《Sexcapades of a Burly Monk》36 - 10,000 Return to 1
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One month flew by. Throughout the White Immortal sect’s outer court, disciples emerged from weeks of secluded cultivation—brimming with battle intent. Most of the contestants had broken through to the ninth or tenth level of Qi Refinement—those often belonged to interest groups and would compete under a superior contestant’s leadership. A scant few had cultivated an upward of 200 Spiritual Drops, and some even completed the first phase of their Return to One.
The demarcation line between Qi Refinement and Foundation Building, the Return to One prevented 60% of Dongli’s cultivators from ever breaking through to the Foundation Building stage. Two deciding factors went into a successful breakthrough: Spiritual Drops and Root Elements.
To break through to the Foundation Building stage, Qi Refinement practitioners had to merge at least 100 Spiritual Drops into a Qi Pool. The more Spiritual drops they merged into the Qi Pool, the sturdier their Foundation. But at the same time, the more Spiritual Drops they attempted to merge, the more challenging the Return to One became. As if that wasn’t enough, root elements also played a significant role in the practitioner’s progress. Fewer elements produced a more harmonious dantian, which simplified the process.
Thus, if by some miracle a Five-Elements Spiritual Root owner reached the peak of Qi Refinement, the chaotic and conflicting Spiritual Drops in their dantian would still prevent them from breaking through to Foundation Building—in theory, at least.
At the center of the sect’s core zone, a nine meters long pagoda stood out. Thick waves of Spiritual Qi undulated its walls, a phenomenon caused by the plethora of spiritual veins gathering underneath the pagoda. Two figures occupied the greeting hall. One, a lanky middle-aged man standing with his arms crossed behind his back; the other, a handsome young disciple: Guang Fanghu and Rong Suishan.
One month prior, Rong Suishan had capped at 350 Spiritual Drops. Truth be told, in the three years since Xinzi had joined the sect, Rong Suishan had barely made any progress and delayed his Foundation Building breakthrough for the Yin-Yang Controller selection. Following his tragic humiliation in Xinzi’s Liberation Temple, Rong Suishan followed Guang Fanghu’s orders and completed the first phase of his Return to One. Now half-a-step into Foundation Building, his cultivation base had made a considerable leap.
“Suishan, I promised your mother that I’d take care of you. But today, the sect might need you to sacrifice yourself to ensure that Xia Hu cannot win the Yang battle. Are you willing to accept this task?” Guang Fanghu asked. His back faced Rong Suishan, and his eyes observed a map of the Yanzhou state with scrutiny.
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Rong Suishan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His Rong clan might be a high-ranking aristocratic house in Dongli, but that alone didn’t warrant the attention of the White Immortal sect’s master. No, Rong Suishan owed this blessing to his late mother, Guang Fanghu’s maternal cousin, and a senior princess of the Dongli royal house: the Shui clan.
The main vassal of the Dong clan, the Shui clan ruled the Dongli state in the White Immortal sect’s name, enabling it to hoard the majority of the state’s capital. Still, in the eyes of the Dong clan elite, the Shui clansmen were nothing more than pawns and elite baby-producers—their centuries of hard work mattered very little.
If not for Guang Fanghu’s attachment to his late cousin, Rong Suishan could not establish such a firm foothold in the White Immortal sect. But at times, the outer court’s prime disciple wondered if he would not be better off without his uncle’s shelter. This was one such time. Guang Fanghu seemed to give him a choice, yet his tone left no room for rejection. Realizing that, regardless of the cost, he had to see his uncle’s plan through, the prime disciple broke into cold sweat and fell into a kowtow.
“Sect master, don’t worry. The Yin-Yang Sword Array cannot fall into the hands of a baseborn bastard such as Xia Hu. Even if I must put my life on the line, I will make sure to take him down with me!” Rong Suishan said, and at the same time considered how he could escape that nightmare scenario. Had Xinzi accepted his allegiance, the job would have been much simpler. But now…
“Don’t worry. Uncle will not let you risk your life because of a mere Xia Hu. I’ve added two excellent yellow-grade Formation Masters to your team and several disciples with over 200 Spiritual Drops. Nevertheless, in case the formations and treasures can’t take Xia Hu down, you’ll have to use this,” Guang Fanghu said and tapped his storage ring. A dark-green pill flew out, floating towards Rong Suishan. Without delay, Rong Suishan appraised the pill—his face blanched subsequently.
“What? Reluctant?”
“No! My current achievements are the result of your guidance. I...I would never dare… As-as you command...sect master! But w-what about Xinzi?” Rong Suishan did his best to deflect the topic. His voice betrayed him, his body trembled, and he dared not lift his eyes. If Guang Fanghu sensed his nephew’s discomfort, he showed none of it.
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“Xia Hu’s meteoric rise comes from unknown and likely heretical sources. Xinzi is the more reliable talent, is valued by the great elders, and has the cleaner background. One is a self-imbued upstart, the other can afford to run amok. You shouldn’t compare them,” Guang Fanghu said. The cultivation world thrived on injustice. Expecting superior clans to judge their disciples based on the same moral standards made as much sense as madness. More importantly, Guang Fanghu was a fairly reasonable fiend, and only lost his patience with those he thought could lead his treasured daughter astray. Xinzi wasn’t one of them...or so he thought.
“Still, there are limits that even superior talents shouldn’t be allowed to cross. Xinzi needs a small warning, if only to remind him that the White Immortal sect’s master...is still surnamed Dong,” Guang Fanghu said, making Rong Suishan realize that he’d underestimated his uncle’s pettiness.
…
In the meantime, Dong Ling and Xinzi ended their last dual cultivation session. Across this month of secluded dual cultivation, Xinzi paired the yin-yang revolution with his Evil Qi to produce an extra 999 Spiritual Drops. Dong Ling cultivated 1,200 extra Spiritual Drops, putting her at the same qi level as Chun Xu. With the Yin-Yang Controller contest nearing, Dong Ling focused on stabilizing her Spiritual Drops; Xinzi, on the other end, targeted the first phase of his Return to One: the Gathering.
By combining their Spiritual Drops into a Qi Spiral, the contestants could complete the first phase of their Qi Pool, enabling them to boost their cultivation base and battle-power without making a full breakthrough into Foundation Building. Drops couldn’t exist in the spiral state for long so, after the competition, those disciples would all have to challenge the Foundation Building stage—regardless of the injuries they sustained.
Xinzi’s dantian housed 10,999, enough to produce a supreme spiral and complete the legendary 10,000 Return to 1—the monk could write nine theses on all the benefits such a foundation would bring forth on his road to the True Immortal realm.
Eyes shut tight, Xinzi joined his hands in a prayer sign. Over 10,000 Spiritual Drops rotated in his dantian—forced into a disordered mess by his Spiritual Sense. The greater the benefits, the higher the risk. Even Xinzi couldn’t guarantee a seamless fusion of over 10,000 Spiritual Drops. Thankfully, he had Tusha to set up formations, and a sacrilegious pair of demonic body and divine soul to rely on. The Clear Heart Mantra flowed out of the monk’s lips, balancing his mental state while his Spiritual Sense operated on the 10,999 drops.
One after the other, Spiritual Drops contracted into a coiling spiral of Spiritual Qi—aligning through 109 rotations as our monk completed the gathering phase of the Return to One. Xinzi sensed that with only one extra drop, he could bring his rotation count to 110. Alas, no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn’t come up with a way to add that one more drop to the mix. His dantian couldn’t take it. In-between glee and disappointment, Xinzi chanted his mantra, shut his emotions out, and stabilized his spiral. This was the last breakthrough Xinzi would achieve in Qi Refinement. The thought made his lips curl up, and his eyes opened wide.
“In my absence, focus on producing more Sanguine Reincarnations from your horde of Blood Spirits. Blood Spirits are too sensitive to mental attacks, I’d rather not rely on them—at least not before we can surround them with leaders able to cancel that weakness. If I need your intervention, I will summon you through Chun Xu.”
“As you command, master!” Xinzi gave Tusha his directives and stood up. Perhaps Dong Ling had been waiting for him all along, for as soon as our monk rose, the snakegirl got up—flashing him a coy smile.
“It’s time,” Xinzi said. Dong Ling wrapped her arms around his, and the two walked towards the exit.
“If you’re half as fierce as you’ve been for the last month, they stand no chance,” the snakegirl said.
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