The Transmigrator’s Cultivation

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Translator: Lynn

Xu Ziqing’s fingers brushed the tree’s surface, and in an instant, a potent force surged through his fingertips, directly assaulting his mind like a tempest, causing his mental landscape to erupt in tumultuous waves.

A maelstrom of emotions fragmented and surged, carrying torrents of resentment, malevolence, violence, and savagery—a deluge of intense negativities. These emotions rapidly inundated Xu Ziqing’s entire mental domain like a sweeping tide.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by an excruciating headache, as if the overwhelming resentment sought to rend his brain apart, and his spiritual consciousness teetered on the precipice of collapse, like a flickering candle threatened by a gale.

Impossible!

To succumb to these emotions would render him a mere imbecile, or worse, possessed by malevolent spirits and devolving into a demonic being.

With his hands clutching his head, a fierce battle played out across Xu Ziqing’s countenance. Although it appeared he teetered on the edge of defeat, his luck had not completely abandoned him. In the next moment, his dantian too churned with restlessness.

A dormant seed nestled deep within his dantian began to stir, accompanied by a faintly perplexing notion.

“Mother, mother, it smells so delicious!”

“Mother, eat… eat…”

The thoughts emerged from Rongjin, who had long lain dormant within Xu Ziqing’s consciousness.

These thoughts bore an avaricious and rapacious quality, as if driven by a primal instinct. Rongjin seemed to have lost its clarity, manipulated by an intrinsic urge.

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With his last vestiges of lucidity, Xu Ziqing tasted the bitterness flooding his mouth.

Alas, the misfortune was compounded by his fingers coming into contact with blood. This not only subjected him to the onslaught of resentment but also triggered Rongjin’s detection of the lingering scent of monks’ blood coating the giant tree over the years.

Given that the heads hanging from the tree were those of six yang cultivators, their blood naturally carried great vitality, a quality that enticed Rongjin. Starving and undernourished, Rongjin had not tasted blood for many days, making this an unfortunate vulnerability on Xu Ziqing’s part.

Thus ensnared by both the onslaught of resentment and Rongjin’s invasive thoughts, Xu Ziqing found himself trapped in a perilous crossfire, caught between two dire threats.

Should this onslaught persist, his life would be imperiled. His situation was dire, and he needed to act promptly to save himself.

With an awkward posture, Xu Ziqing lowered himself to a seated position, though he wasn’t certain if he managed a cross-legged stance amid his haze of turmoil. Nonetheless, he strained to summon the “Ten Thousand Woods Great Heart Planting Technique” to mind repeatedly, diligently following its instructions to circulate his true essence.

The formidable aura of Sixing Peak cascaded down in torrents as Xu Ziqing, with unyielding determination, guided it from the crown of his head. He paid little heed to the potential strain, focusing solely on channeling this energy to bolster his mental fortitude.

The primary goal was to quell Rongjin’s surging influence. If Rongjin could be subdued, it might assist in counteracting the barrage of resentment.

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The mounting agony within his dantian intensified, and the spiritual energy incessantly transmuted into true essence, which gradually amassed within this inner reservoir. As it brimmed to capacity, the surplus true essence surged through his limbs and bones, inciting a propensity for rupturing across numerous meridians.

Eventually, the true essence engaged in a frenzied collision, causing the meridians to fissure, threatening to rupture completely.

Fortunately, Xu Ziqing’s wood-based constitution was inherently aligned with nature. Having once absorbed Ethereal Wood essence, a primeval treasure of earth and wood, he hadn’t fully assimilated its entirety. Now, the Ethereal Wood energy latent within his blood surged into action. Whenever the meridians splintered, they were instantaneously mended. The cycle continued—a ceaseless pattern of damage and repair. Gradually, the meridians grew more resilient and robust, enduring this relentless ordeal.

However, there came a point where true essence could no longer mend these meridians. In response, Xu Ziqing sought an alternative. He located a space to contain the excess true essence, and once again directed it back into his dantian.

Yet, the dantian’s capacity proved inadequate. To accommodate the influx, he had to compress the energy as tightly as possible.

When a monk advanced to the foundation-building stage, their meridians underwent an expansion and strengthening to withstand the force of true essence. Following that, the monk would condense this true essence within the dantian into a dense liquid, the essence liquid. The formation of the first droplet of essence liquid marked the transition to the middle stage of the foundation building.

This was an intricate, lengthy process, fraught with its own perils.

As Xu Ziqing compressed his true energy, he not only had to carefully gauge the meridians’ endurance but also grapple with the inherently unruly nature of true energy. Taming it required considerable effort.

However, circumstances dictated that Xu Ziqing, in his attempt to quell Rongjin’s influence, had little choice but to exert his exercises forcefully, thus accelerating the accumulation of true energy. Consequently, what should have been a protracted procedure had to be compressed into a brief timeframe.

Had he not possessed a single wood spirit root and thus avoided the complexity of multiple elemental attributes… Had it not been for the substantial Ethereal Wood essence stored within his bloodstream… It was likely that the sheer volume of true essence alone would have led to his explosive demise.

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Within his dantian, true essence continued to amass, its compression growing ever denser.

Then, a resounding explosion reverberated within his inner world!

This signaled the true essence’s near-convergence, each component on the verge of compressing into the other.

Roused by the detonation, Rongjin’s voice emerged from the haze, “Mother?”

Despite his agony, Xu Ziqing struggled to communicate with him, yet his pain-wracked body and the encroaching resentment left him unable to utter a sound.

What could he do?

As Xu Ziqing remained unresponsive, Rongjin’s agitation heightened, “Mother, mother!”

Still greeted with silence, he unleashed a surge of power as if striving to extend his metaphysical tendrils upwards, from the meridians to the expanse of consciousness. However, if he succeeded, the fragile Sea of Consciousness would undoubtedly face severe jeopardy. In that instant, Xu Ziqing’s desperation deepened.

Yet, from the pinnacle of his head, a chilling coolness diffused, alleviating much of his torment in an instant.

This refreshing chill also bestowed clarity upon Xu Ziqing’s distressed mind.

Overjoyed, Xu Ziqing recognized the bamboo hairpin provided by his senior brother! Evidently, in moments of unruly turmoil, it offered a remedy, a truly remarkable artifact. Although there was no time to voice his gratitude to Yun Lie internally, Xu Ziqing seized the chance to refocus his efforts and extend solace to Rongjin.

Rongjin, teetering on the brink of madness, found solace and seemingly returned to a state of equilibrium, retreating into the recesses of his dantian.

With a relieved exhale, Xu Ziqing resumed his absorption of spiritual energy, intently amassing and condensing his true energy. He’d discerned that amidst the previous upheaval, his body had reached a pivotal juncture for breaking through into the foundation-building stage.

Abandoning his efforts now would undoubtedly expose him to the backlash of true essence, leaving him severely wounded and dazed. This would be an opportune moment for the multitude of resentments in his sea of consciousness to take advantage of his vulnerability. Thus, he could only wager everything on this single endeavor, striving to break through into the mid-stage of the foundation establishment.

This breakthrough would further fortify his spiritual consciousness, offering enhanced confidence in facing down the swarming resentments.

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Thus, it boiled down to a “do or die” scenario.

Xu Ziqing’s determination surged, mouth agape as he consumed spiritual energy with increasing voracity. His maw widened slightly, continuously ingesting spiritual energy, every pore on his body flung open, welcoming in the concentrated influx. This heightened spiritual density was several times greater than before, thus accelerating the accumulation of true energy within him.

Within his mind, a cacophony of resentful thoughts clashed. Xu Ziqing bellowed softly, “Rongjin, envelop them!”

A resolute impulse emanated from his dantian, laced with a potent taint of bloodlust, and in a flash, surged into the sea of consciousness!

In the blink of an eye, Rongjin’s bloodthirsty inclinations intermingled with the monks’ amassed resentment resulting from torture, swiftly intertwining with each other.

Observing Rongjin’s committed efforts, Xu Ziqing felt a semblance of relief. He harnessed the bamboo hairpin’s cooling effect to maintain mental clarity and skillfully directed the unending surge of true energy to compress rapidly.

Though Rongjin was still in a budding sentience stage, he remained an ancient beast at heart, his lineage carrying a boundless legacy of memories. While the monks’ resentment ran deep, it ultimately paled in comparison. Rongjin had the upper hand.

Simultaneously, the true essence inside Xu Ziqing’s dantian reached an incompressible point.

“Pop, pop!”

A series of consecutive detonations followed, marking the culmination of true essence compression!

At this moment, a droplet of liquid lingered within his inner world’s dantian. Exceptionally viscous, it no longer retained its crystalline clarity; instead, it exuded a faint silver hue, reminiscent of liquid mercury, denser and more concentrated than true essence.

Emerging from the prior agonizing process, Xu Ziqing had narrowly escaped death and achieved a breakthrough!

He now stood as a monk in the middle stage of foundation establishment, his physique pulsating with strength. Compared to the early stages of the foundation establishment, his power surged more potently, and his resilience more indomitable. Yet Xu Ziqing didn’t pause, shifting his focus back to the sea of consciousness.

There, through a swift scan of divine awareness, he discerned the rival forces at play.

One radiated scarlet, pureness that resonated with him, a sense of intimacy; the other draped in gray, a hint of spectral essence, the embodiment of lingering resentment.

Without hesitation, Xu Ziqing aligned with the scarlet force. Collaborating with Rongjin, they launched an onslaught against the gray influence. Rongjin, already in control, merged affectionately with the newcomer’s intent. Xu Ziqing sensed the surge of elation in this unified consciousness, elevating his mood. This boost in confidence facilitated the complete eradication of the gray power in a single stroke!

Soon, through the combined efforts of Xu Ziqing and Rongjin, the sea of consciousness was purged of all traces of resentment. Rongjin’s consciousness tenderly encircled Xu Ziqing’s own, then retracted into its dantian abode.

At this juncture, Xu Ziqing was in prime condition, body, and mind at ease. The ordeal… had finally concluded.

At the base of the giant tree outside the punishment hall on Sixing Peak,

A youth dressed in a verdant robe sat cross-legged, faint beads of sweat dotting his forehead. A subtle gray aura coiled around his fingers, lending a hint of decadence to his appearance.

Two colossal black eagle puppets descended from the heavens, and two dashing young men dressed in ebony leaped from their heights.

The figure on the left wore a stern countenance, towering with a resolute air and a sword’s aura soaring skyward, exuding an air of unwavering determination. The other appeared slighter, his visage youthful and his hair snowy white. Awe-inspiring sword intent emanated from him, yet his eyes and brows held a playful quality, as if mischief lurked at their corners.

Both carried several massive black chains that ensnared several individuals. The white-haired young man with a touch of boyish charm casually glanced over, remarking, “Hey, take a look.” The resolute one beside him then turned his head decisively to survey the scene.

The white-haired youth grinned, his childlike features exuding an air of mischief, “Another fool who meddled with the Buddha Heart Wood. He’s probably experiencing quite the ordeal now.”

The resolute individual interjected, “Those who pass the test will enter the realm.”

The youth’s white brows raised, about to offer a reply.

At that moment, the entrance to the punishment hall swung open.

Emerging from within was a stern man garbed in black. His gaze also landed upon the youth beneath the towering tree.

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