The group fell into a brief silence. A few exchanged uncertain gnces, some scratched their heads, while others stared at their feet, hoping not to be called upon.

  Then, a girl stepped forward, raising her hand with confidence. She had sharp, attentive eyes, straight brows, pristine white teeth, and an air of composed heroism.

  Xiao Fang offered her a small nod of approval. “Speak.”

  The girl answered clearly. “The Immortal Realms begin with Qi Condensation, followed by Foundation Building, then the Golden Core realm, and the Nascent Soul realm. Each of these realms is divided into lower, middle, and upper stages.”

  “Correct,” Xiao Fang said, a faint smile touching her lips. “Those are the first four major stages on the path of cultivation. They are foundational, yet each one is a mountain in itself.”

  She paused briefly, her tone turning more serious.

  “Most cultivators will never break past the Qi Condensation realm in their lifetime without true potential. Talent alone is not enough—without an awakened root and sufficient affinity, your path ends before it begins.”

  The words settled over the youths like a cold wind.

  “Advancement demands not just skill, but will, luck, and the strength to defy the heavens. If any of you believe this path will be easy… you are welcome to leave now.”

  No one moved. No one dared.

  Xiao Fang’s smile returned, sharper this time. “Good.”

  Xiao Fang stood before them, letting the group settle into quiet anticipation as the jade slips rested in their hands.

  “Now,” she began, her voice calm yet firm, “you’ll begin using the Four Elements Origin Technique. I will expin how to activate the jade slip and begin the initial stages of essence circution.”

  She lifted one of the slips herself and held it out, its surface catching the light with a faint gleam of etched runes.

  “These jade slips are inscribed with a mental imprint—a spiritual guide, if you will. When you hold it and direct your focus inward, you’ll be able to ‘read’ it through your mind’s eye. The instructions will unfold there, step by step.”

  She gnced around to make sure they were following, her expression unreadable but patient.

  “To begin, sit in a lotus position—spine straight, arms rexed. Hold the slip to your forehead. Close your eyes and breathe slowly. Push aside distracting thoughts. Focus only on your breath.”

  Zhang Tian watched as the others began to do as told, some more awkward than others. He remained still, watching her.

  “The jade slip will connect to your spirit. Once that happens, it will guide you through a visualization technique. You’ll imagine the essence of the four elements—wood, fire, water, and wind—circuting around and within you.”

  She knelt on the ground herself, demonstrating the slow rhythmic breathing.

  “The first step is breathing in the essence. Inhale as if you’re drawing in the energy of the world around you. It will not be visible at your level, but your body will feel it—warmth, coolness, movement, stillness. These are the impressions of the elements responding to your root.”

  Her voice grew softer.

  “Focus that feeling into your dantian, the core of your cultivation, located just below your navel. It will feel like warmth or pressure there. This is your first attempt at essence circution—do not rush it.”

  Zhang Tian looked down at his own jade slip, now cradled in his fingers. The others had already closed their eyes, expressions flickering with strain or wonder.

  Visualize the elements, breathe them in, guide them to the dantian...It sounds simple enough, but everything in this world has a hidden depth.Still… I suppose I need to try. Not for power… but for survival.

  He shifted, sitting cross-legged as instructed. Holding the jade slip to his forehead, he let out a slow breath, closing his eyes.

  Almost instantly, a whisper brushed against his consciousness.

  The jade slip opened like a flower within his mind—glowing patterns and ethereal diagrams etched into an invisible space. His breathing deepened, unsteady at first, but then steadied as he followed the method.

  He imagined the rustling of leaves—wood. The flicker of a distant fme—fire. The trickling of a cool stream—water. The soft current of air—wind.

  Slowly, those sensations converged, spiraling toward a single point beneath his navel.

  There, a faint warmth sparked.

  This… must be the dantian, he realized.So strange. So foreign. And yet… something stirs.

  Xiao Fang opened her eyes, sweeping a look across the group. Some were struggling. Others seemed almost entranced.

  Her gaze lingered on Zhang Tian, sensing something subtle, something restrained.

  She said nothing—for now.

  As Zhang Tian inhaled slowly, following the breath method described in the jade slip, a subtle shift began within him. At first, it was just warmth in his lower abdomen—but then, he felt something stir, as though an unseen presence was waking from slumber.

  From the tips of his fingers and toes, a faint energy began to rise, drawn inward. The sensation was like mist—thin, elusive, and cool. It didn’t surge like a tide but drifted gently, coiling through his meridians like early morning fog rolling through forest valleys.

  The wood element moved first, like the mist of spring—soft, green-hued in feeling, nurturing. It crept through his limbs with a steady rhythm, bringing a quiet sense of life and slow-growing strength. He imagined roots sprouting from his feet and spreading upward.

  Then came fire, sharper, more vivid. The mist warmed and glowed faintly red within his chest. It didn’t burn, but it simmered, like the air just before a summer storm. It stirred his blood and made his heart beat louder in his ears, energizing his focus.

  Water followed, smooth and clear. A deep blue chill drifted along his spine, soothing the heat left behind by fire. It was a cleansing mist, quiet and still, like moonlight reflecting off a still ke. It brought crity, cooling his restless thoughts.

  Lastly, the wind element whispered through his body like high mountain air—light, thin, fleeting. It gave the mist motion, lifting it in subtle spirals through his meridians. The wind didn’t roar, but glided, giving the sensation of weightlessness and quiet motion.

  Together, the four energies gathered below his navel, slowly curling into his dantian like a small vortex of colored mist. It wasn’t bright or dramatic, but tangible. Pale hues of green, red, blue, and silver-gray mingled and danced, circling and condensing.

  Zhang Tian focused on that spot. It felt like a hollow pouch was slowly being filled, one breath at a time, with the essence of the world itself.

  So this is the beginning of cultivation…Like mist condensing into rain—gentle, but constant.

  It wasn’t power he felt. Not yet. It was potential, gathering in the quiet heart of his body. A calm before the storm of a life he had not yet chosen.

  As the st threads of mist settled within each of the youths, Xiao Fang stood calmly, her robes fluttering lightly as if stirred by an unseen wind. Her sharp eyes scanned over the group, lingering a moment longer on a few disciples whose brows were furrowed in frustration.

  "Do not be disheartened if your essence flows sluggishly," she said with a clear, even voice, her gaze falling particurly on those with lower aptitude. "It is normal. Some of you will find it harder to circute your essence, especially at the beginning. That is the burden of your root—your affinity and potential—but not necessarily your fate."

  Several of the disciples looked up with renewed attention. Zhang Tian, who still found the process alien and strangely intrusive, kept his gaze low. A burden I never asked for…

  Xiao Fang’s expression softened just slightly as she continued, her hands csped behind her back.

  “You must also understand what it truly means to walk the path of cultivation.”

  She paced slowly before the group, her tone shifting into that of a teacher ying out the world’s truths.

  “Mortal men are bound to the river of time. Most live no longer than forty to sixty years, their bodies failing before they ever reach true understanding. But for cultivators, the heavens grant greater fortune.”

  She raised a finger.

  "A cultivator at the Qi Condensation realm may live up to 120 years if they maintain their condition and avoid serious injury."

  A second finger joined the first.

  "Those who reach Foundation Establishment extend their lives to 200 years. At Golden Core, that life may stretch from 400 to 600 years, depending on one’s path and technique."

  Then she held up four fingers, her expression tightening just slightly.

  "And for those rare few who step into the Nascent Soul realm—a thousand years of life is not a dream, but a reality."

  Gasps and widened eyes filled the group. The numbers felt surreal to many of them.

  "But," she added sharply, "such lifespans are not without condition."

  She pointed toward the distant ndscape, beyond the trees and hills.

  "Cultivators require essence to survive and grow. Without it, your dantians will dry like a well in the desert. Mortal nds—those without essence veins—are graveyards for cultivators. You will not grow. Worse—if injured or weakened, you may begin to regress, your cultivation crumbling, your lifespan shortening. In the worst of cases, you may return to being a mortal altogether."

  The weight of her words settled heavily in the silence.

  “Essence veins,” she continued, “are living rivers of spiritual energy beneath the nd. They are graded by rank—from Rank 1 suitable for Qi Condensation disciples… all the way to Rank 5 and beyond for those who have reached divine realms. Within each rank, the quality is divided into lower, middle, upper, and superior grade.”

  She gestured toward the stone floor beneath their mats.

  “This pce—your current resting ground—is a temporary Rank 1 Superior zone, powered by a Qi Gathering Array. It has been specially prepared for new disciples like yourselves.”

  Some of the students looked around in awe, as if seeing the floor anew.

  “You will remain here,” she continued, “until each of you has reached the second rank of Qi Condensation. Only then will we travel to the sect proper. This is both your opportunity and your trial. Remember, you have already passed one test… but the path ahead is longer than any road you’ve ever walked.”

  Zhang Tian clenched his fists. The numbers, the expectations, the talk of regression… it all made his heart uneasy.

  A thousand years… he thought. But what if all I ever wanted was one peaceful life?

  He didn’t know the answer, but as he felt the mist still coiling in his dantian, something inside him whispered that peace would not be so easily cimed anymore.