Chapter Nineteen: Breaking to Rebuild, Awakening to Rebirth

Zangdao Peak, Scripture Repository.

Xuanming, standing by the window, looked on with a gratified expression as Chang'anzi practiced his swordsmanship in the pool below. He had known this boy was capable. There are those who appear unremarkable on the surface, whose true brilliance is hidden deep within like gold and jade; they may seem frivolous or cynical, but they possess an inner strength that is truly formidable. Chang'anzi was one of them. Given his obsession with his senior brother Xuanye, he could likely endure double the intensity of his current training.

However, he knew that overexertion leads to breakage; even if the mind were willing, the body could not always keep up. One must not rush success, nor act recklessly. He carefully calibrated the training intensity to the very edge of the boy's limits, increasing it gradually. Progressing from weak to strong was the superior path. To this day, relying solely on his physical body, the boy’s strength was approaching that of a third-tier practitioner, effectively transitioning from a mage to a warrior. Yet, to dominate the field and stand out at the upcoming Dao Origin Assembly next year, this was still far from enough. It was still a distance away from Xuanming's goals. Fortunately, there were six months left—time enough to mold Chang'anzi into a versatile Daoist, proficient in both magic and physical cultivation.

A gust of mountain wind roared, and a bolt of white silk lashed out from the air. In the pool, Chang'anzi reacted instantly, swinging his heavy sword with a surge of potent sword intent and tyrannical force. The two collided with a thunderous crash, sending waves a fathom high and water spraying everywhere. The heavy sword was like a mountain, while the white silk flowed like water; one relied on brute force to shatter all techniques, while the other used the gentleness of four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds. Hard against soft, they were evenly matched. In just a few heartbeats, they had exchanged several rounds.

The white silk recoiled, landing in the hands of a young girl. Changning, dressed in Daoist robes with a delicate and pretty face, glared at Chang'anzi, who had parried her sneak attack. She blinked, snorted coldly, and with a light touch of her toes, leaped into the air to strike again. She was determined to beat this annoying fellow into the ground. After all, he had once stolen her chickens! And he was always more favored by their senior uncle!

Up in the Scripture Repository, Xuanming stroked his beard. The duel between Chang'anzi and Changning was quite commendable. He had long grown accustomed to Changning’s presence on Zangdao Peak. The girl possessed a superior Dao foundation built upon Yin-Yang techniques, but her desires were intense, making her "Desire Barrier" difficult to overcome. Her master, Junior Sister Xuansu, had initial methods, but eventually had to seek Xuanming’s help. As one of the only two disciples in the Qiuzhen Temple with a superior Dao foundation, Xuanming could not watch her efforts come to nothing. Since then, the girl had been running back and forth between Sunu Peak and Zangdao Peak. After spending so much time with her, Xuanming learned that Changning possessed the bloodline of a fox demon, which explained her love for chicken and why her desires were so much stronger, making her "Hundred-Day Barrier" particularly difficult to cross.

Of course, the Great Dao took precedence, and human hearts are inherently selfish. Xuanming would not let this disrupt his own cultivation. Following tradition, he would guide the girl every three days, teaching her half of the "Heart-Clearing Formula" and ordering her to frequent the cold pool to suppress her desires. Thus, Chang'anzi and Changning often crossed paths. One felt guilty, the other was petty, and with Xuanming requiring them to spar, it eventually led to these fierce battles in the cold pool. Such exchanges were a common sight to Xuanming.

Relaxing his mind, he sat down again and picked up a scripture. He began to read, soon immersing himself in the text. Daoist rhymes suffused his body, Daoist energy swirled in his heart, and profound principles intertwined in his mind. He had already read over eight hundred scrolls of Daoist scripture. He had gained a deeper understanding and perception of all things in heaven and earth, as well as the natural landscapes. Gazing up at the vastness of the universe and observing the totality of all beings, he did not dwell in the shallows like a frog at the bottom of a well. Instead, through these scriptures, he saw the cosmos in a grain of sand—observing the great from the small, and the profound from the subtle. He remained within the mountains, yet he understood the many truths of the world.

Step by step, he advanced steadily on the path of seeking the Dao. For Xuanming, reading scriptures was not just about meditation and practice; it had become an inseparable part of his life. Even his unconscious breathing had gradually aligned with the Daoist techniques of inhalation and exhalation. He ate when hungry and slept when tired; he donned heavy robes in the cold and light garments in the heat. Xuanming followed the natural flow, merging his life and practice so tightly that it felt as if his every movement and stillness were a form of cultivation: every action was a practice, and everywhere he looked was a place of enlightenment. With his improvement in Daoist practice and mental state, his cultivation progressed with half the effort, having reached the perfection of Essence Refining, drawing ever closer to the Qi Refining stage.

Time flew like an arrow; winter departed and spring arrived. The gentle spring breeze brushed across the mountains, and the soft spring rain nourished the earth, bringing warmth and vitality. The ice and snow on Floating Cloud Mountain melted away. With the rumble of spring thunder, all things awakened. Wild grasses broke through the soil, glowing with fresh green, and trees sprouted tender buds, displaying vibrant life. Spring is the season of beginnings, and the vast world was renewed.

On Zangdao Peak, beneath the waterfall, Xuanming stood by the pool. With his crane-like hair and youthful complexion, kind face, whisk in hand, and Daoist robes, he embodied the very image of a transcendent immortal. It was rare for him to leave the Scripture Repository. His gaze fell to the depths of the pool, where a brawny figure sat cross-legged at the bottom, circulating the Qiuzhen Temple’s secret "Tortoise Breathing Technique." Xuanming had improved this secret art, making it several times more profound, capable of inducing a state of temporary suspended animation. The person in the pool was Chang'anzi.

The powerful vitality of his flesh and the decaying energy of his meridians and organs were clashing, intertwining, and warring within him, permeating the air with an aura of life and death. Xuanming had ordered him to hibernate at the bottom of the pool for a specific reason.

When the sun set and the moon rose, at the hour of the intersection of Yin and Yang, he flicked his whisk lightly. The energies of the sun and moon were drawn down like two swimming fish, circling around Xuanming. He channeled the "Yin-Yang Chart," and as the energy of Yin and Yang poured into them, they became lifelike and vivid. After guiding them for a moment, once he felt there was enough solar and lunar energy, Xuanming formed a profound hand seal.

"Taiji gives birth to the two modes, and the clear and the turbid begin to take form."

A phantom Yin-Yang diagram appeared behind him, black and white interweaving, Yin and Yang generating each other—you within me, me within you. They were independent, yet mutually dependent.

"Go!"

Xuanming flicked his whisk again. The Yin-Yang diagram behind him moved in response. Like a dragon entering the sea, it plunged into the pool. On the shore, Xuanming infused his eyes with Hunyuan energy. His gaze shimmered with Daoist intent, piercing through the heavy waves to watch the Yin-Yang diagram dive deeper and deeper until it finally enveloped Chang'anzi and poured into his body.

Beneath the water, Chang'anzi’s body trembled slightly. The life and death energies, which had been as incompatible as fire and water, began to change under the coordination of the Yin-Yang diagram. They blended amidst the collision and merged through the friction. They worn each other down, consumed each other, and transformed into one another.

Chang'anzi’s flesh was robust. His year of frantic training had not been in vain. His vitality soon overcame the death energy, even forcing its way back into his lungs and meridians like a surging tide. Chang'anzi’s body shuddered violently, enduring immense agony, his frame arching like a shrimp. Yet, despite this, he did not wake up. These were merely the instinctive reactions to his trauma.

Watching his cheap nephew-disciple endure such heart-wrenching pain, Xuanming did not worry; instead, he stroked his beard and smiled. It was not out of schadenfreude, but joy. Between life and death lies great terror, but also great opportunity. Xuanming had spent a year tempering Chang'anzi’s body for this very moment of breaking and rebuilding. The boy’s internal organs were damaged, and his cultivation had regressed; ordinary methods could not restore him. After much deliberation, Xuanming had devised this method.

By using "suspended animation," he simulated the primordial chaos of the womb. Using the solar and lunar energies and the Yin-Yang chart as a conduit, he stimulated and micro-managed the energies of life and death within Chang'anzi. Like a master of hard-body cultivation, he was repairing the damaged skin, meridians, and dantian from the outside in. With his physical vitality as the foundation and the Yin-Yang energies as the stabilizer, this joint effort might just break the old to build the new, allowing for a rebirth.

But there is no free lunch in this world. Gain comes with loss. To soar again, one must first endure the agony. This pain of reshaping one's own body was akin to being sliced by a thousand knives. If not for the cruel year of training Chang'anzi had endured, honing his iron-willed resolve, he would have collapsed long ago. That he could persist until now naturally pleased Xuanming.

Only after weathering the storm does one see the rainbow. After suffering, good fortune will surely follow.