What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 58

Weeks passed, while Jiang Cheng focused on bringing his cultivation back to what it was, while trying to control the ambient Qi.

Cheng reabsorbed the Qi he had lost with a swiftness that startled him. What should have taken half a year, maybe more, was completed in less than three months.

The ambient Qi that had bled from his breakthrough attempt should have scattered, dissipated, or worse, had he been in under any normal circumstances. Instead, it returned to his body with alarming ease.

Cheng didn’t understand it. But he suspected the fact that no other living being, except for him, was in the chamber.

And one evening, nearly three full months since he sealed himself inside the stone chamber, he sat again in the lotus position. No more experiments. No more games. This time, it was serious.

Sure, he technically had close to three decades before any problems concerning his lifespan would come into play, but Cheng didn't lock himself here to play with ambient Qi. He closed himself in this chamber to emerge as a foundation establishment cultivator.

He was going to break through.

Cheng closed his eyes and descended inward.

He pressed the gathered Qi inward, folding it tight, again and again.

Droplets formed.

Seven once more.

And then, just like before, the drops bled.

He was ready this time.

Cheng focused.

He reached for the closest drop. Not physically, but with that new sense. The one that had taken a hold of the ambient Qi in the chamber.

He seized the drop.

It stopped.

No headache. At least not yet.

He focused even more and brought the drop to the "wall" of his dantian. And as he willed it, the drop melted onto that very wall.

Instantly, Cheng felt more. Not in some philosophical way.

He felt like he was more. Of himself? of Qi? he didn't know.

What he did know, however, was that this time, he was breaking through.

And so, he did just that. The first step was complete. He merged that drop with his dantian.

Then, one by one, he gathered each drop, and each one moved to the organs the book had suggested.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

And when the last drop melted into his body, he opened his eyes.

Cheng felt refreshed. These seven drops had transformed his body irreversibly. And yet, just like he expected, it wasn't what he wanted. His foundation was average at best.

And now, came the part that he feared. The part that would show if he had been a madman or a pioneer all along.

Then, he took a deep breath and tried to gather Qi. Nothing happened.

It was expected. The number of drops a cultivator could form created the foundation of a cultivator. No more.

And until those drops settled, he would be unable to gather Qi himself.

His foundation was formed. But it was still malleable. Subject to change.

And now, he held the chunk in his palms. and willed it to absorb the Qi floating around the chamber. And he willed it to push it into him.

For if he couldn't gather the Qi himself, then something else would do it for him.

The chunk pulsed in his hands.

The ambient Qi in the chamber gathered into the chunk. And from it, tugging on that connection, it passed it to him.

Each pulse from the wood sent a wave of Qi crashing into his dantian, flowing into the still malleable structure of his foundation. He couldn't gather Qi himself. But if the Qi entered his body somehow, it was fair game.

A single drop of Liquid Qi formed once more. An eighth drop.

Perhaps if he used some kind of pill, he would have been able to pull this off. But Cheng was paranoid. And he wasn't about to let his perfect foundation fail just because some pill was laced with ill intent. Perhaps the sect truly had no scene by feeding each cultivator a pill to break through. But Cheng didn't trust that.

He guided the drop carefully, not to his dantian, but to his liver.

The first six remaining drops had settled into his heart, lungs, brain, bone marrow, and the last two he had into parts of his muscles, respectively.

Theoretically, a cultivator needed only three drops to advance.

One for the dantian, one for the heart, and one for the brain.

But the more drops one had to use, the more their body would grow. This was where the potential to break into the next stage came into play.

The book explained the concept easily. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

If Qi condensation was gathering clay, and foundation establishment, forming a cup, then the next realm was supposedly to fill it.

But if the cup had imperfections. parts where it was formed without the crucial drops.

Then you would find it harder and harder to fill said cup. Or perhaps, you wouldn't be able to. Your body wouldn't handle so much Qi.

Weeks passed, as Cheng focused on folding the Qi the chunk of wood provided him into drops.

He would form a one, absorb it, and then rest.

Each new drop brought change. Not just to his body, but to his mind. His thoughts were clearer. Emotions sharper. His memory was more precise. And most importantly. That new sense he had found had revealed itself completely, and its entirety.

Twenty drops.

Thirty.

Each one expanded what his body could hold.

By the thirty fifth drop, Cheng began to feel the limits. Not because he didn't have enough Qi around him. But rather, that his body was getting filled to the brim. Like a container, it had slowly filled, leaving no space for more to enter.

And then, Forty drops. No more.

This one was special. because it didn't settle into place. Like a drop of water on a calm lake, it sent out ripples. And it dispersed into the last parts that his body hadn't been filled.

He exhaled. Once. Then twice. He could feel his cultivation stabilise.

His dantian pulsed. Not just with power, but with completion.

His foundation was beyond solid. Not average. Perfect.

Cheng stood up. And the moment his foundation settled, everything exploded.

Every sense he had, magnified to the extreme.

"How nice. Feels like I was living with my eyes closed." He mumbled, his voice sounding too strong in his ears.

Cheng took a deep breath and let out a deep laugh.

It wasn't one of happiness. It was one of madness.

One born from his obsession to create the perfect foundation he sought out. And he had succeeded.

From this moment onwards, Jiang Cheng was no longer an average cultivator.