Chapter 92

Etched upon the Dao?

This made Fang Shi recall the edicts within the primal force ocean of his home world.

The edict that had halted the gods from stepping onto his home world.

Like the method of forging a spiritual root, it too is a law inscribed upon the Dao.

The primal force ocean of his home world is part of the Dao in the Qi Refining worldview.

The part that governs energy and laws.

In the Qi Refining worldview, even the Fate River summoned by the Lady of Luck is part of the Dao.

The Dao is the supreme, inconceivable, unfathomable, unpredictable, immeasurable entity that governs all time and space, all existence, all power, all cause and effect, all laws, all fate, all worlds.

“Do you know what the Dao is?” Fang Shi asked.

Zhang Cheng replied: “The birth of heaven and earth, the movement of sun and moon, the nourishment of all things—these are all the Dao.”

Fang Shi sighed: “The sages speak of the method of forging a spiritual root, inscribed upon the Dao.”

“It is like adding a new law to nature, just as the sun and moon rise in the east, and flowers bloom and fall.”

“It becomes a phenomenon of life—what an extraordinary achievement.”

“Did your master ever say what realm the sages reached?”

Zhang Cheng shook his head: “I asked my master that too.”

“My master said, sages are sages—there is no realm division.”

“Realms are merely divisions created by mortals to mark cultivation progress.”

“At the level of a sage, one is one with the Dao—no realm can describe it.”

Fang Shi said nothing; no realm was itself a realm.

Probably Zhang Cheng’s master was too lowly to know the sage’s realm, and just used empty, grandiose words to deceive him.

“Enough about sages. What realm comes after forging a spiritual root?”

Zhang Cheng said: “After forging a spiritual root, one can commune with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, condensing magic power into the body—this is the first realm of Qi Refining.”

“After Qi Refining comes the second realm, Foundation Establishment. The body is like a dwelling; Foundation Establishment uses magic power to forge an excellent physical vessel in preparation for awakening spiritual sense.”

“Thus the third realm is named Spiritual Sense. Once awakened, it reveals every minute detail of all things—this is the realm my master occupies.”

“At this level, one is a formidable presence across Shenzhou, invited as an honored guest by every provincial inspector.”

Here, Zhang Cheng emphasized heavily, as if fearing Fang Shi might do something reckless.

Fang Shi smiled; he was a good man, after all—why would he do anything bad?

“Then what is the fourth realm? And how many in Shenzhou can reach it?”

Zhang Cheng said: “The fourth realm is not attainable by just anyone.”

“I don’t know why, but my master calls it Earth Immortal.”

“One who lives forever in the mortal world without dying, wandering the mountains and rivers—hard to find, hard to trace.”

“It is said that Master Wu Jiao and Zi Xu Shangren reached this realm.”

Is Jin Dan called Earth Immortal?

Fang Shi was puzzled; the first three realms matched perfectly.

But the fourth realm was different—the Sword Art clearly recorded that after Jin Dan came Nascent Soul, and after Nascent Soul came Soul Manifestation.

None of those were immortals yet—why was Jin Dan called Earth Immortal?

He thought for a moment, guessing it was because the worlds differed, and thus the names differed.

Like the ancient Chinese titles Gong, Hou, Bo, Zi, Nan—were they the same as Western ones?

Completely different things, yet past translators rendered them according to Chinese culture.

This caused most people to confuse the two.

“Can you tell me how to break the limit? I’m very interested in this method.”

“I’m wondering—if someone born with celestial bone also forges a spiritual root, would their cultivation talent improve?”

Zhang Zihui and Zhang Cheng looked at Fang Shi in astonishment, as if he were mad.

Zhang Zihui said: “Your idea is sound—those born with celestial bone can indeed forge a spiritual root.”

“But forging a spiritual root shortens your lifespan—each limit break drains thirty years.”

“Mortals live at most one hundred and fifty years; even with cultivation, they have at most four chances to break the limit.”

“A once-broken spiritual root is the worst celestial bone; twice equals inferior celestial bone; thrice equals middle-grade; four times equals superior celestial bone.”

“You were born with middle-grade celestial bone—no need to use a method that drains your lifespan to improve your talent.”

“Even if you broke the limit twice and forged a middle-grade spiritual root, the gain would be negligible.”

“The ninety years of lifespan you sacrifice for this improvement is slower than your natural cultivation.”

“Cultivation is for longevity—without becoming an Earth Immortal, you live at most two hundred years.”

“Those ninety years are not worth it.”

Zhang Zihui warned Fang Shi—history had seen others think exactly as he did.

And some had actually tried it.

That man had exceptional talent, born with superior celestial bone, hailed as an Earth Immortal seed.

But he was not satisfied—he declared he would become the greatest immortal in the world.

So he spent one hundred and twenty years of his lifespan forging a superior spiritual root.

In the end, he wasted too much time and never broke through to Earth Immortal before his death.

After all, cultivation is like rolling a snowball—it grows faster over time.

The higher the realm, the more spiritual energy one absorbs in a single day.

The amount absorbed in ten years early on equals that of one month later.

Thus, time is an extremely precious resource.

Zhang Zihui feared Fang Shi would stray down the wrong path and cause the Zhang family to lose a promising cultivator.

Fang Shi smiled: “I was just curious. Now that you’ve explained, I’ve lost the idea.”

“Still, Zhang Cheng said limit breaking breaks the human limit—how much does each break improve?”

Zhang Zihui wanted to say more, but the gap in their cultivation was too great—she feared Fang Shi would grow angry.

So she said nothing; she believed any sane person valued their lifespan and wouldn’t do anything irrational.

“Each limit break improves roughly twenty percent,” Zhang Cheng thought and said: “In truth, those with spiritual roots do have stronger physiques than those with celestial bone.”

“But having a spiritual root is merely the foundation of cultivation—cultivation also requires comprehension.”

“Without comprehension, one cannot enter the Dao.”

“Thus, many limit breakers choose not to forge spiritual roots, and instead become fierce generals on the battlefield.”

“Like Xiang Yu, the Hegemon of Western Chu—a famous thrice-broken limit breaker.”

“He was chosen by the Xiang family as a cultivator, but could never enter the Dao.”

“So he spent his life in mortal glory.”

“Due to his three limit breaks, his lifespan was short—he acted recklessly, and ultimately lost the battle.”

“His final suicide at the Wu River stemmed not only from despair, but also from his dwindling lifespan.”

“Few mortals live to their theoretical lifespan limit of one hundred and fifty—it’s merely an estimate.”

“In truth, a once-broken limit breaker with no illness or injury lives at most a hundred years.”

“Only through cultivation, drawing in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, can one reach the theoretical lifespan limit.”

Zhang Cheng spoke with a sigh—he too had taken the limit-breaking path, his lifespan naturally shorter than those born with celestial bone.

Yet who would willingly abandon cultivation?

Longevity has been humanity’s ancient dream—did not even Qin Shi Huang seek the elixir of immortality in his old age?

The strength of spiritual roots and celestial bone only affects the lower bound of achievement.

On the path of cultivation, comprehension and fortune matter too.

Since ancient times, there have been those with inferior celestial bone or spiritual roots who became Earth Immortals.

Since ancient times, there have also been those with inferior immortal bones and spiritual roots who achieved Earth Immortality.

Fang Shi pondered: earlier, Diao Kan’s joke about Zhang Cheng losing to a Zhang family retainer was just a joke.

In truth, he had already noticed that Li Xiang and Zhang Cheng had both reached the human limit.

That is, all three attributes—strength, body, agility—at 18 points.

Each limit break increases by twenty percent—equivalent to one attribute point.

Four breaks equal four points—this intrigued Fang Shi greatly.

If his strength, body, and agility could each rise by four points, his power would leap qualitatively.

As for lifespan, Fang Shi didn’t care at all.

In the apocalypse, there’s no such thing as peace—if he didn’t increase his power quickly, he’d eventually perish.

Don’t assume that because Fang Shi is trapped here now, he can simply wait out the apocalypse safely if no other dangers appear.

Before the next impact arrives, Fang Shi will inevitably return to his home world due to some accident.

This is an absolute certainty.

Long before his rebirth, people had proposed relocating to another world.

That happened during the late stage of the fourth impact.

That happened at the end of the fourth surge.

By that time, there were legendary mages among humans who naturally mastered interdimensional teleportation.

Thus, a group of human elites was assembled and relocated ahead of time to another world.

Their reasoning was simple: if Blue Star could no longer be held, why cling to this place?

The multiverse is vast—where isn’t home?

With human strength, they could secure a place among many races.

Seizing a continent or even a planet was entirely feasible.

Some even gained great fortune, obtained divine artifacts, broke through the atmosphere, and wandered beyond the cosmos.

But in the end, they all came back—no one escaped.

When the fifth impact arrived, every person returned to Blue Star due to various factors.

Whether by accidental spell failure, encountering a powerful foe, or stumbling into a teleportation array by chance.

Even if you did nothing, meteorites would fall from the sky, smashing open a teleportation channel and sucking you in.

Due to the randomness of the teleportation arrays, these escapees were scattered across the globe, isolated and without aid.

They suffered gruesome deaths at the hands of alien creatures.

Fang Shi knew so much because he met a dying escapee.

His father was a legendary powerhouse and naturally qualified for relocation to another world.

This escapee told Fang Shi many things—mostly secrets circulating among human high command.

He soon died from his fatal injuries.

Fang Shi, also fleeing, did not react with excessive emotion to these revelations.

Fang Shi could understand the thinking of human high command.

The collective interdimensional teleportation array consumed too many resources—it could not be afforded by everyone.

Resources would inevitably be funneled to specific groups.

Before his rebirth, Fang Shi was an obscure figure in Ancheng Gathering, so it was perfectly normal he received no such privilege.

Moreover, most of those chosen ultimately paid with their lives.

Some among them were true elites of humanity—the most precious treasures.

Losing them dealt another crushing blow to human civilization.

Therefore, no matter what, one’s own strength is the most critical.

Even if this strange world held no danger whatsoever.

Fang Shi must strive to elevate his cultivation base—otherwise, he might remain trapped until the third impact, only emerging by accident.

If he was teleported into the wilderness and beaten to death by a mob of alien creatures, there would be no one to appeal to.

Moreover, at that time he would face celestial upheaval—if he couldn’t withstand it, he’d die instantly.

“So, can you explain the method of breaking the limit? It’s not about forging a spiritual root.”

“It’s just an ordinary mortal technique—nothing special.”

Zhang Zihui tugged at Zhang Cheng’s sleeve and glared at him discontentedly.

Zhang Cheng sighed helplessly—he understood Zhang Zihui’s thoughts: she saw Fang Shi’s immense potential and didn’t want him to go astray.

Internal struggles within the Zhang Clan were fierce now; every potential ally counted.

But have you considered whether Fang Shi would even accept?

He’s now a formidable force—if you provoke him, your life is in danger.

Even if my Master avenges me later, I’ll already be in the Underworld reincarnating.

“Indeed, for those who cultivate the Dao, such life-shortening methods are not precious at all.”

“I’ll tell you the method of breaking the limit.”

Then Fang Shi asked many questions about the Zhang Clan and the powerful families in surrounding counties.

Zhang Zihui and Zhang Cheng both realized how utterly ignorant Fang Shi was.

He was like an uneducated commoner with no exposure.

This confirmed their belief: Fang Shi was truly a wild-born Immortal Bone awakener.

Such a scene was poignant—whether one had an Immortal Bone truly depended on fate.

In this vast world, among countless beings, a beggar on the roadside might suddenly awaken an Immortal Bone.

And ascend in one step to become a cultivator who rides clouds and flies through the sky.

Yet something seemed odd—Fang Shi appeared to understand certain things exceptionally well.

For instance, his grasp of Daoist cultivation and martial arts—he could speak intelligently even of the Dao.

Especially when Zhang Cheng described the method of breaking the limit.

Fang Shi always pinpointed the key points, forcing Zhang Cheng, who had intended to speak casually, to elaborate further.

“Thank you both for your guidance. The hour is late—I must continue my journey. Farewell.”

Zhang Zihui wanted to say more, but Zhang Cheng’s gaze stopped her.

She could only watch helplessly as Fang Shi vanished like a galloping horse.

“Hui’er, we need not force things. After we pass this trial, the road ahead will be smooth—whether Fang True Person is with us or not doesn’t matter.”

Zhang Cheng, seeing Zhang Zihui’s gloom, comforted her.

Zhang Zihui muttered, “I know all that—but I still can’t relax.”

“If it weren’t for Fang True Person this time, I’d be fine—but you’d be dead.”

Zhang Cheng smiled: “This is merely a trial on the path to becoming a cultivator. If you fail, it means you were never destined to become one.”

Zhang Zihui quickly covered Zhang Cheng’s mouth: “Don’t speak such nonsense—you will become a cultivator.”

Zhang Cheng nodded firmly: “Yes, I will become a cultivator. When that day comes, I will marry you properly and openly.”

Zhang Zihui’s cheeks flushed red as she muttered, “Don’t talk nonsense.”