Chapter Ten: Watching the Conversation in the Chat Group

“Brother, I want to go to Mount Emei.” Chen Lan looked up and startled Chen Jin with her abrupt declaration.

“What for?” Chen Jin asked, puzzled.

“Tourism,” Chen Lan replied evasively.

“The college entrance exam is coming up, isn’t it?” Chen Jin said.

“There are still six months left,” Chen Lan answered.

“That’s not much time. You’d better stay home and study. Otherwise, Dad will break your legs,” Chen Jin squeezed in, refusing to negotiate, ignoring Chen Lan’s pout of frustration.

No matter how much she pleaded, he wouldn’t agree. Even if he did, their parents would never permit it. Chen Jin returned to his room and resumed copying the Tao Te Ching, his mind cycling through the Metal Qi Formula. When his spirit became so full it felt almost swollen, he finally stopped.

What he needed now was the vital energy of heaven and earth to strengthen his body. The low-grade qi orb he absorbed last night had already been consumed today, transformed into bodily essence by his focused mind. His spirit had grown disproportionately, leaving the quality of his bodily essence lagging behind. He needed to raise it.

In ancient times, when the world was saturated with qi, Chen Jin would simply practice the Metal Qi Formula, growing both spirit and bodily essence. Now, however, only his spirit grew. If he continued this way, he might stray from the proper path, and one day… Well, Chen Jin didn’t know what might happen; the Metal Qi Formula didn’t say, but it surely wouldn’t be good. As the saying goes, “Yin alone cannot produce life, Yang alone cannot sustain growth; all things in heaven and earth require balance.” Cultivation is no different.

If only he could travel to another world again, and obtain another qi orb.

Thinking this, Chen Jin asked the Black Book when the next crossing would be.

The answer: on the night of the waxing moon, seven days from now.

Chen Jin pressed for details about the world he’d travel to, but the Black Book gave no reply.

Truthfully, as a thoroughly self-aware modern man, he didn’t wish for the Black Book to possess any consciousness or intelligence. If it did, there’d be nothing he could do about it. Its aloof silence suited him fine, as long as it didn’t suddenly utter some “wisdom of mortals,” or start whining.

He lay back on his bed, picked up his phone, and opened WeChat. He hadn’t forgotten the cultivators’ chat group he’d joined tonight.

Opening “A Scene of Banana City You Can’t See,” he found little conversation. Chen Jin scrolled through, seeing only four members piping up, with “Little Dragon of the East Sea” most active.

9:17

Little Dragon of the East Sea: Newcomer! Lots of newbies lately. Send a red envelope to the group first!

9:41

Little Dragon of the East Sea: Looking for a hundred-year-old ginseng, want to stew it with an old hen. Money is no object.

Solitary Drinker: Exploring Mount Gehong, anyone want to come?

Little Dragon of the East Sea: Give me a hundred-year-old ginseng, I’m heading out now.

Solitary Drinker: Scram, no ginseng here.

Little Dragon of the East Sea: (Emoji: sad)

9:50

Clouds Over South Mountain: The ancient cultivator crossing tribulation at the old square in Xiahu County has been found. Anyone want to join in blocking his door?

Little Dragon of the East Sea: No way! He’s crossing tribulation, bro. What stage is that in ancient cultivation?

Clouds Over South Mountain: Mind Stabilization.

Little Dragon of the East Sea: We’ve got someone that strong in our group?

Clouds Over South Mountain: @Sorrowful Drunk, this one.

Little Dragon of the East Sea: Bowing to the group admin, the great master (Emoji: kneeling)

Sorrowful Drunk: I’ll go invite him in. Ancient cultivators are rare. Without crossing tribulation, it’s hard to confirm if he’s one.

Little Dragon of the East Sea: Master, got any hundred-year-old ginseng? Also, take me along, I want to meet Thunderstorm True Lord.

Sorrowful Drunk: Alright, but at his doorstep, don’t call him Thunderstorm True Lord.

Little Dragon of the East Sea: No problem. Master, got any hundred-year-old ginseng?

Sorrowful Drunk: …

…

“Ancient cultivation requires crossing tribulation? The thunder kind?” Chen Jin’s heart raced as he read the chat.

And if the third stage, Mind Stabilization, requires tribulation, what about the next three? Would they face some cosmic catastrophe?

Anxiety gnawed at him, so he silently recited the Metal Qi Formula to steady himself.

After a cycle, his fear eased. With the Black Book as his golden finger, what was there to fear? Someone had already passed the tribulation unharmed; surely he could too. Judging by their conversation, many ancient cultivators had survived thunder tribulation. With enough strength, he’d withstand it as well.

Gradually, Chen Jin drifted into deep sleep.

He dreamed nothing, nor any trace of dreams.

At six the next morning, he rose, stepped onto the balcony, and exercised for a while.

His method came from the “White Emperor’s Classic of Profound Origin,” but not the Metal Qi Formula—it was another fragment, truly incomplete, called “Thousand Transformations of the Qiongqi.” There were nine variations, but Chen Jin knew only three, which was also the method the Tiger Demon practiced.

The Tiger Demon couldn’t cultivate the Metal Qi Formula, but it could train in the Thousand Transformations. Due to its species, it progressed twice as fast, unlike Chen Jin, who had to carefully select which movements to practice.

Fortunately, he had achieved Mind Stabilization, able to dispel stray thoughts at will and focus entirely. Distraction is the greatest taboo in cultivation; thus, the value of this ancient realm was undeniable.

Every stage in cultivation was discovered by predecessors, each with its purpose, not to be discarded simply for being ancient. The same applied to all techniques.

On the balcony, Chen Jin pondered the three variations of the Thousand Transformations as he practiced.

After an hour, he’d found no results—no sweating, no fatigue, nor any odd sensation of growing more energetic. It seemed the technique was suited only for tiger-kind physique enhancement.

Around seven, Chen Jin went downstairs. He figured he’d ask the chat group members to sell him some body-strengthening techniques. After all, he had money and preferred to settle things with cash, unless they wanted a hundred-year-old ginseng. Where could he find one? Wait—his father actually owned one.

Back then, his father had explained its virtues in detail, though Chen Jin hadn’t understood and soon forgot. Now, with his mind stabilized, his memory was freakishly sharp; past recollections surfaced clearly.

Though the family owned a hundred-year-old ginseng, Chen Jin had no intention of gifting it away—it was best kept for himself, who knew when he might need it.

Returning to his room, Chen Jin showered off the grime, dressed, and prepared to leave. His family were all busy people; even the housekeeper knew the routine, so no breakfast was prepared—everyone ate outside.

As he descended, he saw his sister sitting on his electric scooter.

She was clearly here to discuss Mount Emei again.

“Told Mom and Dad?” Chen Jin asked casually.

“No,” Chen Lan shook her head.

“Oh. Off the bike,” Chen Jin nodded knowingly, pulling her off the scooter.

“Brother, are you even my real brother?” Chen Lan wailed, clinging to the rear.

“Huh? When did you find out I wasn’t your real brother?” Chen Jin turned to her in mock surprise.

“….” Chen Lan was dumbstruck.

…