Tian Hao woke the next morning, not to the blare of an alarm or the insistent prodding of a roommate, but to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the silk curtains of his opulent chambers.
He stretched languidly, his limbs heavy with the remnants of sleep, a pleasant ache lingering in his muscles from the previous day's unexpected exertions. He groaned, pushing himself up, his hand instinctively reaching for his hair—only to find it gritty with the stubborn remnants of the old cultivation hall's dust. Even the long, lavender-scented bath he'd indulged in the night before hadn't managed to completely exorcise the grime.
"Great," he muttered, watching as a small cloud of dust motes danced in the morning light, dislodged by his movement. "Just what I needed—an eternal dust bath as my prize for dedication. Maybe I should bottle this and call it 'Cultivator's Grit." He ran a hand through his hair again, sighing.
Driven by this thought, Tian Hao rose from his silken bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to him like a discarded robe.
After dressing in fresh robes—silken, of course, a deep azure embroidered with silver thread—he decided a change of pace was in order. The formal cultivation routines clearly weren't for him. His body, still protesting yesterday's unfamiliar exertions, craved a gentler approach. He needed to experiment, to explore the nuances of this PINA method, to find indulgences that resonated with his unique… skill set.
He left his chambers, not with the swaggering confidence he'd attempted before, but with a quiet determination, a sense of purpose that had nothing to do with the expectations of the sect and everything to do with his own burgeoning curiosity.
He spent some time wandering the sect grounds, his senses attuned to the rhythm of the place, searching for a suitable location for his… unorthodox training. He dodged groups of disciples practicing their forms, their movements precise and synchronized, their faces etched with the strain of disciplined effort. He avoided the main training courtyard, knowing that Elder Hua's sharp eyes would spot him in an instant, her disapproval a tangible force that could crush his fledgling enthusiasm. He even took a detour around the kitchens, despite the tempting aromas wafting from within, not wanting to interrupt Fatty Wu's culinary magic just yet.
Finally, he stumbled upon a hidden gem—a small, overgrown garden tucked away behind one of the lesser-used buildings. It was a forgotten oasis, a pocket of untamed beauty amidst the carefully manicured landscape of the sect grounds. Tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, their delicate fronds whispering secrets to the wind. A small, neglected pond, its surface covered with lily pads and blooming lotus flowers, reflected the clear blue sky above. The air was thick with the scent of earth and blooming flowers, a fragrant invitation to linger, to explore, to indulge.
"Perfect," he murmured, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Secluded, tranquil, and ripe with the potential for undisturbed indulgence. This was exactly what he needed—a sanctuary, a place where he could experiment with the boundaries of pleasure and power without the prying eyes of the sect.
He settled himself beneath the shade of a sprawling willow tree, its branches weeping gracefully towards the ground, creating a curtain of privacy. He stretched out his legs, feeling the cool earth beneath him, the soft grass a welcome contrast to the polished floors of his chambers. He reached into the small pack he'd brought with him, retrieving the flask of wine Fatty Wu had discreetly slipped him the previous evening, the gesture a silent acknowledgment of their shared appreciation for the finer things in life.
He uncorked the flask, the aroma of fermented grapes and subtle spices filling the air, a tantalizing prelude to the indulgence to come. He took a long sip, the wine warm and comforting as it slid down his throat, loosening the tension in his shoulders.
Immediately, he felt a flicker of energy deep within his core, a gentle hum that resonated with the warmth of the wine, a tangible sign that his cultivation was responding to the pleasure. "Alright," he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips. "Wine: check."
He reached into the pack again, retrieving a few of the steamed buns Fatty Wu had provided the day before. He took a bite, savoring the soft, fluffy texture and the subtle sweetness of the dough, followed by the savory filling.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations, letting the simple pleasure of the food fill him completely. As he chewed, the familiar warmth in his core intensified, a slow, steady pulse of energy that spread through his meridians like a gentle current. "Food: check," he noted mentally, making a mental checklist of his indulgences.
Next, he leaned back against the trunk of the willow tree, closing his eyes and conjuring the memory of the luxurious bath he'd taken the previous night. He focused on the details—the steam rising from the hot water, the scent of lavender and sandalwood filling the air, the feeling of the water soothing his aching muscles, the gentle weightlessness of his body suspended in the warm embrace.
As the memory grew more vivid, the warmth in his core intensified, a tangible pulse of energy swirling within him, responding to the remembered pleasure. "Sensory indulgence: check."
"Well, well, look at you," a voice echoed in his mind, a teasing lilt in its tone. "The most hardworking lazy cultivator I've ever seen."
Tian Hao nearly choked on his steamed bun, coughing as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting around, searching for the source of the voice. He felt a sudden chill despite the warm sun, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm that betrayed his surprise. It felt absurd to jump at a voice, yet, after his previous interactions, her sudden appearance was far from expected.
There, floating a few feet away, her form shimmering like heat haze, was the Celestial Guidance Overseer. She appeared as a vision of ethereal beauty, her robes flowing around her like liquid moonlight, her features softened by the gentle light filtering through the willow branches. Yet, her eyes, bright and intelligent, held a playful glint, her lips curved into a knowing smirk that seemed to mock his startled reaction.
"Big Sister System, seriously?" Tian Hao muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Can't you ever show up when I'm actually trying to look impressive? Or do you just love catching me like this?" He couldn't help the slight tremor in his voice, a mixture of annoyance and awe that he couldn't quite suppress.
BSS folded her ethereal arms, her smirk widening. "What can I say? I enjoy watching you 'work' so diligently." Her gaze flickered to the half-eaten steamed bun in his hand, then to the flask of wine beside him. "Or should I say, eat, drink, and lounge your way to greatness. Truly, it's inspiring. It's almost admirable, given how lazy you seem to be otherwise." She raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident in her tone.
Tian Hao rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but smile at her teasing. "Hey, it's working, isn't it?" he retorted, taking another sip of wine, the familiar warmth spreading through him, calming his nerves. "Following instructions has never been harder, especially when the job description is 'eat, drink, and lounge like a king.' Though, I wouldn't say lounging is 'hard work' Big Sister, though it certainly is hard to resist." He winked playfully, feeling a surge of confidence despite her teasing presence.
BSS shook her head, a cascade of ethereal light rippling through her form, her long hair swirling around her like a celestial halo. "Yet, somehow, you make it seem like the most profound act of cultivation. I wonder when the sect will officially make 'Supreme Reclining Technique' a core skill?" She drifted closer, her expression turning slightly more serious. "But truly, you are progressing well. The key, as you've discovered, lies in genuine pleasure—real, unfiltered enjoyment. That is what fuels your cultivation, what converts indulgence into spiritual energy. The more you truly savor the experience, the more energy you generate. Simple, yet surprisingly effective."
Tian Hao raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of wine, his mind turning over her words. "So, what you're saying is… I should keep doing exactly what I'm doing? Find pleasure in food, in drink, in rest?" He paused, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "But how do I find balance? You mentioned it before. It's easy to get lost in the pleasure, to forget the purpose."
BSS smiled, a gentle warmth radiating from her ethereal form. "That, little Hao, is something you must discover for yourself. There is no single answer, no set path. The journey of cultivation is a personal one, a process of self-discovery." She paused, her gaze meeting his. "Listen to your instincts, Tian Hao. Trust your intuition. It will guide you." With a final, encouraging smile, she faded away, her form dissolving into the dappled sunlight filtering through the willow branches, leaving Tian Hao alone once more in the quiet sanctuary of the overgrown garden.
Once she was gone, Tian Hao closed his eyes, focusing inward.
He could feel it—his spiritual energy, a steady pulse of warmth that had grown stronger since the previous morning. It wasn't a massive improvement, not yet, but it was tangible progress. His cultivation felt steadier, more refined, the energy within him more focused, more defined. It felt less like the flicker of a dying flame, more like the gentle, warming embers after a raucous party.
He knew, instinctively, that there were vast oceans of energy he couldn't tap into yet. Not just wine or buns. Not just food or drink, or the mere memory of pleasant sensations. He would have to refine his technique. Hone it. Understand the true potential of what it meant to truly indulge, how that could unlock power beyond what he currently understood.
Taking another long draught of wine, the liquid burning warmly as it went down, followed by a hearty bite of steamed bun, and this time, he allowed his senses to truly savor the experience. He savored the rich, complex flavors of the wine—the sweetness of the grapes, the subtle hints of spice, the warmth that spread through him, chasing away the lingering chill of the morning. He focused on the texture of the steamed bun—the soft, pillowy dough, the savory filling, the way it crumbled in his mouth, releasing its delicious aroma. He didn't rush, but lingered, absorbing each mouthful.
This was meditation, in a way. The meditation of sensual appreciation.
Suddenly, he felt it—an abrupt surge of energy deep within his core. His dantian pulsed, the warmth growing hotter, radiating outwards through his limbs, as if something inside him had clicked into place, a lock turning, opening a door to a room previously locked within him. A rush of spiritual energy coursed through his body, stronger than anything he'd felt so far, invigorating his senses, filling him with a sense of power that was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying.
He opened his eyes, the world around him appearing sharper, more vibrant. The colors of the overgrown garden seemed more intense, the sunlight warmer on his skin, the scent of the blooming lotus flowers more intoxicating.
A slow grin spread across Tian Hao's face as he realized what had just happened. He'd experienced a minor breakthrough—he'd reached the second stage of Body Refining. He chuckled, a mix of disbelief and excitement bubbling up inside him.
Who knew that good wine, delicious buns, and the memory of a luxurious bath were all it took to advance his cultivation?
---
Name:
Tian Hao
Cultivation Method:
Pleasure-Induced Nirvana Ascension (PINA) – Mid-Mortal Tier
Cultivation Level:
Body Refining Stage 2
Techniques:
None
---
"Alright," he muttered to himself, looking down at the flask in his hand, a new appreciation for its contents blooming within him. "This cultivation is leagues better than what those poor souls in the main courtyard are doing. Who needs grueling drills when you have steamed buns and wine?" He knew that this was just the beginning. He was filled with an almost giddy sense of anticipation, a thirst for experience, for sensation, for all the joys this new world had to offer.
Compared to the grueling efforts he'd seen other disciples undertake—the endless hours of meditation, the physically demanding drills, the austere self-denial—this felt almost… effortless. He felt a pang of guilt, a flicker of doubt, wondering if this was truly the path to enlightenment, to true power. But then he remembered BSS's words: "Trust your intuition. It will guide you."
He opened his eyes, looking up at the clear sky above, the branches of the willow tree swaying gently in the breeze. He took another bite of his steamed bun, savoring the taste, the texture, the sheer pleasure of the moment.
He was going to take full advantage of every opportunity to indulge, to explore the limits of his newfound cultivation method. If it also happened to make him stronger, more powerful, more attuned to the world around him… well, then all the better.