  Do they not feel a sense of urgency on this mountain? Hao thought, holding onto the same panic he felt the day he was pulled into the carriage and carried up to the mountain. The desire to get stronger was only reinforced as time passed.

  The people themselves did not bother Hao; Most didn’t notice him enter. He felt different from them, nothing new. Not just his hair or the way he walked, it wasn’t anything superficial. But like he was the only one with eyes to see. He was the only one who could see the blades growing sharper around him, moving closer to his neck. His own madness eating at him.

  Hao ignored them in return, his warnings would do little to help them; It’s not my duty to protect everyone, I’m too weak for that. He let the thought drift off on its own, like many others before it.

  People passed him as he walked to the door to the back sections of the building. Plates of food and jars of alcohol. One man in his mid-twenties carried a porcelain jar as such, labeled with the character Alcohol, a bold font like it was making a statement. He stunk of it, the perfume he was coated with did little to hide his night and day activities. It was nothing unusual, he was more groomed than most, his skin and hair silky, thoroughly washed. And his words were loud enough to quiet the room as he arrived at his table of friends. All men, just as well-groomed, each less drunk than the man just now sitting.

  “I can’t believe that happened the moment we came back. Such a scene after entering the Sect doors.” He hiccuped twice before continuing. “They were ruthless, but I guess the old man offended the wrong group of people. They probably would have done worse to the old woman if a crowd wasn’t there!”

  “You’re still talking about that? It was hours ago now…”

  “So what, it was brutal madness. We haven’t seen such a thing since the last Upper Peak Ascension. Do you think they will get punished? Probably not right, they wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t have backing. Soon we won’t be able to talk about it, everyone who saw it will be slid a spirit stone to keep quiet.” The drunk’s words were getting sloppy, but it was clear enough for his friends around to try to silence him.

  “Shh… They were pitiful, though. I don’t know how they offended a hunting team under an Elder. But they have been working at the library since I first joined the Sect.”

  “Pitiful? No, they just weren’t careful about who they offended. We should learn from their mistakes. Offend someone you can’t, and you face the consequences—” The drunkard suddenly lost his voice to speak.

  The rest of the group to find out why their talkative friend went silent. It was easy to notice why. A man, drenched in rain, his hair of two colors. His face wore death as he looked down at them.