Chapter Two: Tempering the Mysterious Qi

With Qin Yufeng’s support, Qin Feng returned to his own quarters—a small, humble annex, just marginally better than the servants’ accommodations elsewhere in the Qin family compound. Yet in this harsh environment, the two of them had relied on each other, surviving together for eight long years.

“Hiss! That really hurts. But for the sake of continuing my cultivation, that punch was worth it!”

On the way home, every step tugged at his wounds. Qin Feng gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, but his eyes shone with barely concealed excitement.

Watching the small, busy figure before him, a wave of warmth swept through Qin Feng’s heart. This little girl had been picked up by his father and him during an outing to the mountains ten years ago. She was only six at the time. Despite his father’s efforts to find her family, all inquiries led nowhere, so she was taken in by the Qin family, adopted as a daughter, and named Yuyan. From then on, Qin Feng gained a lovely little sister.

Their family’s fate, truth be told, had been nothing short of tragic. Qin Feng’s mother died in childbirth, and the son she bore was not only frail by nature, but also afflicted by a strange, incurable illness.

His father’s love for his mother was profound. Even years after her death, he never remarried. For all these years, Qin Feng was his father’s sole worry. To cure him, his father had carried him on his back across mountains and rivers from infancy, seeking out countless people, bowing and begging, but the mysterious illness remained a riddle no one could solve.

All his father’s efforts came to nothing, but they were not without meaning. Through countless failures, hopes raised and dashed, the bond between father and son only grew deeper. For Qin Feng—who bore memories of a former life, his mind shaped by another world—this deepened his respect and love for the man who, though of a different realm, had become his great father.

Yes, in his previous life, Qin Feng was known as Lin Dahua, a newly qualified forensic doctor.

Yet, to his surprise, his very first autopsy cost him his job. The reason was bizarre—of the four colleagues who participated, three died in quick succession. Only Qin Feng survived. The cause of it all was a mysterious female corpse of unknown origin, whom he named “Yan.”

A beautiful woman, a flawless body, a dreamlike name—one he himself had given her.

Qin Feng investigated for a long time, but turned up nothing. “Yan” seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

Then, by chance, Qin Feng discovered a faint, short, vertical purple-gray line on his forehead—so pale it was nearly invisible. Not long after, he fell ill with a strange disease: his body grew stronger, but his lifespan dramatically shortened. Eventually, he fell into a deep sleep, and when he awoke, he found his soul had crossed into another world, born as a baby into the Qin family. Most bizarre of all, the mark on his forehead remained, and the fiendish disease followed him across worlds.

All of this became an unsolved mystery.

Having struggled with this illness and died once, Qin Feng knew it was incurable. He had tried to persuade his father many times to give up hope, but his stubborn father refused to abandon him, seeking doctor after doctor with unyielding determination and tears.

With such a father, what more could Qin Feng ask for?

After that, he said nothing more, instead simply clinging to his father’s broad, sturdy back, following him out into the world, witnessing the indifference of others and the fickleness of fate. Eventually, they returned to the Qin family compound in Luoyang Town, bringing with them the eternally childlike Qin Yufeng, and settled back into their little annex with a sense of loss.

Everything seemed to return to the beginning. The illness was not cured, but at least his life was spared. Through his father’s years of research and help, Qin Feng had even managed to cultivate, however slowly and painfully.

Some said this was fate—his father was too gifted, drawing away the luck of wife and child, dooming them both. But his father refused to believe in such things, always convinced he would find a cure.

So, when Qin Feng turned ten, his father left him and Yuyan behind, setting off alone to search for a cure. He never returned, nor was there any word of him.

“Yuyan, what are you busy with?” Lying on his bed for a while, Qin Feng pulled his drifting thoughts back and focused on the little girl once more.

“Almost done, brother.” A crisp voice replied.

Sweat beaded on Qin Yuyan’s brow as she carefully lifted a medicine pot far larger than her own head and poured out a steaming bowl of soup.

Before she reached him, her twin black braids swung in the air like little swings. Her lips curled into a smile as she urged, “Brother, drink it while it’s hot! This is a piece of Bar-Dragon spirit bone that Steward He secretly gave me a few days ago. I made this soup to help you recover. After all, you were injured taking that punch from Qin Ba to clear your blocked meridians. You need this now more than ever.”

“Bar-Dragon spirit bone?” Qin Feng was stunned.

The Bar-Dragon spirit bone was the seventh vertebra of an adult Earth Bar-Dragon, a monster of the dragon line, containing the richest essence in its body. Though the dragon bloodline was diluted after countless generations, such a material was extremely rare for the Qin family. Even the most powerful elder could not slay a full-grown Earth Bar-Dragon, let alone acquire its bone. Such treasures were usually traded at a great price from cultivators of the Earth Gang stage or higher.

For the Qin family’s descendants, future achievements depended on the strength of their bloodline. The purer the ancestral dragon’s blood, the higher the grade of their awakened bloodline soul. Thus, the importance of such a bone to the family’s children was immense.

This was a great favor—no wonder Qin Feng was so surprised.

The bowl was hot. After setting it down, the little girl quickly withdrew her reddened hands and blew on them, her small palms raw from the heat. The sight made Qin Feng’s heart ache.

Though she was a young lady of the Qin family, because she stayed with him—the family’s “useless” one—she had no maids to serve her. Unlike the other girls, who lived pampered lives, Qin Yuyan shouldered the responsibility of caring for her sick brother all on her own.

“Yuyan, I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer so much with me all these years.”

Qin Feng’s eyes were already moist, but he forced back his tears. He wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders, gently holding her coarse, work-worn hands, unable to speak for a long while.

“Brother, I don’t suffer. Being with you and Father is my greatest happiness,” Yuyan said, her small face full of determination—a maturity that seemed at odds with her appearance. But Qin Feng knew his little sister’s stubbornness matched his own: the more others looked down on them, the more they had to live with pride.

“Hurry and drink it, brother, or it’ll lose its effect!” she urged.

“Mhm.” At her insistence, Qin Feng nodded and picked up the bowl—then passed it to Yuyan.

“You should have some too. Even if you never grow, you’re still at an age where your body needs nourishment. Don’t neglect your health.”

“Brother, I can’t. You know I don’t have the Qin family’s bloodline. This bone soup doesn’t do much for me. But you need it more, especially with Soul Awakening Day coming soon. You’re about to turn eighteen. If you can break through before then, you might awaken a higher-grade bloodline soul when you enter the Ancestral Dragon Blood Pool. Don’t be stubborn now.”

Yuyan’s eyes grew red with anxiety. She knew his temperament—once Qin Feng decided something, no one could change his mind.

“Be good, Yuyan. Drink it,” Qin Feng said sternly.

Tears welled up in the little girl’s eyes, but seeing his unyielding gaze, she obeyed. She raised the stone bowl, tears falling silently, mixing with the Bar-Dragon bone broth as she swallowed.

Soon, half the broth was gone. Only then did Qin Feng take the bowl and finish the rest.

As the soup entered his stomach, a warm current rose through him, flooding his damaged meridians. The surging energy pricked at him like needles, and he shook violently.

Yet a hint of joy appeared on his face. “Haha, it works!”

Qin Feng didn’t just mean the Bar-Dragon bone soup, but also the punch he’d taken from Qin Ba.

Born with blocked meridians, Qin Feng was originally unable to cultivate. But after years of his father’s research, they found that if the stagnant blood was cleared from his meridians regularly—either by forceful infusion from a powerful cultivator or by suffering serious injuries—he could slowly cultivate.

When his father was around, he could help. Since his father left, Qin Feng had to manage on his own.

Years of seeking doctors and endless pleas had only brought them cold shoulders and disdain. This shaped Qin Feng’s character into something stubborn and unyielding. From the day he returned to the Qin compound, he swore never to beg anyone again—he would rely on himself, survive, and grow strong.

All these years, it was only through methods like today’s that he’d managed to crawl his way to the third level of the Mortal Gang Realm. But as his cultivation grew, so did the blockage. That’s why he needed that punch from Qin Ba.

It was perhaps a bit too harsh, but the pain of the body was nothing compared to the torment of the mind—something Qin Feng understood all too well from his previous life. So, gritting his teeth, he began to cultivate his Profound Qi despite the agony in his meridians.

Thanks to Qin Ba’s punch, three or four of his meridian blockages were cleared—this was the best time to cultivate. If he missed it, the blockages would soon return.

On this mysterious land of Qingxuan, all cultivators practiced a force called Profound Qi. Once drawn into the body, it could be accumulated to nourish the spirit or refined into Gang Force.

But this time, something was different. Soon, his body stopped trembling and entered a strange state.

Beside him, Yuyan sat quietly, guarding him with utmost care, barely daring to breathe for fear of disturbing him.

This cultivation lasted a long, long time. Not until dawn the next day did the meditating Qin Feng suddenly shine with a blue-green light, which quickly receded into his flesh and blood. A faint azure glow shimmered across his skin as he opened his eyes.

“Whew! I’ve finally reached the fourth stage of the Azure Dragon Gang Technique.”

The Azure Dragon Gang Technique was a basic cultivation method passed down in the Qin family for generations.

Across the vast Eastern Domain of Qingxuan, countless cultivation systems existed. Whether righteous, evil, celestial, or demonic, all generally fell into two broad categories: body refinement and spell cultivation.

Within these, many branches existed. The Qin family, blessed with a unique bloodline, practiced Blood Cultivation—refining Gang Force through blood energy. Others used the power of nature to cultivate as Heaven Cultivators, or tamed the force of nature into their bodies and souls. Spell Cultivators refined the Dao through external objects, while Beast Cultivators either followed body or spell paths. Demon, ghost, corpse, and monster cultivators, though varied, also fell into body or spell traditions, often noted for their strange, vicious, and rapid progress. There were also more specialized paths such as rune, pill, artifact, puppet, and formation cultivation.

Despite the complexity, all could be categorized as body or spell cultivation. In the end, the methods might differ, but all cultivated Profound Qi, which could then be refined into Gang Force.

Profound Qi alone nourished the body; Gang Force was what could kill.

Thus, among all cultivators, five realms—Mortal Gang, Human Gang, Earth Gang, Heaven Gang, and Divine Gang—were widely recognized, each divided into ten stages.

The Azure Dragon Gang Technique was the foundational method for the Mortal Gang Realm—simple, straightforward, easy to cultivate, with no attached mystical abilities. Yet it was this very simplicity that made it extraordinary. Every Qin descendant began with this technique, building a deep and steady foundation.

Because it was so basic, progress was slow, but the Profound Qi accumulated was enduring and robust. Moreover, there were few bottlenecks, and with enough time, even the less talented could master it.

By the family’s strict rule, every young Qin was required to practice this art until they reached the Human Gang Realm, after which they could choose a new path.

This rule was not to be questioned or defied, for it was established by the family’s Divine Gang ancestor himself—the very one who created this technique.