Chapter 37: A Person as Elegant as an Orchid

A flying sword flew out of Tianqing Hall and headed toward the New Disciples Valley.

On the sword, Wei Yuan clutched a large bundle, daring not to look at Zhang Sheng. Zhang Sheng’s face was expressionless; he merely urged the sword forward, traveling more than twice as fast as when they had gone to Tianqing Hall.

In an instant, the sword reached above the small courtyard. Zhang Sheng did not land—he grabbed Wei Yuan by the collar and hurled him straight down from several zhang in the air, then turned and left, vanishing into the horizon as a streak of rainbow light, without a single moment’s pause.

Wei Yuan tumbled headfirst, gritting his teeth to endure, bracing for a hard fall. But just before he hit the ground, a gentle force surged through him, as if unseen hands had caught him—though he still landed with a thud on his back, the impact caused only pain, no injury to bone or tendon.

Wei Yuan groaned as he rose, but his resilient nature kept him from crying out; though startled, he made no sound, preserving his dignity before the other disciples.

Back in his room, Wei Yuan placed the bundle on the table. He first took out three jade vials—exquisitely crafted, engraved with the characters “Xuan Ming,” each adorned with a vivid painting of an immortal mountain, so lifelike it seemed to breathe. The vials alone were priceless; the elixirs within must be worth a fortune. These three vials contained the Chonglou Dinghai Pills, specifically meant to fortify Wei Yuan’s foundation.

True Person Fenhai was a man who could not keep secrets—he revealed in just a few words that each pill was worth over ten thousand taels of immortal silver. Just these three Dinghai Pills, at the monthly stipend of a new disciple, would require Wei Yuan to live without food or drink for over two hundred years to afford.

In addition, the pack held a heavy pouch of immortal silver—five hundred taels—given to Wei Yuan as pocket money by True Person Fenhai.

Lastly, in his arms was a jade token—the mark of True Person Fenhai’s authority, granting Wei Yuan free access to Tianqing Hall. That meant Wei Yuan could visit Fenhai anytime, so long as the True Person was not in seclusion. Yet “free access” was meaningless: Tianqing Hall hung suspended in the sky, and until Wei Yuan forged his Dao foundation, he could not fly—he could only go with Zhang Sheng. Needless to say, Zhang Sheng’s face turned even darker when this was mentioned.

Only now did Wei Yuan begin to fully comprehend—he marveled that his ancestral master was truly generous; even a casual gift amounted to hundreds of years of his monthly stipend.

But fortune and misfortune always came together: though he had won his ancestral master’s favor, his master was clearly furious. After this, he had no idea when the anger would fade.

Wei Yuan sighed, puzzled why Zhang Sheng was so enraged—could appearance truly matter so much?

Wei Yuan found a mirror and studied his reflection, utterly unable to see what was so beautiful.

Yet given Zhang Sheng’s magnanimity, he surely wouldn’t truly be angry over such a trivial matter—once his temper passed, it would be over. Wei Yuan thought to himself.

Wei Yuan took one Chonglou Dinghai Pill, entered the quiet chamber, calmed his mind and spirit, swallowed the pill, and began to cultivate—soon he forgot self and world. One pill was to be taken at a time, with seven days between doses; no other special precautions were needed.

This time, the scenery within his mind-sea had changed: a vivid red line now adorned the jade toad’s back, and fine raindrops continuously fell from the void. As the rain descended, the ground slowly expanded.

Wei Yuan remained transformed into the jade toad, knowing the raindrops were the pill’s medicinal force—not spiritual energy from heaven and earth, nor cosmic fortune—thus they did not originate from the moon, but appeared directly as rain. He continued focusing on absorbing lunar radiance.

The Chonglou Dinghai Pill was indeed miraculous: by dawn, when he ended his practice, the visualization had expanded over three chi overnight—now nearly two zhang wide. The boulder and jade toad had grown proportionally, and even the moon in the sky had nearly doubled in size.

Zhang Sheng had thoroughly explained the cultivation process of the Jade Toad Gazing at the Moon Diagram: the first step was manifesting the visualization. In this stage, its scope gradually expanded; the final size of the diagram reflected the depth of one’s foundation—the larger, the more solid; the more intricate and extraordinary its features, the higher its quality.

The visualization served as a framework for forging the body. After fully manifesting it in the mind-sea, the actual body-forging began: the earth corresponded to sinews and flesh, the boulder to blood, the jade toad’s body to bones, and finally the moon to the primordial spirit. When each stage of body-forging was complete, the corresponding part of the visualization would burst with vitality and innate spirit. Once all stages were finished, the visualization would gain its own soul—only then could one condense the Dao foundation.

The six universal cultivation techniques had existed for centuries; Taichu Palace had amassed countless cultivation records. The fastest recorded time to manifest the Jade Toad Diagram was three days, with a Grade Earth Dao foundation forged in half a year. The most solid foundation, achieving the highest result, took thirty-six days to manifest a twelve-zhang diagram, requiring five years to forge an Immortal foundation.

After this cultivation session, Wei Yuan realized the terrifying power of the Chonglou Dinghai Pill—it had expanded the visualization by over three chi with just one pill. Three pills would surely extend it by at least one zhang. Originally, his root-bone measured eight chi—merely excellent, corresponding to an eight-zhang diagram. After taking three Chonglou Dinghai Pills, his foundation had been forcibly elevated to nine chi. From here on, it would depend on how much cosmic fortune he could convert into foundation.

The next day’s lesson was Dao Foundation Theory.

Wei Yuan had already read the course descriptions and knew “Dao Foundation Theory” was simply cultivation instruction. This course guided disciples in forging and perfecting their Dao foundations, eliminating flaws and leaving no regrets, so they might progress further on the path of immortality.

When he arrived at Qisi Hall, Wei Yuan saw a jade sheet and an elixir already placed on his desk, and a green cushion had replaced his seat. The jade sheet recorded a technique called the “Guiyuan Dingqi Method.” Wei Yuan picked it up and read it carefully—the method was simple: precisely measuring one’s root-bone. If the Dao Measurement result was an ink-wash landscape, the Dingqi Method’s result was a meticulous bird-and-flower painting, depicting the foundation with exquisite detail.

The jade sheet also listed the name of today’s instructor. Upon seeing the name, a murmur spread through the students.

“Wow, it’s Xu Henshui!”

“Which Xu Henshui?”

A girl said: “You don’t know? He’s the distant disciple of Wuzhi Zhenjun from Zaohua Guan—his master is nominally a True Person, but he was actually trained by the Zhenjun himself! And they say his bearing is extraordinary, his cultivation profound, and most remarkable of all—his Dao foundation is a orchid!”

At this, many lost interest: “An orchid? Isn’t that the lowest-grade Dao foundation? None of us here will end up with a Human-grade foundation, right?”

The girl scoffed: “Uneducated fool! Let me tell you—Master Xu’s orchid is one-of-a-kind in heaven and earth—it’s an Immortal foundation without question!”

Another girl leaned in and asked: “Then, what does Master Xu look like?”

“Do you even need to ask? Just wait and see for yourself!”

The children chattered noisily when the side door of Qisi Hall suddenly creaked open. All students fell silent, staring at the entrance. Even Wei Yuan, whose nature was indifferent, felt a flicker of curiosity—what manner of immortal was Xu Henshui?

The door opened, and first a blue-water hem swept in, then a graceful young master stepped forward—yet he concealed his face with a fan!

Even without seeing his face, his posture revealed exquisite beauty. His water-blue robes swayed without wind, and as he stepped through the door, each motion harmonized with the Dao’s natural rhythm—light, effortless, perfect, as if an invisible fragrance brushed against the soul, filling one with boundless serenity.

Just that single step stirred curiosity even in Wei Yuan—he wanted to see the master’s true face. As all waited in anticipation, a slender jade claw suddenly reached through the doorway, five fingers like orchid petals, snatching the master by the nape of the neck and dragging him out.

“Move aside—I’ll teach this class!” came a commanding voice from outside.

“But…”

“No buts! It’s decided!” The voice outside brooked no argument.

“What are you doing—don’t…” The master cried out, then his voice faded rapidly, soon inaudible.

A woman entered Qisi Hall, slammed the door shut behind her, and smiled at the stunned students.

That smile made Wei Yuan feel the entire world brighten.

(End of Chapter)