Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Progress

During her confinement, Zhao Chun brought not only her new short sword and throwing knives, but also the Mind-Clearing Powder and Qi-Boosting Powder she’d received earlier.

The Mind-Clearing Powder could be diluted in water to produce Mind-Clearing Dew—the same thing Cao Wen Guan had once used in Chu Kingdom to benefit the common people. Cultivators often used it when refining spell techniques, keeping the mind free of distraction and thoughts sharp.

Qi-Boosting Powder did exactly what its name suggested: it increased spiritual qi and aided cultivation. But its medicinal strength was heavy. If too much residue accumulated, it could harm the body. After taking one dose, a cultivator had to wait three days for the medicine to disperse before taking another.

Zhao Chun had never had a good chance to use the Mind-Clearing Powder. Now that she had spell manuals, it finally had a purpose.

As for the Qi-Boosting Powder, she had four doses left. She didn’t know whether her monthly stipend would still be issued during confinement, so she had to be careful.

Single-Line Flying Knife was simple. After running through it twice, Zhao Chun could already use it. She was nowhere near the manual’s boast—“a knife flies like a line, and once the line passes, the throat is sealed”—but it was effective enough to harass and disrupt.

One disappointment, however, followed quickly.

Zhao Chun had thought Swift-Stride Sword Method was a bargain. The reason it was shelved as low-grade turned out to be a flaw in the method itself. It had been forcibly converted from a footwork technique; the coordination between sword and steps remained stiff.

She refused to give up. Even a perfect technique changed when put into practice—each cultivator shaped it differently. Since Swift-Stride Sword Method came from footwork, Zhao Chun began there, working the steps first, then gradually trying to bring the sword into harmony.

In such intense quiet, time could feel stretched and endless. Yet once Zhao Chun submerged herself in cultivation, she felt the opposite—there was never enough of it.

Her suspicion proved correct: after she entered confinement, her resources stopped arriving altogether. Since she wasn’t going out to claim them, someone simply docked them without a word.

What surprised her was this: once she stopped taking Qi-Boosting Powder, her cultivation sped up.

Her Metal-Fire Spirit Root reacted violently to the medicine. Zhao Chun hadn’t known. Only after the last dose’s effects finally faded did she feel the change—her spirit root shook off its previous sluggishness and became lively, vigorous, as if it had been unshackled.

Two days before the end of her confinement, Zhao Chun broke into the second level of the Qi Refining Stage in one rush. She also opened three meridians at once—the three yin meridians of the hand.

Swift-Stride Sword Method improved alongside it. The sword portion still felt slightly separate, but her footwork was now smooth. Compared to before, she moved nearly thirty percent faster.

Three months.

That was all it took for her to transform so dramatically. Like a pearl rubbed clean of dust, she was beginning to show her shine.

On the day Zhao Chun returned to the Daylily Garden, the others even took leave to celebrate. It had been a little over four months since she entered the sect, and she had already caught up to Hu Wan Zhi and Cui Lan E. They were startled, then delighted, laughing as they said, “It won’t be long until you become an official disciple. When that happens, we’ll hold a feast and invite all your friends from home!”

Zhao Chun thought wryly that she only truly knew Zhou Pian Ran. Xie Bao Guang had grown distant, and those other three had long since tried to cut all ties. But she only smiled and said, “Then I’ll be troubling you, Senior Sisters.”

On her way back, a tall, thin figure stopped her.

Zhao Chun looked up. “Peng Zheng?”

The two men who always followed him were nowhere in sight. He stood alone, shoulders drawn tight.

“Why are you by yourself?” Zhao Chun asked. “Where are they?”

Peng Zheng’s expression crumpled. “They… they went to follow some Senior Brother…”

Once, Peng Zheng had been pleased with himself, convinced his talent was decent, and he’d grown lax. Three months passed, and even some four-root disciples had managed to break into the first level of the Qi Refining Stage. Peng Zheng still hadn’t drawn qi into his body.

The Liu and Zhang brothers decided they’d backed the wrong horse. Past friendship meant nothing. They left him without hesitation.

The experience seemed to have hardened Peng Zheng. A month ago, he finally succeeded in breaking into the first level of the Qi Refining Stage.

Zhao Chun had no interest in his petty dramas. “You stopped me for a reason,” she said. “What do you want?”

Peng Zheng’s voice shook. “I… I came to apologize. For how I treated you before. I hope you can forgive me.”

“How did you treat me?” Zhao Chun’s tone stayed flat. “If you offended anyone, it was Xie Bao Guang. You’re apologizing to me instead of him?”

“How is that the same?” Peng Zheng blurted.

In his eyes, Zhao Chun was a rising star of the Thirty-Ninth Court. Xie Bao Guang still hadn’t drawn qi. To apologize to the latter would mean bending his pride, and he couldn’t stomach it.

“It isn’t the same,” Zhao Chun agreed coolly. “He’s hot-tempered. You know how to bend when you need to.”

Peng Zheng’s face reddened. He didn’t have the skin to stay. He threw out, “So you won’t accept it. Fine. But insulting people for nothing—what kind of person does that?”

Then he stormed off, flinging his sleeve.

Zhao Chun stood there, speechless. When she told Zhou Pian Ran later, the two of them could only look at each other in quiet disbelief.

Two more peaceful months passed.

At last, Zhao Chun found the key to merging sword and steps. Swift-Stride Sword Method had been stiff because the sword techniques leaned fierce and rigid, while the footwork was light and flowing. The two pulled in opposite directions.

It was sheer luck that the manual ended up in her hands. Zhao Chun’s natural style was agile. Without meaning to, she softened the sword’s fierceness, allowing sword and steps to gradually complement each other.

Still, she couldn’t ignore her weakness in raw strength. The Myriad Vault Tower held many techniques that could amplify power, and she wanted them badly—but she couldn’t afford them.

She was truly too poor.

Three months of docked resources meant 60 Cui Stones gone—enough to buy half a low-grade manual.

Zhao Chun didn’t have time to take assignments and earn Cui Stones like Zhou Pian Ran did. And the Tiger Strength Art she wanted required pairing with the Serpent-Form Step, a total of 800 Cui Stones. At 20 Cui Stones a month, she didn’t even know how long she’d have to save.

Even if she stopped using Qi-Boosting Powder and sold it instead, she’d only save an extra ten per month. At best, it would still take more than two years—and that didn’t account for other expenses.

Zhao Chun ran the numbers and felt her head throb.

Only now did she truly understand: money could choke even a hero.

And just as she was about to ask the Senior Sisters where she might find a way to earn more, someone else came to her first…