Chapter Fifty-Two: Cultivating in the Southern Mountains

"Three hundred and nineteen, three hundred and twenty, three hundred and twenty-one..." Lu Zhe swung a tree branch as thick as a bowl back and forth, hacking and chopping tirelessly.

"I can't take it anymore," he said at last, collapsing onto the ground and tossing aside the four-foot-long log, gasping for air.

"Hmm? Already giving up?" Master Ye, lounging in the shade of a tree, glanced at Lu Zhe with a faint smile.

"Master, I don't understand. Why do you have me swing this thing five hundred times?" Lu Zhe asked between breaths.

Ye held a blade of grass between his lips, hands cradling his head as he lay beneath the leafy canopy. He eyed Lu Zhe calmly. "No particular reason. The spell I'm about to teach you has something to do with this exercise."

Lu Zhe was startled. He looked up at Ye, then hurried over to his side. "Master, what kind of spell are you planning to teach me?"

Ye opened his left eye to peer at him. "Heaven's secrets cannot be revealed," he replied.

With that, he closed his eyes again, ignoring Lu Zhe.

Feeling rebuffed, Lu Zhe turned to leave, but suddenly spun back. "Master, can you at least tell me what level this spell is?"

Ye opened his eyes, looked up at the sky, and said, "Roughly of the Earth-tier, I suppose."

Lu Zhe drew a sharp breath and quickly pressed, "But is it high, middle, or low grade?"

Ye studied him for a while, then finally said, "Probably low grade."

"Bah," Lu Zhe scoffed at the answer.

With a sharp smack, Ye rapped Lu Zhe on the back of the head and scolded, "What do you know? An Earth-tier low-grade spell is far superior to any Heaven-tier high-grade spell. Every master knows a few Heaven-tier high-grade techniques, but when true experts duel, victory is determined by Earth-tier techniques. Understand?"

Clutching the back of his head, Lu Zhe mumbled an "oh," then went back to his practice spot, hefted the heavy log, and resumed swinging.

This time, he managed another two hundred swings, only stopping at dusk, so exhausted that he couldn't straighten his back.

"Ahh!" Lu Zhe lay sprawled on a rock, bare-chested, yelling into the evening air. Though November had already turned chilly, he still rested shirtless on the cold stone.

Ye straddled Lu Zhe, kneading, pinching, grasping, rubbing, and pounding his waist and back as if giving him a massage.

Ye pressed and kneaded Lu Zhe's back, occasionally digging his thumbs into Lu Zhe's waist and abdomen, kneading in slow circles.

"Ah, Master, gentler, please!" Lu Zhe screamed like a slaughtered pig, begging Ye to ease up.

Ye looked at him helplessly. "You act as if you've been scalded by boiling water. I'm barely using any strength and you’re making a racket."

With that, he balled his hands into fists and pounded Lu Zhe's back, making him cry out for his mother.

Pounding away, Ye suddenly noticed Lu Zhe had fallen silent. Glancing down, he found that Lu Zhe had fallen fast asleep.

Looking at the peaceful face, Ye let out a wry smile, picked up Lu Zhe's clothes, draped them over him, then sat down in the shade and closed his eyes for a nap.

Night crept across the sky unnoticed, flowing by in silence. A ray of sunlight from the newborn sun streaked across the endless plains, bringing vitality and energy to the land.

Suddenly, Ye, still half-asleep, heard the sound of grunting. Opening his eyes, he saw Lu Zhe already up and training.

Shirtless, Lu Zhe swung the thick tree branch back and forth, sweat as large as beans rolling down his forehead—some running down his body, some flung away with the movement. The morning light reflected off his sweat-soaked torso.

Ye rose from beneath the tree and walked over to him. "How many swings so far?"

Lu Zhe didn’t turn, continuing to swing as he replied, "Three hundred."

Ye nodded silently, turned, and went back to sit cross-legged in the shade, watching Lu Zhe's relentless practice.

As he watched, Ye felt a flicker of surprise. "Yesterday this boy could barely manage three hundred, but today he’s already reached four hundred. Truly no ordinary talent."

Time slipped by quietly. Lu Zhe swung the log for over an hour before finally stopping, sitting down cross-legged to meditate.

As he deepened his cultivation, wisps of white vapor rose from his body. The spiritual energy swirling around him was drawn rapidly into his body, where it was transformed into spiritual power.

As he felt the flow of energy entering him, Lu Zhe’s taut muscles slowly relaxed.

His core, depleted by the earlier exertion, was nearly empty of spiritual power. Even after half an hour of meditation, he had only managed to recover a little more than half—evidence of the enormous energy he’d spent.

After about an hour in meditation, Lu Zhe finally let out a long breath and opened his eyes.

He stood, stretched his limbs, picked up his clothes from the ground, and looked up. Not far away, Ye was also sitting cross-legged in meditation. Lu Zhe wandered over, intending to fetch some water from the stream behind Ye, but as he approached within ten paces, he suddenly sensed a powerful current of spiritual energy swirling around his master. Drawing on his own sensitivity to the world’s energy, Lu Zhe realized that the intensity of this flow was on an entirely different level from his own—utterly incomparable.

Standing still, he even felt as if this enormous current might pull him in, so he quickly retreated, escaping the range of Ye’s absorption.

Ye was sitting cross-legged, hands forming a complex seal, as streams of spiritual energy from all directions converged above his head, forming a massive vortex nearly sixteen feet wide and three feet high. The vortex spun ceaselessly above Ye, channeling a torrent of energy down into his body.

"What level must one reach to achieve such a feat?" Lu Zhe whispered in awe.

Suddenly, Ye opened his eyes. A sharp glint flashed within them, and a wave of overwhelming force burst from his body, surging outward for miles. Birds scattered in fright, and the nearest trees to Ye were snapped in half by the sheer pressure.

With a slow exhale, Ye rose and shook out his robe.

Lu Zhe, knocked flat by the surge, only climbed to his feet after the force had dissipated, brushing off the grass as he approached his master and looked him over.

Ye regarded him with a faint smile. "It's been a long time since I cultivated like that. With nothing else to do today, I thought I’d indulge myself."

Lu Zhe stared at him, stunned. Ye looked back and said, "You must be wondering what level I truly am."

Lu Zhe nodded.

Ye laughed heartily and waved him off. "That’s not something you need to know now. When the time comes, you’ll naturally find out."

Lu Zhe nodded silently, understanding there were things he should and should not ask. Since Ye had said so, he knew better than to press further.