The Dao meridian was the foundation of cultivation.
This "Dao" was not the Dao of the Daoist sect — it was the Dao of the Great Way. Whether Buddhist, Daoist, Confucian, Military, Legalist, or any other school, every cultivator must first manifest their Dao meridian before setting foot on the path.
In ancient times, those called "cultivation seeds" were ones whose Dao meridians had naturally appeared at birth. But humanity did not let talent dictate destiny. The Meridian-Opening Pill was one solution to the problem of cultivation aptitude.
By borrowing the pill's power, a person's Dao meridian could be manifested. It also stimulated the body's vitality, nourishing the flesh. The feedback of qi and blood would then nurture Dao essence — and so the cultivation journey began.
Compared to the artifacts Zuo Guanglie had lost to the explosion, a Meridian-Opening Pill should not be considered precious.
But to this beggar, trapped at the end of his road, it was the sole key to unlocking the treasure within the human body.
Through all of history, nothing was harder than a single death. When fate reached a dead end, one could only beg heaven for grace!
Now, the beggar had seized his key of hope.
He was so devout.
He cradled the jade bottle in trembling hands, brought his quivering lips to the broken opening, tilted his head back — and down!
Beside him: the silent ruined temple. In the distance: the corpses of beggars. At his side: shattered flesh and bone.
The setting sun cast its last rays, clouds scattering at the horizon. Corpses lay in the field — and a sick beggar swallowed a pill.
The Meridian-Opening Pill rolled onto his tongue, dissolved into a warm current, and flowed down his throat to spread through every limb and bone.
The beggar half-closed his eyes. In that moment, a thousand images cascaded through his mind.
Years of training in summer heat and winter cold. Spring and autumn spent practicing the sword.
Hunting great bandits, battling fierce outlaws.
Until at last he walked down from the bandit-infested Western Mountains alone, sword in hand, drenched in blood from head to toe.
That was the price of a single Meridian-Opening Pill.
How many years had he spent approaching the world of the extraordinary?
He had given everything. He had struggled ceaselessly. How had he come to this?
His mother had died young. His father, sick and dying, had nearly drained the family's last resources.
He was alone — his own sole support.
He had passed the千里-picks-one examination to enter the Dao Academy. He had risen to the top of the fiercely competitive Outer Court. Only then had he first grasped the key to the extraordinary.
But that Meridian-Opening Pill had been stolen by the one person he trusted most.
Poison. Ambush.
He had fought his way out with his life. To evade the search parties, he had hidden among beggars.
He had planned to bide his time — but his body could not hold on.
He grew weaker and weaker, until he could only lie on a pile of straw, awaiting death.
He had dragged his sick body out to search the battlefield, driven only by a heart that refused to surrender. And never did he expect to find a Meridian-Opening Pill!
Why a figure as mighty as Zuo Guanglie would carry such a pill — that answer had died with his legend, never to be known.
But the beggar's story had gained a new chapter.
Such was the unpredictability of fate.
The beggar gathered his thoughts and felt the indescribable changes in his body.
He sensed a warm force radiating from every corner of his body, "swimming" through him in ways he could not comprehend, finally converging toward his spine.
The process was slow yet distinct.
After an unknown time, a faint power rose from the base of his spine, climbing upward along the spinal column. It felt like an earthworm swimming upstream in a river.
The journey was arduous, but the warmth from every part of his body sustained it... until the "little earthworm" finally completed its long voyage, pierced through the spine, and charged to the crown of his head!
A miracle occurred.
He seemed to see light within his body.
Warmth erupted from every limb, every corner of his flesh.
He no longer felt cold. No longer weak. No longer in pain.
The Dao meridian had manifested. Vitality nourished him.
The beggar opened his eyes, his gaze bright and spirited.
He felt power flooding his body. He had seized control of his destiny once more!
His Dao meridian had appeared — and though its true spirit was merely the lowliest of earthworms, it meant he could officially set foot on the extraordinary path.
To fly through the sky, to dive into the earth, to roam the azure heavens — these were no longer unreachable dreams!
Someday, Gongyang Bai, Mo Jingyu, even Zuo Guanglie, even Li Yi... those thunderous names — what they could do, he could do too!
...
The beggar stood and looked down at the pile of shredded flesh.
The living gazed at the dead. An opening connected to a closing.
He buried Zuo Guanglie and the beggars outside the temple. Even with his newly manifested Dao meridian and abundant energy, it took him until the moon reached its zenith.
It was perhaps a small, pointless thing — but it was the principle he lived by.
Those beggars had chosen to abandon him when danger came. But in his dying days, they had not thrown him into the wilderness. They could not afford medicine or a doctor, but they had given him sips of water.
For that alone, he would do what he could to see them laid to rest. So that having suffered in this life, they would not be destitute and unsupported in the next.
People believed that only in burial could the dead find peace. In the vast, heavy, merciful embrace of the earth, departed souls could rest.
Finally, the beggar stood before Zuo Guanglie's grave.
"The one who buried you is no nameless nobody. Zhuang Kingdom, Qinghe Commandery, Fenglin City..." Under the moonlight, the beggar stood before the small grave — filthy, grimy — yet with his spine straight and his heart unflinching, he spoke his name: "Jiang Wang."
A tiger cub, its stripes not yet grown, but with the air to devour an ox.
"And you did not die in a nameless place. This place is called Huánzhēn Temple. Though the faded plaque can barely be read, and its name is unknown to the world — it shall be known because of you!"
Having said this, Jiang Wang bowed deeply and sincerely. "May your spirit find peace in the heavens."
This bow was not only for the Meridian-Opening Pill Zuo Guanglie had left behind. It was for the compassion, the candor, and the valor he had displayed.
A figure like Zuo Guanglie deserved every respect.
That night was a full moon. Bright moonlight fell upon the fresh grave.
In the unseen world, a wisp of breeze seemed to stir.
Jiang Wang saw points of silver light drift from Zuo Guanglie's grave, rising slowly in the moonlight, converging into a small, silver crescent moon. It floated above the grave, within his reach — mysterious and noble.
"This is..."
Understanding dawned on Jiang Wang.
He reached out and grasped the silver crescent.
The world went black.
In that seemingly endless darkness, a gentle voice resonated. It seemed to contain the ultimate truths of heaven and earth, the profound mysteries of the Great Way — hearing it cleared the mind and spirit.
"Welcome, Lord of the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land!"
In the next instant, a point of light appeared. Then countless points of light.
The lights obscured his vision. When Jiang Wang's sight returned, he saw — in that vast darkness — a river of brilliant stars flowing!
And before the star-river, a young man hovered.
The youth had clear, bright eyes, a high, straight nose, and an expression so gentle it seemed incapable of aggression. Only the slight press of his lips hinted at stubbornness. He wore nothing but a Dao robe of indeterminate material — no other adornment.
Jiang Wang was stunned.
Because that youth was himself. Though dressed differently, far cleaner than his current state — how could he fail to recognize himself?
And he was "looking" at himself from some angle he could not yet comprehend — not in a visual sense.
"Dao essence feedback insufficient. Dao-Platform nineteenth layer sealed."
The gentle voice spoke again in the vast starry sky.
"Dao-Platform eighteenth layer sealed."
...
"Dao-Platform second layer sealed."
Each time the words were spoken, the star-river before him dimmed another fraction.
Jiang Wang tried to comprehend what he observed. Then he heard:
"Third-rank Sword-Discussion Platform sealed."
"Fourth-rank Sword-Discussion Platform sealed."
This continued down to "Eighth-rank Sword-Discussion Platform sealed" before stopping.
Jiang Wang didn't understand the meaning — but it surely related to his weak strength. The "Lord of the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land" should have been Zuo Guanglie, not him.
At the same time, he noticed a line of text floating in his field of view — characters he had never seen before.
These characters were entirely different from the Zhuang Kingdom script he had studied. They were utterly foreign — yet he clearly perceived their meaning.
"Merit: 1,850 points."
As Jiang Wang pondered, the youth — his other self — suddenly stepped forward and merged with him.
The process was so brief it could almost be omitted. Jiang Wang flexed his hands and feet — everything responded perfectly. In this mysterious world, he finally had a body in some meaningful sense.
And in the next instant, the stars in that vast void surged — and an entire river of brilliant stars rushed toward him!
He was submerged in the star-river.
Time seemed to lose its meaning. When Jiang Wang came back to himself, he found himself in a space wreathed in immortal mist, with many streams of information flowing through his mind.
This was the world of the Great Void Illusion. The Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land he now possessed existed within this world's embrace.
The silver crescent he had grasped was called the Void Key. It was the key to entering this place. Using the power of the Lunar Star, it drew the host's spiritual consciousness into the Great Void Illusion.
Here, everything was simulated with perfect fidelity. Aside from causing no harm to the host's physical body, everything was indistinguishable from reality.
The Dao-Platform was a place for deducing and refining techniques and Dao arts. The cost of deduction was "Merit."
The Sword-Discussion Platform was dedicated to crossing the Great Void Illusion and sparring with other cultivators.
"Merit" was primarily earned through combat. Between equals: victory added merit, defeat deducted it. Challenging those of higher rank carried corresponding bonuses.
There were other methods as well. For instance, each corresponding Blessed Land would periodically produce Merit.
Among the seventy-two Blessed Lands, the lowest-ranked Donghai Mountain Blessed Land produced one hundred Merit per month. For the lower thirty-six Blessed Lands, each rank increase added ten. For the upper thirty-six, each rank increase added one hundred.
The Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land that Zuo Guanglie had occupied was ranked twenty-third, producing 1,850 Merit per month.
This was now Jiang Wang's provision.
Though he didn't yet understand its full utility, he could already hear his own heart pounding.
This place... this place!
This world of brilliant stars seemed to harbor immense secrets.
Just the Dao-Platform and Sword-Discussion Platform it revealed already opened up a vast, stirring world.
To deduce the Dao at a Blessed Land, to discuss the sword amid a river of stars — how magnificent!
And before today, Jiang Wang had never even heard its name.
His emotions surged, unable to settle — until his gaze fell upon a sundial phantom, and he saw these words:
*The Lord of this Blessed Land shall, in fifteen days, accept the challenge of the Twenty-Four Green Jade Altars' Lords.*
*Failure will result in demotion.*
Five characters, black as ink, each weighing a thousand pounds.