Chapter 13 — The Qi That Stayed

CHAPTER 13

The Qi That Stayed

Shi Feng drew the next breath slowly and pulled the surrounding qi into his body.

This time, he wasn't trying to wake another meridian. All three hundred and sixty-five already answered him. He needed to gather qi, refine it, and keep it instead of letting it scatter after each breath.

The old stone cellar was quiet. Above the ceiling, wind shook the abandoned hunting hut. He sat with his back straight and followed the breathing exercise taught to every Shi clan junior.

At first, the qi passed through him too quickly.

His meridians could take far more than his body could yet refine. Drawing harder only filled him with loose, restless strength. Shi Feng slowed down and compressed a small current instead.

The current narrowed.

A little of it stayed.

He checked again, afraid he'd mistaken the feeling.

It was still there.

“Qi Condensation,” Shi Feng said softly. “I've finally reached it.”

He was delighted. After eighteen months of being called a cripple, the first lasting strand of refined qi mattered more than the clan's old praise ever did.

The sleeping meridians were awake, but that alone hadn't completed his breakthrough. Meridian Opening built the paths. Qi Condensation began filling his body with strength he could actually use.

Shi Feng continued until the pale light beneath the cellar door brightened. When he stood, the qi remained inside him. He raised one hand, guided a little toward his fingertips, and pressed against a loose brick.

Crack!

The brick split beneath his fingers.

Shi Feng looked at the pieces and smiled. That wasn't the strength of a starving young man dragging a spear through mud. His old martial training finally had something to work with again.

He tried a second movement. Too much qi rushed into his arm and broke another corner from the brick.

“Enough,” Shi Feng muttered. “The hut hasn't offended me.”

Power wasn't control. He repeated the exercise with less force until he could make a shallow mark without breaking the whole brick.

The difference became clear when he tried to keep the current in one finger. It spread into his palm instead. Shi Feng stopped, gathered it again, and used a thinner stream.

After a dozen attempts, the warmth remained where he directed it.

That would matter in a fight. Pouring everything into one wild blow would waste his strength and make the next movement slow. A short, controlled burst would support the strike without dragging his balance out of place.

He practiced a plain forward punch, then withdrew it along the same line. The first attempt shook his sleeve. The next stopped cleanly.

Shi Feng thought: I don't need a grand technique yet. I need to use what I already know. He packed only after the new current obeyed him.

Then he drew his qi inward. The faint pressure around his body disappeared as he settled his breathing. He didn't need a special secret art to stop showing off every current he possessed.

The town could keep its cripple.

He knew what was inside him.

By noon, Shi Feng reached Yunze Town along the dry northern track. His pack held the same few tools, a damaged short spear, and money that wouldn't last if he spent every day resting.

Deng Hu's nephew met him at the fish carts with a folded receipt. Meng Shou's name and the clinic seal stood beside a note: living sample received, still rooted. Shi Feng put it away. The physician had what he needed; the paid delivery had reached its end.

The first thing Shi Feng wanted now was a sword.

A boar-hunting spear was useful, but the Shi clan's common sword forms were the movements he knew best. He couldn't afford a fine weapon. He could afford plain steel that wouldn't fold after striking bone.

Tan Tie's smithy stood beside a row of charcoal baskets. The smith was broad through the shoulders, with one burned eyebrow. He didn't stop hammering until Shi Feng picked up a straight sword from the cheaper rack.

“Twelve spirit stones,” Tan Tie said. “Scabbard included.”

“Ordinary steel?” Shi Feng asked.

“Ordinary steel,” Tan Tie replied. “Try the grip. No, not that way. Thumb lower.”

Shi Feng adjusted his hand and tested a short thrust.

Tan Tie grunted approval. The smith watched the blade rather than the faded clan mark on his customer’s collar. A straight thrust interested him more than a ruined genius.

“The edge will chip if you strike rock,” Tan Tie said. “Come complain before you do it, not after.”

Shi Feng drew it halfway. The edge was even. The grip fit his palm. He checked the blade's line against the doorway and laid down the price.

Tan Tie took the stones and returned to his work.

A few hammer marks remained near the hilt. The scabbard was plain wood wrapped in dark cloth. Shi Feng was satisfied with a weapon that cut.

Outside, two boys argued over a roasted sweet potato. One claimed the larger half because he was older. The other took the smaller half, then demanded the whole skin. Their mother slapped both hands away and divided it herself.

Shi Feng bought a rice cake from the next stall and ate while walking toward the medicine street. Qian Rui spotted him before he reached the purple awning.

“Young Master Shi! Your complexion has improved!” Qian Rui cried. “This Qian Rui's advice is clearly helping!”

“I didn't take your medicine,” Shi Feng said.

“Advice doesn't have to be swallowed,” Qian Rui replied immediately.

Shi Feng looked at the piles of books beneath the counter. Several hunters were buying cheap manuals beside bottles of wound wash.

“Do you have a book on Bone Refinement?” Shi Feng asked.

Qian Rui's little eyes brightened.

“Three spirit stones. Common printing, complete pages,” Qian Rui said, pulling out a thin blue booklet.

Shi Feng checked the title and the chapter on the order of the bones, then paid. A common method was enough to begin. He didn't need a shopkeeper's promise of an ancient immortal.

Qian Rui leaned across the counter before he could leave.

“Why study that? Your meridians are still ruined, aren't they?” Qian Rui asked.

“I can read,” Shi Feng said.

Qian Rui paused, then nodded with great seriousness.

“A good attitude!” Qian Rui said. “Even a man who can't cultivate should cultivate his mind!”

Shi Feng left before the quack could sell him something for his mind too. The booklet fitted inside his robe. He returned to the lodging house before the afternoon crowd filled the street.

Back at the lodging house, Shi Feng closed his door and laid the booklet beside his new sword.

He practiced the clan's basic cuts first. Straight thrust. Downward cut. Step back and guard. His cuts were plain and quick. Every stroke went straight where he'd aimed.

His body remembered the movements better than his hands expected. The sword stopped where he wanted instead of dragging his shoulder forward. When he turned, the qi inside him followed.

Shi Feng felt confident, but he didn't rush the next realm.

The booklet was blunt about that. Qi Condensation wasn't finished just because a cultivator could break a brick or frighten a neighbor. The qi had to be refined until it could steadily strengthen the body and enter the bones.

He still had work to do.

For now, his strength would let him hunt better prey and earn better money. The All-Devouring Physique supplied resources. It didn't swing a sword for him or complete his training while he slept.

A shout rose from the market square outside.

“Ten spirit stones for anyone who lifts it! Come test the strength Heaven gave you!” Ding Hai shouted.

Shi Feng glanced toward the shutter.

The voice shouted again. Somebody cheered. Somebody else groaned that the stone was too heavy.

He put the manual away and fastened his sword at his waist.

Heaven wasn't paying his room bill. Perhaps the shouting man would.