Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

The first step in cultivation lies not in gathering power, but in understanding the channels through which it flows. Like water seeking its course through stone, qi follows ancient pathways laid down in our very essence. To open these channels requires not brute force, but patient wisdom—for the body knows its own nature, and will yield its secrets to those who listen.

—Sage Master Li Wei, Keeper of the Eternal Patterns

Xiulan circled the stone table in her back courtyard, inspecting the delivered ingredients. Sunlight filtered through the garden’s cherry trees as the scents of the herbs mingled with fresh morning air.

Pure spring water splashed against bronze tools as she methodically cleaned each instrument. The mortar and pestle required extra attention—any contamination would ruin the entire batch.

She arranged the components in precise order: Dawn Serpent scales glittered like captured starlight, Thunder Root pulsed with latent energy, and Blood Lotus petals released a metallic sweetness.

The spirit stones were set to the side.

The stone cauldron sat heavy and cold. She stacked kindling beneath it.

She had done this so many times in the game manually that it felt like second nature. This was just… a more hands on approach.

She struck the flint, and eventually flames licked upward. It would take a while for the cauldron to come to the correct temperature.

Dawn Serpent scales clinked against the mortar. Each methodical grind produced iridescent powder that caught the light. She pressed harder, reducing the scales to fine dust. Her already aching arms burned from the effort, but she maintained the steady rhythm. A silk sieve separated any remaining chunks—only the finest powder would suffice.

The Thunder Root required precision cuts. Xiulan drew her knife across the gnarled surface, peeling away translucent sections thin enough to see through. Static electricity crackled between the slices as she laid them out to dry. Fifteen minutes exactly—she pulled out an hourglass and set it to counting.

While waiting, she separated Blood Lotus petals from their stems. Each crimson petal contained precious essence. Too much pressure would destroy their properties, too little would waste their potential. She pressed each one with calculated gentleness, releasing drops of blood-red liquid into a waiting bowl.

Xiulan lifted the two lesser spirit stones from their silk wrapping. The crystalline formations pulsed with stored energy against her palms. She placed them precisely in the cauldron’s center, positioning them to maximize energy distribution.

The purified water splashed against the heated metal. Four cups—no more, no less. Steam rose in a burst she had to avoid, and then in delicate wisps.

She watched intently, monitoring the surface for the telltale signs. Come on, just like in the game manual. Tiny bubbles formed along the bottom, rising in a steady stream.

She divided the Dawn Serpent scale powder into three equal portions on separate squares of parchment. The first portion scattered across the water’s surface in a shimmering cloud.

Eight clockwise stirs sent ripples of iridescent light through the mixture. The second portion followed, then eight more precise stirs. The final portion completed the sequence.

Xiulan adjusted the firewood beneath the cauldron, reducing the flames to a steady glow. The timer for the thunder root finished, and she quickly went to work grinding the slices in the mortar. She had little time to do this part.

Five minutes, tops. Thankfully, it only took her three.

The Thunder Root powder trickled through her fingers as she stirred counter-clockwise. Static crackled across the surface with each addition.

Time stretched as she maintained the precise temperature. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the constant heat and concentration.

The Blood Lotus petals dropped one by one into the swirling mixture. Each crimson petal dissolved in a small burst of red. The liquid shimmered with combined power as the minutes of simmering ticked by.

Wisps of vapor curled up from the cauldron’s surface. Xiulan yanked away several burning logs, scattering them across the stone courtyard. The mixture bubbled less vigorously as the heat decreased.

Each stir sent ripples of color through the liquid—from iridescent gold to deep crimson. The spirit stones pulsed rhythmically at the cauldron’s bottom, their energy merging with the swirling concoction. Xiulan counted each rotation, maintaining a steady pressure against the thickening mixture.

The color deepened with each passing of the ladle. Crimson darkened to blood-red, then stabilized into a rich garnet. Xiulan lifted the cauldron off its stand and set it on a cooling rack.

Steam rose in lazy spirals as she reset her hourglass. Ten minutes. Not a second more or less.

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The morning breeze carried cherry blossoms across her workspace. One landed in the mixture—Xiulan plucked it out before it could contaminate the batch.

As the final grains of sand fell, Xiulan lifted the still-warm cauldron.

The mixture poured in a smooth stream into the waiting pill molds—each depression precisely measured to contain the correct dosage. The liquid settled into perfect orbs inside the mold. She pinched them shut tight and a little squirt of excess liquid shot out. A string bound them.

The molds began to turn color to mimic the liquid inside.

One hour until they solidify. Xiulan arranged her tools for cleaning while she waited. When she finished that, there was nothing left to do but fidget.

Xiulan paced the stone path, then checked the main residence. The morning air carried only bird songs and distant servant chatter—no sounds of approaching danger or schemes. Why does everything feel too quiet? She circled back to check the courtyard’s entrance again. Empty.

A glance at the garden’s sundial pushed her back to the workspace. The pills demanded attention, regardless of paranoid thoughts.

Golden light emanated from the cooling molds, drawing her closer. The rich metallic sheen confirmed what thousands of hours in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles had taught her—perfect quality. Just like the countless times she’d crafted these for her characters.

She undid the binding and then bonked the molds. Two perfect orbs rolled out.

Xiulan scooped up both pills with practiced care. After rubbing them a little with a soft cloth to check for imperfections, she tucked one securely in an inner pocket. The remaining pill sat heavy in her palm, nearly as large as Jin Wei’s standard medicines.

Unfortunately, there was no way to make this specific pill any smaller than she had.

Nervous energy buzzed through her limbs as she studied the golden surface. The creation process matched her gaming experience step by step.

She rolled the golden pill between her fingers. The cultivation process flashed through her mind—take the pill, open meridians, expel toxins. In Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , those three steps launched characters into the first stage of body refinement.

It turned them from a forgettable and expendable NPC into a player directable character.

The pill’s perfection offered her only reassurance. In the game, silver-grade pills killed characters regularly—most players shrugged off those deaths as minor setbacks. There were always more mortal recruits to pick from.

But golden pills guaranteed survival, even if the process turned horrific.

She could only hope that reality followed the same principle, because she really didn’t have a very good idea of how the meridian opening would work. Something about dantian, meridians, and… ugh.

She wished her lie about having a secret benefactor was true.

A bead of sweat rolled down Xiulan’s temple. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at the pill.

No other option presented itself.

The soft power she wielded had failed to protect Mei Chen.

She settled onto the stone courtyard floor, crossing her legs into a meditation pose. The morning breeze rustled the branches overhead as she steadied her breathing.

The pill felt heavy on her tongue as she placed it there. With a quick motion, Xiulan gulped.

The pill settled like molten lead in her stomach. Heat radiated outward immediately, spreading through her core in unexpected waves. Every muscle tensed with an instinctive need to remain motionless. Don’t move. Something’s happening.

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Energy exploded through her body without warning. White-hot power surged along unfamiliar pathways, setting every nerve ending ablaze.

Xiulan pressed both palms against her stomach, teeth clenched against the overwhelming sensation. The force threatened to tear her apart.

Every breath burned. She forced herself to inhale deeply, desperately seeking any relief from the crushing pressure. The rhythmic breathing seemed to direct the chaotic energy—not much, but enough to notice.

She maintained the pattern, focusing on each inhale and exhale.

Something shifted deep inside her with the next breath. Energy responded, drawing inward like water flowing downstream. She struggled to control the flow, keeping her breathing as steady as possible despite the strange sensations.

Intense warmth pooled in her lower abdomen. Xiulan directed all her focus there. The heat intensified, the pressure building rapidly.

It felt like she was going to explode until she finally tried to bear down on the chunk of molten fire that had turned into her dantian.

She struggled to maintain her breathing, but each breath pushed the burning energy outward, searching for release. It seemed like that was something she needed, so she gritted her teeth, focusing on directing that scorching force away from her center.

The sensation resembled trying to push water through clogged tubes—except the water burned and the tubes existed somewhere between reality and imagination.

Sweat dripped down her temples as she forced the energy further with each exhale. The burning spread, branching out in ways she couldn’t quite map. She pushed harder, willing the power to extend beyond its current boundaries. Her muscles trembled with the effort, but she maintained the steady rhythm of her breathing.

The energy slammed into an invisible wall. Pressure built at the blockage point, creating an intense focal point of discomfort just below her right shoulder. Xiulan clenched her jaw, frustration mounting as the energy refused to advance. She increased the force behind her efforts, rage building at the unseen obstacle. Why wouldn’t things just work??

The energy churned against the barrier, growing more volatile. Xiulan drew a deep breath and stilled her thoughts.

She closed her eyes, shifting attention inward to study the sensations coursing through her body. The energy responded to her focus, becoming more distinct—less like formless heat and more like distinct streams flowing through specific paths.

Maybe like circuit boards in a computer? The mental image helped.

She pictured glowing threads running through her body, creating intricate patterns of connection. She stopped forcing the energy and instead guided it along the imagined pathways. The burning sensation eased slightly as she worked with the flow rather than against it.

The pressure built against the blockage until something shifted with a distinct pop.

Energy surged through the newly opened pathway like water breaking through a dam. Relief flooded through her body as warmth spread outward from the breakthrough point. The sensation resembled unlocking an achievement in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , but a thousand times more intense and real.

Each deep breath drew more energy through the cleared meridian. Xiulan maintained the steady rhythm despite her trembling muscles. Sweat soaked through her robes as she fought to control the flow. The morning air felt cool against her burning skin.

The process demanded her complete focus. She guided the energy toward the next blocked point, probing for weakness. The obstruction felt solid, unyielding. She pushed harder, remembering how the first breakthrough yielded to persistent pressure. The energy swirled and built against the new barrier.

A second pop reverberated through her body. The rush of power nearly knocked her from her meditation pose. She steadied herself, forcing her breathing to remain even as energy flooded the newly opened pathway. The sensation intensified—like lightning contained within her flesh.

The two cleared meridians pulsed with each breath. Xiulan directed the flow between them, learning to control the strange new force. Her muscles ached from maintaining stillness, but she dared not move. Not yet. She was only half done.

She steadied her breathing as the initial surge of power settled into a manageable flow, looping between the first two meridians.

The overwhelming heat diminished, replaced by an odd tingling sensation that spread through her limbs. Pins and needles prickled beneath her skin, reminiscent of a limb falling asleep—but stronger, more persistent. The discomfort nagged at her concentration.

Focus. This means it’s working. The tingling intensified as she pushed power toward her extremities. Each successful connection to the smaller pools sparked a small burst of warmth, adding strength to her previously dormant channels.

A meridian in her left arm opened with a subtle pop. The sensation repeated in her right arm moments later. Warmth spread down her legs as additional pathways cleared, each breakthrough adding to the building pressure in her core.

Heat bloomed across her chest, bringing an uncomfortable itch that demanded attention. Xiulan maintained her meditation pose despite the urge to scratch. The sensation spread outward from her sternum. No turning back now.

A sticky film formed on her skin as perspiration beaded up and rolled down her temples. The liquid felt thicker than normal sweat, carrying an acrid smell that made her nose wrinkle. But as the foul-smelling substance seeped from her pores, a curious lightness spread through her body. Each breath came easier, cleaner somehow, as if clearing years of accumulated dust from her lungs.

There were still more meridians to clear, though. She could feel that clearly where pools of energy didn’t flow correctly. She focused on them and not on the black sweat.

A blockage in her left leg yielded first. The breakthrough sent tingles racing down to her toes. Her right leg followed, opening with a sharp crack that made her muscles twitch.

Another obstruction refused to budge near her spine. Xiulan gathered more energy, forcing it against the stubborn point. The pressure built until her teeth ached. Still nothing. She doubled down, channeling everything she could muster into breaking through.

The resistance held firm. Frustration mounted as she hit the same wall repeatedly. Think. There must be a way. Her shoulders trembled.

Deep breaths helped steady her racing thoughts. The rhythm of inhale and exhale created a pattern—like waves washing against a shore. Energy responded to the natural cycle, flowing more smoothly with each controlled breath.

Xiulan matched her power to the rhythm. Push with the exhale, gather with the inhale. The method felt right somehow, more controlled than brute force. The blockage in her spine opened all at once, sending a rush of energy upward to her head, only to slam into an even tighter block at the base of her skull.

The energy rebounded dramatically and then…

The breakthrough hit without warning.

Pure power exploded through the opening as it suddenly had a full loop to flow through. Instead of pooling, it ran like a river. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids as she fought to contain the surge. Each breath came in desperate gasps while she struggled to regulate the overwhelming force.

The chaotic energy shifted—transformed into something crystalline and pure. The struggle against resistance melted away, replaced by smooth, controlled flows that responded to her slightest intention.

Xiulan directed the purified energy inward, following an instinctive pull toward her core. The power spiraled down into her dantian like water finding its natural level. Heat pooled there, steady and controlled rather than the earlier volcanic surge.

An instinct prodded at her consciousness—she was filthy. On the inside.

Xiulan spread the energy outward in a wave, sweeping through her system like an internal cleansing tide. More of the thick, acrid sweat beaded on her skin, this time in large, thick sheets. The foul substance was made up of the waste her body couldn’t rid itself of, the toxins from the medicine pills she had taken… all of it had built up over years.

A second wave pushed out more of the impurities, leaving her tissues cleaner and more receptive to her will.

She turned it into another cycle.

More and more filth flushed out of her, more than seemed possible. Was it possible to shrivel up into a dehydrated husk?

Keep breathing. This has to pass eventually. The sensation grew until her skin crawled with revulsion. Xiulan maintained her meditation pose despite the overwhelming urge to claw at her arms and face.

The putrid smell hit her nose next—a mix of rancid meat and chemical waste that made her stomach turn. The substance rolled down, collecting in dark pools on the stone beneath her. Xiulan clenched her jaw against the urge to gag.

Deep breaths seemed to speed up the process. She drew air into her lungs with deliberate force, pushing it out in sharp exhales. More of the black substance flowed with each breath cycle. The acrid stench grew stronger as pools of the toxin spread around her.

Her body grew lighter. A strange clarity sharpened her senses—sounds grew crisper, scents more distinct. Even the morning light seemed brighter through her closed eyelids. The changes felt alien, yet somehow right.

The force inside her flowed smooth and cool now, like fresh spring water.

Strength flooded her limbs. The exhaustion from the initial breakthrough melted away. Cherry blossom scents drifted stronger on the morning breeze.

Xiulan directed her attention inward, probing the energy pathways with careful focus. Smaller channels branched off from the main meridians—tiny tributaries she’d missed before. A subtle blockage restricted flow through one near her shoulder. She gathered power and pressed against it.

The minor obstruction yielded with a soft pop. Energy rushed through the newly opened pathway, spreading warmth through previously dormant tissue. Xiulan traced more of the smaller channels, breaking through each resistance point methodically. Every breakthrough strengthened the overall flow, like clearing debris from a running stream.

Black fluid continued seeping from her pores, but thinner now, more watery than tar. The acrid smell faded as the already expelled filth thickened into a tar.

The transformation settled into her bones. Her body felt lighter yet more solid—like steel replacing iron. Raw physical power thrummed through her tissues.

This was only the first step on a long path, but Xiulan recognized the milestone for what it represented. She had crossed the threshold into true cultivation. Thanks, ridiculous gold pill.

Xiulan pushed against the ground, rising on shaky legs. Her ruined silk robes clung to her skin, saturated with viscous black gunk.

I should have stripped first. The thought came too late as she peeled off the destroyed garments. The fabric squelched, releasing fresh waves of putrid odor. Dark stains had seeped deep into the fibers, permanently marking them.

They’d need to burn it or something.

The morning air prickled against her bare skin. She snatched a clean cloth from nearby and scraped at the residue coating her arms and torso.

The black substance smeared rather than wiped away, reminding her of the rotten flesh coated scarecrow that had appeared in the main hall. She scrubbed harder, desperate to remove every trace.

"Miss Lin!" A servant’s startled cry echoed from the residence.

Xiulan ignored the outburst and turned to sprint through the residence and to the bathhouse. Her feet left dark prints on the path. The need to cleanse the filth from her skin overwhelmed any concern for modesty.