Chapter 78: The Stone from Another Mountain Can Polish Jade

“Stop, stop, stop! Let me rest—get me something to eat!”

Feng Xue, aching all over, raised his hand to halt, and Liu Yunxi, her face lit with sincere smiles, immediately stopped, showing not the slightest reluctance—as if none of what had just happened had stirred any personal emotion.

To say she was cruel would be unfair; after over half an hour of sparring, Feng Xue had barely a few real bruises. But every strike she landed targeted soft flesh—no broken bones, yet the pain was real.

Watching Liu Yunxi turn toward the kitchen to prepare food, Feng Xue collapsed onto the ground—but didn’t rest immediately. Instead, he forced himself to pull out his phone from the Hu Tian pouch and inserted a storage card loaded with Daoist scriptures.

The volume of reference material he’d prepared was too vast to search through one by one, and his weight limit during this transmigration couldn’t support the computational demands of local AI deployment.

But that didn’t stop him—he simply opened keyword search, typed in terms like “Qi,” “Qi,” “Five Phases,” “Yin-Yang,” “Thunder Art,” and scanned for precise matches. Once he found something interesting, he read the surrounding context, then used unfamiliar terms as new search entries to pull data from the database.

Though this method would inevitably miss some details, it was the most efficient learning strategy he currently had. His eyes darted across text until he spotted something intriguing.

“The Five Zang Organs’ Five Qis are the concrete manifestations of Ying-Wei Qi within the organs… I know the Five Zang Qis: Kidney Water governs Liver Wood’s Water Zang Thunder, Heart Fire governs Lung Metal’s Jianggong Thunder, and Heart Fire with Kidney Water refines Lung Metal’s Geng-Xin Sword Qi… but what is Ying-Wei Qi?”

Seeing a familiar term he couldn’t recall, Feng Xue immediately searched for “Ying-Wei Qi.” After reviewing several documents, he pulled out another storage card on Traditional Chinese Medicine theory and studied it briefly before confirming: this concept originated from the Emperor Neijing.

“Ying-Wei circulates; the Zang organs generate Five Qis. Ying Qi resembles nutrients transported by blood—these nutrients nourish the Five Zang, producing their respective Qis, which enter the meridians and are collectively called Wei Qi. Wei Qi repels external pathogens and strengthens the body. Yuan Qi is one’s innate Qi, understood as the body’s inherent nature, slowly growing stronger through the circulation of Ying-Wei…”

“According to this theory, the ‘blood-Qi’ of martial cultivators here is actually Ying-Wei Qi: blood as Ying, Qi as Wei. Wu Xiu refines control over the Ying-Wei cycle to strengthen the body; Xuan Xiu uses Wei Qi to nourish and expand innate Yuan Qi, then feeds it to the soul. As for ‘nourishing the flesh in return,’ it likely means infusing Yin-leaning magical power into Ying Qi to bolster Wei Qi, achieving far greater bodily nourishment than food alone—even allowing supplementation of the Five Qis by consuming jade or similar substances.”

Feng Xue wasn’t skilled in TCM theory, so he couldn’t be sure if his crude interpretation was accurate—but based on the Xuan Xiu system he’d encountered so far, this line of thought seemed sound, at most flawed in minor details.

But as a man bound by Shou Ming, he didn’t care much about missing details. What he now pondered was whether he could use these theories to craft techniques based on Yin-Yang and the Five Qis.

Not because he wanted to abandon his advantage in magical power—but because he wanted to build a mold for it.

In cultivation, sensing and controlling Ying-Wei Qi is far easier than manipulating magical power or Yuan Qi, likely because Ying-Wei Qi has dedicated channels: Ying flows through blood vessels, Wei through meridians. Magical power doesn’t just ride these channels—it requires the soul as a control system, yet before Dao initiation, the soul isn’t even fully developed.

It’s like a child who hasn’t matured enough to ejaculate—but can still piss a long distance.

So, according to this theory, if one could directly use Wei Qi to cast spells, wouldn’t that grant higher control and precision?

Feng Xue didn’t even require raw power. If he could make it work, he could use Wei Qi as a casing to encase his magical power—yes, like a missile: separate the warhead from the guidance system. Magical power handles only destruction; everything else is handled by Wei Qi.

Thinking of this, he immediately pulled out his small notebook and recorded the idea. Though eager to begin research, he had only just entered the foundational stage of zhan zhuang; his internal circulation was manageable, but using it independently was still beyond his reach.

As he pondered, Feng Xue reviewed more material on Ying-Wei Qi and the Five Zang Qis, pulled out several related Daoist classics—including a text interpreting cultivation through the lens of Journey to the West, titled The Original Intent of Journey to the West—and carefully compared another world’s theories on Yin-Yang, Five Phases, and Dan Dao cultivation.

Of course, Feng Xue knew worldviews weren’t always interchangeable—but since the foundational theories were the same, testing them couldn’t hurt.

As he took continuous notes, ideas based on Ying-Wei circulation and Yuan Qi kept emerging. His old novelist’s imagination burned rapidly, leaving one spell framework after another in his notebook. When he finally looked up, Liu Yunxi’s Peiyuan meal was ready. He ate while activating the Ingestion Technique, then performed the Body Strengthening Art afterward—his fatigue and pain vanished instantly.

Without hesitation, he resumed training with Liu Yunxi—but now it wasn’t just about mastering magical tools or taking hits. He added experimental procedures. Most of his ideas, however, ended up as Mo Ying’s dinner.

…

“Pfft! Damned gray rat! Wait till I pass the Human Calamity—I’ll settle the score with you!” With rats infesting the mountain, the demonic cultivator had to dig open his own grave by hand. Though he was a master of centuries, the moment his spirit and body split, he’d already severed ties with his former self.

Now stuck at this awkward stage, he wasn’t sure he could even defeat that five-hundred-year-old giant rat.

Since he was certain this was the Human Calamity, fleeing or hiding was the stupidest option. Living in this world meant escaping karmic cycles was impossible. Better to stay in this familiar place and outwit the local Xuan Xiu than risk running into a wandering master on the road.

“I’m only half-step Master level, but with my experience and the nature of Turbid Wishes and Evil Qi, ordinary Xuan Xiu aren’t a major threat. Still, I must tread carefully—don’t push them to the point of invoking ancestral spirits, but don’t appear too weak either. If I fail to draw enough attention, someone might investigate me. I don’t know why they’re looking for me, but since that gray rat moved, it’s clearly no simple matter!”

As a demonic cultivator who reached Grand Master level, he had ample experience fighting Xuan Xiu and understood that every well-established Xuan Xiu lineage could summon a host of ancestors. Demonic cultivators had ancestors too—but the problem was…

Demonic cultivators who went to the Underworld avoided the bureaucratic territories of the Yin Court. The strong ones operated in foreign lands; those who stayed on the mainland were weaklings hiding in remote corners to build ghostly domains—even if dragged out, few could match his strength.

“Sigh… if that gray rat can’t find me, he might send others. I shouldn’t stay on this mountain. First, find a way to sneak into the city and scout the situation.”

Ancient theories really are fascinating—for example, the word “nutrition.” Ying Qi is the nourishment extracted from food, while Yang Qi is what we now call oxygen. Ying Qi travels through blood—meaning blood transports nutrients. Doesn’t that align? Then what is Wei Qi?

According to the Emperor Neijing, Wei Qi is the collective term for the Five Qis derived from Ying Qi after passing through the Five Zang (in TCM, the Five Zang don’t literally mean heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys—they symbolize five systems: circulation, immunity, digestion, respiration, and urinary/reproductive). Wei Qi flows through meridians, repelling external pathogens and strengthening the body.

If mapped to modern medicine, it’s the five systems receiving nourishment to maintain health and resist disease. Whether ancient people thought this way or we’re forcing the analogy is debatable. I’m neither a TCM absolutist nor a TCM skeptic—I just find these ancient classics interesting.

By the way, though the Emperor Neijing claims to be written by the Yellow Emperor, it clearly isn’t—it contains the Five Phases and Five Zang, and the Five Phases theory only gained prominence during the Hundred Schools of Thought period. So the Emperor Neijing must have been written after the Spring and Autumn period.

How popular was it back then?

There’s a joke: in sci-fi, unexplained tech in the 19th century was “steam,” in the 20th “nuclear energy,” in the 21st “quantum mechanics.” In that era, the Five Phases theory was exactly that—everything had to be fitted into it.

But note: don’t take the Five Phases literally.

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(End of Chapter)