Xuan blinked, caught off guard. "Jasmine Garden?"
At first, the name didn't mean much to him, but then a flicker of recollection hit. He remembered the small wooden plaque above the entrance to his quarters. If he recalled correctly, it had the words "Jasmine Garden" carved into it.
"Yes," the woman said, studying his reaction carefully. "Do you live there?"
"Yea... but...?" Xuan asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"How do I know you live there?" The woman smiled. "It's because you asked for Verdant Essence Powder. Most core disciples don't bother with things like that. Sure, their abodes might have the space for a garden, but setting one up takes time and money, and no one wants to waste resources on a place they'll leave behind soon enough. Core disciples are always aiming to move on to better abodes."
She paused briefly, then added, "The Jasmine Garden, though, is different. It's the only core disciple abode I know of that already has a garden—a fully established one at that. The previous residents took such good care of it that it doesn't need much effort to maintain. You being a new core disciple and buying that powder… well, it just makes sense. Otherwise, you'd also need herbs or seeds."
Xuan chuckled lightly. "That's some impressive detective work." Then, noting the way her expression had turned more serious, he asked, "Why do you look so concerned then?"
The woman hesitated, her fingers briefly tracing the edge of the counter. "You might not know this," she began carefully, "but Jasmine Garden has a… history."
"A history?" Xuan's brow furrowed.
She nodded. "Both of its previous residents, despite being extraordinarily talented, disappeared without a trace. It was like they were swallowed by the earth. No warning, no goodbye—just gone. The sect elders brushed it off, calling it coincidence or saying they left of their own accord. But among the disciples, that place is seen as… an ill omen."
Her gaze met his, her tone steady but laced with a trace of concern. "So you might want to be careful."
Xuan considered her words. The garden had seemed fine and proper, and he hadn't noticed anything unusual during his time there. But.. "Thanks for the reminder," he said after a pause. It couldn't hurt to be careful.
The woman nodded. "No problem." She then placed the jar of powder on the counter. "Anyway, you can keep the powder."
"Don't I need to pay merit points?" Xuan blinked in confusion.
Merit points. That was the sect's equivalent to money. You could earn merit points through monthly allowances, completing missions, or contributing to the sect in various ways. Xuan himself had received a small amount as a new core disciple, enough to cover essentials.
"Normally, yes," the woman replied with a faint smile. Then, her tone softened as she added, "But the previous inhabitant of the Jasmine Garden was a close friend of mine, and I'd hate to see her flowers wilt. Consider this a gift—just this once though. Take good care of that garden."
For a moment, Xuan didn't know how to respond. Finally, he nodded, picking up the jar. "Thank you. I will." He said, as he turned to leave.
---
As Xuan arrived back at the Jasmine Garden, he paused to take a thorough look around, his steps slower this time. The house stood quietly against the backdrop of the mountain, its sloping tiled roof blending seamlessly with the rugged terrain. The faint glow of lanterns lit its exterior, casting long shadows.
But it was the garden that drew most of his attention.
The space surrounding the house was peaceful, even inviting. A patchwork of vibrant plants and herbs filled the tilled soil, interspersed with colorful flowers that swayed gently in the cool night breeze. Their arrangement, while not meticulous, carried a natural charm that suggested care from whoever had tended it before. A narrow stone path wound through the greenery, leading to a small sitting area with a simple wooden bench tucked beneath a tree.
As Xuan walked through, his eyes caught something odd. Scattered among the plants were smooth, weathered stones. At first glance, they seemed random, yet their placement was just a bit too deliberate. He crouched beside one, running his fingers across its cool surface. It was unmarked and unremarkable—just a simple stone.
"I must've gone crazy from the stories that store clerk told me," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Thinking this means something."
Straightening, he brushed off his hands and was about to head back inside when Lin Ran emerged from the house. Her steps were hesitant, her gaze darting between Xuan and the garden as though unsure whether to approach.
Turning to her, Xuan held up the jar of Verdant Essence Powder. "This is for the garden," he said. "Can you take care of it every now and then? There's a small booklet on the bookshelf near the entrance that explains everything."
Lin Ran blinked at him for a moment before nodding. She understood her current position in the sect was tied to Xuan, and small tasks like this would inevitably fall to her. It wasn't as if she minded. Back in her village, she had often helped her mother tend to flowers and herbs. A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Sure. I'll take care of it."
Xuan stepped back, satisfied. "Good. Let me know if you need anything—I'll see if I can get it."
He hesitated for a moment, glancing at her. Lin Ran might not have opened up to him yet, but there was something about her presence that was... grounding. She reminded him of his little sister. The thought lingered, bittersweet, tugging at memories he had tried to keep buried.
Yet, there was a pang of guilt too. She was here because of him. His actions, however unintentional, had drawn her into this situation. Her life had been upended, and while she hadn't blamed him outright, he couldn't shake the weight of responsibility. He'd brought her here, and that meant he had to ensure she was safe and cared for. It was the least he could do.
But in the end Lin Ran wasn't his real sister. His real sister, Lin Mei, was still out there, waiting for him. Missing him. He clenched his fist. He had to find her. He had to get stronger. Faster.
Turning toward the house, Xuan exhaled sharply, banishing the thoughts clouding his mind. He had taken a long enough break. It was time to continue cultivating.
---
Back in his quarters, Xuan sat cross-legged, the {Frozen Gale Codex} open before him.
His first reservoirs of wind and water qi—teardrop-sized pools refined within his dantian—were already ready. These were the initial requirement to progress in the Spiritual Vein Realm. With these reserves, he would create qi pathways—latent structures within his body that, once awakened, would replace the inefficient practice of forcing qi through his unprepared channels. Having them would allow energy to flow seamlessly, with minimal resistance, saving him a lot of time.
The process described in the codex however was quite intricate. Both wind and water qi played distinct, essential roles in the creation of these pathways. Wind qi, sharp and fast, served as the trailblazer, cutting through and awakening the dormant pathways. This step, however, carried significant risk—forcing wind qi recklessly could cause severe internal damage. The codex emphasized staying strictly within the predefined routes, as even the smallest deviation could harm vital structures.
To offset that risk, there was the water qi. With its smooth, stabilizing properties, water qi would immediately follow the wind qi, soothing the newly formed pathways and reinforcing them. Its calming influence prevented strain or damage, ensuring the pathways were not just opened but stabilized. This harmony between the destructive power of wind and the restorative nature of water was the essence of the {Frozen Gale Codex}.
Yet, theory was one thing—practice was another entirely.
As Xuan began circulating the qi through his body, the challenges became clear. His first target was the pathway connecting his dantian to the heart node. He guided the wind qi forward, wanting to use its sharp, fast energy to blaze the trail.
Then came the water qi. Xuan attempted to guide it immediately after the wind qi, following the sequence described in the codex. However, the moment he tried to shift his control to the water qi, he realized something unsettling: the wind qi was still active, moving of its own accord. Without his direct control, the wind qi meandered unpredictably, threatening to damage the pathway it was just beginning to create.
He paused, sweat beading on his brow. I can't control both at the same time.
It seemed that unless the wind qi was fully returned to the dantian first, attempting to control the water qi wasn't going to work. He clenched his fist. This didn't go as smoothly as me imagined.
Faced with this situation, Xuan began to ponder. He saw two options.
The first was to handle one element at a time. He could guide the wind qi to fully blaze the pathway, allowing the teardrop-sized energy to be absorbed into the pathway to strengthen it. Once completed, he would switch to water qi, letting its soothing energy stabilize the pathway.
But this approach had an obvious flaw: the time gap between the two steps left the pathway vulnerable. Without immediate reinforcement from water qi, the partially awakened pathway might suffer strain or even collapse under the residual energy.
The second option was to refine his control, aiming to transition more seamlessly between the two qi types. However, this was far easier said than done.
Control had to do with how proficient Xuan was at using the cultivation method. Cultivation methods had distinct stages of proficiency, reflecting how deeply a cultivator understood and could wield their principles. These stages were commonly divided into Familiarity, Initial Mastery, Advanced Mastery, and True State.
For the {Frozen Gale Codex}, these stages were defined as follows:
Separate Control (Familiarity): At this stage, the cultivator could only manipulate one type of qi at a time. The inactive qi would run out of control, possibly harming the user. This was the level Xuan currently found himself in.
Simultaneous Circulation (Initial Mastery): A more advanced stage, where both qi types could flow through the body without returning to the dantian. However, only one element could be actively controlled at a time, with the other would stay still, not harming the user.
Concurrent Manipulation (Advanced Mastery): Mastery of this stage allowed the cultivator to control both qi types simultaneously, regardless of their location in the body. Both wind and water qi could move in perfect harmony.
Fusion (True State): The pinnacle stage, where wind and water qi merged to form a unique, powerful energy, capable of far surpassing the individual elements.
Xuan gritted his teeth as he weighed his options. Rushing forward blindly could cause more harm than good, he thought. He decided to focus on improving his control first. He only needed to reach Initial Mastery to be able to unlock his pathways without any danger.
He steadied his breathing, ensuring all his qi was gathered at his dantian. Closing his eyes, he focused on the water qi—it was smoother, less volatile, and therefore safer to experiment with. Carefully, he guided it out from his dantian, keeping it outside it but nearby.
Then Xuan took a steady breath and attempted the next step: releasing his control over the water qi and shifting his focus to the wind qi.
As soon as he tried, the water qi began to behave erratically. No longer under his guidance, it surged unpredictably, spreading unevenly. The uncontrolled flow created a dull ache, like pressure building within his body. Xuan winced, his jaw tightening as he tried to bring the wind qi into focus, but the chaotic water qi disrupted his concentration.
It wasn't the wind qi that was the issue—it followed his command well enough. The problem was the water qi refusing to stay still without guidance. Each time he relinquished control, it veered off course, interfering with his attempts to direct the wind qi smoothly.
Adjusting his approach, Xuan reduced the amount of water qi he guided out of the dantian. Smaller amounts were easier to manage and didn't destabilize as much when released. He carefully monitored its behavior, giving it time to settle before attempting to manipulate the wind qi. The process was painstakingly slow, and even then, the water qi occasionally surged unpredictably, forcing him to start over.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he repeated the cycle again and again, but gradually, his efforts bore fruit. The water qi became more stable when left unguided, and the wind qi responded more fluidly. It wasn't seamless yet, not by far, but the transitions began to smooth out. His control, while far from mastery, was noticeably improving.
Just as he began to find a rhythm, a soft knock sounded at the door. Xuan's eyes snapped open, his concentration shattered. Suppressing a flicker of irritation, he rose to his feet and opened the door to find Lin Ran standing there, her expression hesitant but earnest.
"There's a disciple waiting at the entrance," she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder. "He said Master Shen is calling for you."