C4 The Pagoda Spiritual Liquid!

Days flew by as Feng Yi and Hong Jinbao tirelessly performed the same tasks each day: fetching three jars of water, piling up three stacks of firewood, and assisting their senior brothers by washing their long robes.

Despite their best efforts, they were only human and completing these tasks was a challenge. Fortunately, Senior Brother Qing Feng seemed unconcerned with their struggles, focusing solely on his own cultivation. He never punished them, though if they failed to finish their tasks, they would receive one less white bun the following day.

On a slope of Heavenly Mountain, Feng Yi and Hong Jinbao were busy splitting logs.

"Curse that Qing Feng, that damn Qing Feng, always eating white buns. I'm so sick of them I could taste birds, and he still won't let us eat our fill, piling on endless work. I'll be dead from exhaustion before I ever become an immortal," Hong Jinbao grumbled, each swing of his axe venting his frustration as if the wood were Qing Feng himself.

"Come on, you know cultivating isn't that easy," Feng Yi replied with a chuckle.

"Feng Yi, how's your progress with the entry-level heart method? Can you sense the Spiritual Qi yet?" Hong Jinbao asked, his interest piqued.

"Not yet, what about you?"

"Sigh, how can I sense Spiritual Qi when I can barely get enough to eat?"

"I just wish I could soar through the skies and tunnel through the earth like our senior brothers," Feng Yi mused, his eyes alight with longing.

Despite the challenges, Feng Yi had made some gains over the past several days. His body was much stronger and his skin had darkened, giving him a rugged appearance.

"It's getting late, and I think a thunderstorm is coming. We should head back," Feng Yi suggested, and Hong Jinbao couldn't help but admire his knack for predicting the weather; Feng Yi had been right about the last three storms.

Having gathered enough firewood, they made their way back to their dwelling as evening approached.

After consuming a meager white bun, Feng Yi settled into his cultivation practice.

True to Feng Yi's prediction, the night sky was soon shrouded in dark clouds, with thunder rumbling ominously. While deep in his cultivation, Feng Yi suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest. Instinctively, he reached for the pagoda amulet the abbot had given him.

Suddenly, Feng Yi was rooted to the spot in astonishment.

The pagoda emitted a series of blinding lights, reminiscent of thunderbolts, spreading ceaselessly across its surface.

The light was so intense that it caused a numbing sensation in his palm.

What in the world was happening?

Feng Yi was alarmed and clueless about the unfolding events.

Peering through the window, he observed the storm raging outside and a thought struck him.

Could there be a connection to the lightning?

Without hesitation, Feng Yi stepped outside and cradled the pagoda in his palm.

After half an hour, the pagoda in Feng Yi's hand began to emit a glow, seemingly reflecting the distant lightning in the sky.

As the light flickered, the pagoda began to levitate without any breeze, and soon, it was covered in a layer of dense, fine droplets.

An aromatic scent wafted to Feng Yi's nostrils, leaving him feeling refreshed and delighted.

Could these droplets be some kind of spiritual essence?

"Drink it, drink it!"

An inexplicable voice echoed in Feng Yi's mind, urging him to consume the droplets from the pagoda.

Reflecting on the nearly two months since he began his training without sensing any spiritual energy, Feng Yi steeled his resolve.

He placed the pagoda to his lips, licked the droplets clean with his tongue, and swallowed them all.

A jolt ran through his body, causing him to shudder, and his skin began to sting.

A putrid smell invaded his nostrils as he watched a black, foul liquid seep out from his pores.

Minutes later, Feng Yi felt significantly lighter and even began to sense the subtle spiritual energy flowing through the air.

"Treasure!"

The word escaped Feng Yi's lips. The pagoda was undoubtedly a treasure. The words of his master suddenly came to mind.

"Feng Yi, this old man acquired this treasure from an Immortal.

Seeing your earnest desire to pursue immortality, I am giving this treasure to you, hoping you will make the most of it.

Remember, never let anyone know that you possess this treasure."

Recalling his master's serious countenance and words of caution, Feng Yi realized that his master was far more complex than he appeared on the surface.

This treasure must remain a secret. Feng Yi inhaled deeply and quickly stowed the pagoda away.

The foul odor emanating from his body, however, was nearly unbearable. Stripping off his clothes, he dashed outside into the pouring rain to cleanse himself thoroughly.

Mysteriously, after a bout of profuse sweating, Feng Yi's vision sharpened. Amidst the stormy night, he could discern objects several yards away.

Elated, Feng Yi hurried back inside to practice his foundational cultivation technique.

As dawn approached, he sensed a peculiar gas from the air seeping into his body through his pores, leaving him feeling serene and almost weightless.

"Spiritual Qi, this has to be Spiritual Qi," Feng Yi exclaimed, his face alight with astonishment.

With time, he was confident he could successfully condense his Qi.

Unbeknownst to Feng Yi, the black sweat purging his body of impurities was known among cultivators as a bone-cleansing, marrow-washing process. This practice, which greatly enhances cultivation efficiency, is usually reserved for those of exceptional talent, with only sects or families willing to invest heavily in such individuals.

Feng Yi had indeed received an immense boon.

He retrieved the pagoda from his pocket, aware that he must keep it a secret or risk dire consequences.

Securing the pagoda close, Feng Yi left his dwelling to commence his sect's daily tasks.

Now capable of absorbing Spiritual Qi, Feng Yi's agility had improved significantly. His swift and efficient wood chopping left Hong Jinbao utterly astonished.

"Feng Yi, you must have snuck some meat last night!" Hong Jinbao blurted out, his face a mix of shock and awe.

"Have you managed to condense your Qi?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"How could that be? With our Five-element False Spirit Root aptitude, it would take at least three to five years of dedicated effort to condense Qi. Even Qing Feng took three years to achieve it."

"You seem to know quite a bit. Even though I haven't successfully condensed my Qi, I can already sense the Spiritual Qi in the air," Feng Yi said, his smile tinged with a mix of sincerity and deception that left Hong Jinbao thoroughly impressed.

"Wow, Feng Yi, you're practically my hero. My admiration for you flows endlessly like a mighty river. From this moment on, you're my big brother, and I'll be your loyal little brother."

"I'm not sure I can handle having a little brother like you, hahaha!" Feng Yi chuckled, shouldering his bundle of firewood and heading back to his dwelling, with Hong Jinbao eagerly trotting along behind him.

Time flew, and before we knew it, half a year had passed. Qing Feng, having advanced to the Third Layer of the Qi Condensation Stage, was called to join the ranks of the Outer Sect Disciples.

Before departing, Qing Feng, with a mysterious air, advised Feng Yi and Hong Jinbao, "If you put in the effort, you could reach my level in three to five years." With those parting words, Qing Feng strode away from the place that held so many memories.

Feng Yi had been on the cusp of the Qi Condensation Stage for some time, but Hong Jinbao's remarks had sparked caution in him, and he had yet to make the breakthrough.

Under a moonless sky, with a brisk wind caressing his face, months had passed since Qing Feng's departure. One evening, as Feng Yi gazed up at the vast expanse of stars, he was lost in a sea of dreams and aspirations, murmuring to himself, "Ms. Fairy, just wait for me. Within three years, I promise I'll be standing right before you."