A max-level player in Jade Dynasty: Awakening the Innate Dao at the start.

"Our Great Bamboo Peak has fewer people, so it's not as lively as the other peaks."

Tian was difficult to speak; each word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"But now that we've entered, we're people of Dazhu Peak."

Rules and regulations, training exercises—none of them can be omitted. As for aptitude…”

He paused for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"If you're not as naturally gifted, you just need to put in more hard work."

He said it so quickly, as if he wanted to shake off some unpleasant thought as soon as possible.

"For those who cultivate the Tao, their character is more important than their physical constitution."

"Diligence can make up for lack of talent; remember these four words."

Zhang Xiaofan lowered his head: "Disciple has remembered."

Of course he knew what Tian Buyi was thinking at that moment—

That bastard Cangsong threw a piece of junk at me, and the sect leader even nodded in approval. Where do I put my face as the head of Dazhu Peak?

But the tragedy in Caomiao Village was still there, and the two children were left helpless and alone.

If Qingyun Sect can't even tolerate this, what kind of leader of the righteous path is it?

So he accepted the cup of tea.

It wasn't that I wanted to accept it, but that I had no choice but to.

That meager pity was suppressed by immense disappointment, sinking deep into the depths of his eyes like a stone at the bottom of a pool.

"It's my turn."

A gentle female voice rang out.

Su Ru had stood up at some point and walked up to Zhang Xiaofan.

She was a head shorter than Tian Buyi, but her back was ramrod straight, and her plain white dress was spotless.

A jade hairpin was inserted into her hair bun, the head of which was carved into the shape of a bamboo leaf, warm and translucent.

Zhang Xiaofan accepted the second cup of tea from Song Daren.

The tea was warm, and the white porcelain cup burned my fingertips.

He held up both hands and said, "Disciple Zhang Xiaofan greets Master's wife."

Su Ru took the tea but didn't drink it immediately.

She gently skimmed off the foam with the cup lid, a movement as elegant as playing a zither.

The steaming heat blurred half of her face.

Those eyes looked over through the mist, gentle yet with a clarity that could see right through you.

"Do you still have any relatives at home?" she asked.

Zhang Xiaofan shook his head.

Su Ru remained silent for a while.

Suddenly the wind outside the hall picked up, and the sound of the bamboo forest rushed in, creating a loud, rustling sound.

She brought the teacup to her lips and took a small sip.

Then he bent down and reached out to help Zhang Xiaofan up.

Those hands were warm and dry, and the force was just right, pulling him up from the ground.

"From now on, Dazhufeng will be your home."

Su Ru's voice was soft, but every word reached my ears.

"If you have any questions about your spiritual practice, ask your senior brother or any of your fellow disciples."

If you need anything in your life, just tell me.

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the few male disciples in the hall who were making faces at each other.

"Anyone who dares to bully the new junior brother..."

The words were left unsaid, but everyone understood the meaning.

Standing at the very edge, Du Bishu shrank back and muttered softly, "Master's wife, how could we dare..."

"You don't dare?"

Su Ru glanced at him sideways. "Who stole Fourth Brother's training clothes last month to use as a table leg?"

A few suppressed chuckles echoed through the hall.

The atmosphere immediately relaxed a bit.

Like a taut string being gently plucked, it vibrated out a lively lingering sound.

"Hey, newbie!"

The red figure darted in front of Zhang Xiaofan in a flash.

Tian Ling'er stood with her hands behind her back, on tiptoe, and her chin held high.

She was half a head shorter than Zhang Xiaofan, but her imposing presence was enough to make him look like he was two zhang tall.

With a flick of her wrist, the ponytail swept across Zhang Xiaofan's nose.

It carries a faint, sweet fragrance, like that of newly opened gardenias.

"Call me senior sister." Her eyes sparkled, filled with the undisguised pride of a twelve-year-old girl.

"I started learning the profession five years earlier than you, so according to the rules, you should call me senior sister."

Zhang Xiaofan opened his mouth: "Master..."

"Speak louder! Haven't you eaten?"

Tian Ling'er frowned, then laughed first, revealing a small, pointed canine tooth.

"Fine, fine. Considering you're new here and a bit clueless, I'll protect you from now on!"

She patted her chest, a gesture that made the red ribbon on her wrist sway slightly—

That was the Amber Crimson Silk, a magical artifact passed down to her by Su Ru.

Among the younger generation of the entire Qingyun Sect, those who possess magical treasures at this age can be counted on one hand.

Song Daren shook his head with a smile:

"Junior Sister, the way you're talking makes it sound like our Great Bamboo Peak is a bandit's den, and we have to 'protect' people from it."

"That's exactly right!"

Tian Ling'er glared at him, "Senior Brother, you don't know, I heard from Senior Sister Wenmin of Xiaozhu Peak that..."

When new disciples enter Dragon Head Peak, the older disciples always give them a hard time!

We, Dazhu Peak, must not follow their example!

"Dragon Head Peak is Dragon Head Peak, and we are us."

Standing behind Song Daren, He Dazhi interjected. He was as thin as a bamboo pole and spoke slowly.

"But what Junior Sister said reminds me—Junior Brother, do you know what realm our Junior Sister is at now?"

Zhang Xiaofan shook his head.

Tian Ling'er's eyes lit up even more, clearly waiting for someone to ask.

He Dazhi held up four fingers and waved them in front of Zhang Xiaofan:

"Jade Purity Realm, Fourth Level".

He paused, then emphasized his words.

"Thirteen years old, fourth level. Looking across the seven branches of the Qingyun Sect, there are no more than three people of this age with this level of cultivation."

Several exaggerated gasps echoed in the hall—a performance by several other senior brothers.

Du Bishu even clutched his chest in astonishment, exclaiming, "A genius! This is true genius!"

Tian Ling'er blushed, but not from shyness; it was from excitement.

She raised her chin, like a proud little peacock.

Zhang Xiaofan then revealed a surprised expression.

He was genuinely a little "surprised"—in the original work, Tian Ling'er's talent was indeed quite good.

But now, seeing this living, breathing, laughing and joking senior sister in person...

The thought that she would die in his arms in the future sent a sudden, sharp pain through his heart.

You must become stronger.

We have to be quick.

"Alright."

The name Su Ru silenced all the noise.

The gentleness on her face receded like the tide, replaced by a cold, almost stern expression.

The change was so sudden; the temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees overnight.

"Let's get down to business." Su Ru's gaze swept over Song Daren's six male disciples.

"Fifth Brother, how many cycles have you completed in the third level of the Taiji Xuanqing Dao mental cultivation method?"

When his name was called, Lü Daxin stammered, "Replying to Master's wife, it's just... just past thirty-six..."

"Thirty-six?" Su Ru asked softly.

"Last month I asked you, and you said twenty-eight."

One month, eight weeks?

Lü Daxin's forehead began to sweat.

"Fourth brother."

Wu Dayi quickly straightened his back.

"How heavy can your sword control technique carry now?" Su Ru asked.

"Three, three hundred catties..."

"Three hundred catties." Su Ru nodded.

"I remember you could carry 280 pounds six months ago."

I gained 20 pounds in six months.

She paused, then turned her gaze to He Dazhi.

"Third brother, tell me, how many years until the next Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament?"

He Dazhi's Adam's apple bobbed: "Five, five years."

"Five years," Su Ru repeated.

She took half a step forward, the hem of her plain white silk skirt remaining perfectly still.

"At the last Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament, Dazhu Peak sent seven people. Four were eliminated in the first round, and two more were eliminated in the second round. The best result was—"

She paused, her voice growing colder, "It's the sixth brother's top sixteen."

Du Bishu lowered his head.

"The round of 16." Su Ru chewed on the word, as if she were chewing on something bitter.

"Tongtian Peak, Longshou Peak, Xiaozhu Peak... which lineage doesn't have three or four members among the top eight?"

"What about our Dazhu Peak? They fight tooth and nail, and if they even make it into the top 16, they're lucky."

The hall was deathly silent.

Even Tian Ling'er stopped smiling and stood to the side, biting her lip.

Tian Buyi was still looking outside the hall, but the lines of his profile were taut as if carved from stone.

"I know you think that Dazhufeng has fewer people and fewer resources, so it can't compare to others."

Su Ru's voice was exceptionally clear in the silence.

"But having fewer people is not an excuse. The techniques are the same, and the time is the same."

Five years from now, I don't want to hear the words "top 16" again.

Her gaze finally landed on Zhang Xiaofan and lingered for a moment.

"According to the rules, new disciples spend the first three months familiarizing themselves with the sect's rules and honing their skills."

Su Ru said, "Da Ren, take Xiao Fan to the back mountain and explain everything that needs to be explained. As for you—"

Her gaze swept over the six male disciples.

"Tomorrow at dawn, in front of the Shoujing Hall, I will personally test your cultivation."

"Which of these energy channels is not functioning smoothly, which of these sword-wielding techniques has deviated by even half an inch—you should weigh the consequences yourself."

After speaking, she turned around, her skirt tracing a clean arc.

She walked over and sat down next to Tian Buyi, no longer looking at anyone else.

The air seemed to freeze for about ten breaths.

"Ahem." Song Daren coughed lightly and grabbed Zhang Xiaofan's arm.

"Well, Master and Mistress, I'll take my junior brother to settle in first, and also explain the sect rules..."

He spoke rapidly, and his feet had already begun to move outwards.

Tian Buyi waved his hand, as if shooing away flies.

Song Daren felt as if he had been granted a pardon and grabbed Zhang Xiaofan, heading out.

Tian Ling'er's eyes darted around, and she followed along, crouching low.

The remaining five senior brothers looked at each other, their faces more distressed than the last.

After walking more than ten feet away from Shoujing Hall, Song Daren finally let go of his grip and exhaled a long breath.

"That scared me to death..." He wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead.

"When Master's wife puts on this kind of act, it's never a good thing."

Tian Ling'er caught up from behind, patting her chest:

"Exactly! Every time Mother says she's going to test our cultivation, Third Senior Brother loses at least five pounds!"

Zhang Xiaofan turned around and glanced at Shoujing Hall.

The bamboo door was half-closed, and the inside was dimly lit. Tian Buyi and Su Ru could be vaguely seen sitting there, like two silent statues.

The mountain wind swept through the hall, making a low "whooshing" sound.

"Is your wife always this strict?" he asked.

"They're not usually like this." Song Daren shook his head and led them towards the back of the mountain.

"My master's wife is actually quite gentle, it's just... it's just that every time the Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament is mentioned, she..."

He pondered his choice of words, "It's like he's become a completely different person."

Tian Ling'er pouted:

"It's all because Dad is so strong-willed."

Every time the Seven Peaks Martial Arts Tournament ended badly, Dad would be depressed for days afterward and would eat less.

My mother felt sorry for us, but she couldn't say anything, so she could only watch us practice our skills relentlessly.

The path in the bamboo forest winds its way uphill, becoming deeper and deeper into the forest.

The black bamboo on both sides are crowded together, and the bamboo stalks are frighteningly thick, with the thinnest ones being as thick as a bowl.

The bamboo skin is not the usual emerald green, but a deep, dark green, as if it has been soaked in thick ink and then dried.

Sunlight filtered through the bamboo leaves, scattering on the ground in coin-sized patches of light that swayed in the breeze.

There was a peculiar smell in the air—the fresh scent of bamboo leaves mixed with the dampness of the earth, and something else...

The hardwood, after being thoroughly dried in the sun, emits a rusty, metallic smell.

"arrive."

Song Daren stopped. In front of him was a relatively open slope, with many broken bamboo stakes scattered on the ground.

The pile surface was flat and smooth, with an unusually smooth cut, not like it was chopped by an axe, but rather like it was sliced ​​off by some sharp blade.

"New disciples don't need to do anything else for the first three months."

Song Daren pointed to those black-jointed bamboos,

"Come here every day at Chenshi (7-9 AM) and cut a bamboo."

He walked to the nearest bamboo stalk and patted the bamboo pole.

"Bang, bang."

The sound was muffled and solid, not like striking bamboo, but more like striking an iron pillar.

"This is the black-jointed bamboo, a species unique to Dazhufeng."

Song Daren said, "The bamboo skin is as hard as iron, but the bamboo core is particularly flexible."

Ordinary knives and axes won't even leave a white mark when they strike.

They told you to cut bamboo, but they didn't actually need it.

It means that you need to use all your strength while cutting bamboo.

Feel the rhythm of exertion, strengthen your muscles and bones, and incidentally...

He paused for a moment, then added, "It's also to toughen him up."

Zhang Xiaofan approached a bamboo stalk.

The bamboo pole feels cool to the touch, and its surface is covered with fine, dense vertical lines, giving it a texture similar to the cold-rolled texture of some kind of metal.

He tried pinching it with his fingernail, but it didn't even leave a mark.

"With arms this thick, you eat one a day."

Song Daren gestured with his fingers, "Three months later, it will be as thick as my legs."

In another three months, it will grow to this size around the waist.

A year later, if you can cut down a thick, black bamboo stalk by yourself, you'll have passed the first hurdle.

Tian Ling'er stuck out her tongue:

"It took me four whole months to cut down the first one that was as thick as my arm."

This bamboo is really strange; the harder you try, the more violently it bounces back, making your hands and fingers go numb.

Zhang Xiaofan remained silent.

His palm was pressed against the bamboo skin, and the warm current that had been dormant within him since he awakened his innate Dao body suddenly stirred slightly.

It wasn't something he initiated; it was a kind of... resonance.

There is a spirit in this black bamboo.

It's very faint, like a mineral vein buried deep underground, but it definitely exists.

Moreover, the nature of this spiritual energy...

"About the cultivation method."

Song Daren's voice brought him back to reality.

The senior disciple pulled a thin booklet from his pocket. It was blue-covered, thread-bound, and had no words on the cover.

The pages were yellowed and the edges were curled up, clearly indicating that they had been flipped through many times.

"The Taiji Xuanqing Dao is the fundamental law of the Qingyun Sect."

Song Daren handed the booklet to Zhang Xiaofan.

"This is just a handwritten copy, containing only the first two layers of the mental cultivation method."

According to the rules of our Qingyun Sect, new disciples can only study the first two levels before reaching the fourth level of the Jade Purity Realm.

This is an ancestral precept; no one can break it.

Zhang Xiaofan took the booklet.

The paper is rough and has a sandy texture to the touch.

He turned to the first page; the characters were written quite neatly in ink.

But you can tell from the strokes that the person copying it was in a hurry—the ink bled at some of the turns, like dried blood.

"This technique is said to have been comprehended by our Qingyun Sect's founder, Master Qingyunzi, from an unnamed ancient scroll."

Song Daren sat down on a bamboo stake nearby, gesturing for Zhang Xiaofan to sit as well.

"Over the course of thousands of years, generations of masters have continuously refined and perfected it, which is how the current Taiji Xuanqing Dao came to be."

"Our Qingyun Sect has been able to stand firm on the righteous path for a thousand years, and that's what we rely on."

He held up one finger.

"The cultivation technique is divided into three realms. The first realm is the Jade Purity Realm."

Ninety-nine percent of the disciples are stuck at this level for their entire lives.

Reaching the top level of the Jade Purity Realm already makes one a skilled fighter within the sect.

The second finger.

"The second realm is the Shangqing realm."

Reaching this level, one would be considered a top expert in the entire cultivation world.

"Throughout our Qingyun Sect, including all the elders and the head disciple, there are no more than twenty people who have reached this level."

The third finger remained suspended in mid-air, not falling.

"The third realm, the Taiqing Realm."

Song Daren lowered his voice, as if he were talking about something taboo.

"That's a legend. In the past thousand years, only the Qingye Ancestor who revived Qingyun has reached this level."

After him, no one else could figure it out.

Zhang Xiaofan looked down at the booklet in his hand.

Yuqing, Shangqing, Taiqing.

He knew far more than Song Daren claimed.

He knew that in the original story, Dao Xuan Zhenren later entered the Taiqing realm, and that Yun Yilan of Fenxiang Valley had also reached the threshold.

He also knew that his future self—Zhang Xiaofan, who had endured hardships and integrated the five volumes of the Heavenly Book—would eventually reach that height as well.

Now, he possesses an innate Dao body.

The greatest immortal talent in the primordial world.

His palms felt slightly warm.

The ink writing on the booklet blurred for a moment before becoming clear again.

But this time, the words were no longer simple strokes, but flowing—like a stream, like veins, like the breath of some living thing.

He can "see" the trajectory of spiritual energy circulation.

It's not about understanding, it's about intuition.

Just as eagles are born knowing how to ride the air currents, fish are born knowing how to navigate the undercurrents.

This is an almost instinctive perception ability given to him by his innate Dao body.

"Take the manual for now, and study it slowly when you get back to your room tonight."

Song Daren stood up and patted the bamboo leaves that were stuck to the hem of his Taoist robe.

"Let's get used to it today. There's a spare machete over there; go try it out."

Remember, cutting bamboo isn't about brute force; it's about "listening" to the bamboo's strength.

After saying that, he glanced at the sky and said, "I'm going back to prepare for my master's wife's examination tomorrow. Junior sister, will you stay with junior brother?"

Tian Ling'er was squatting on the ground playing with ant holes when she heard this, she looked up and said, "Oh, okay!"

Song Daren is gone.

Only Zhang Xiaofan and Tian Ling'er remained in the bamboo forest.

The wind rustled through the bamboo leaves, the sound as dense as rain.

Birds are calling in the distance, their calls short and clear, each one striking the silence.

Zhang Xiaofan walked to the stone platform where the tools were piled up.

Three machetes were placed on the table, their blades thick and their edges gleaming with a matte bluish-black sheen.

He picked one up and weighed it in his hand. It was heavy, at least twenty pounds.

The handle was worn smooth, and when you gripped it, you could feel the varying depths of fingerprints left by its previous owner over the years.

He walked toward a black bamboo stalk as thick as an arm.

Tian Ling'er skipped over and watched the fun with her arms crossed:

"Put some effort into it! It's normal not to be able to cut through on the first try. It took me more than thirty cuts to make a nick!"

Zhang Xiaofan didn't speak. He steadied himself, gripped the knife with both hands, and raised it above his head.

The movements were so precise, like something out of a textbook.

Then it fell.

It's not "splitting", it's "releasing".

The blade traced an arc, falling naturally like a ripe fruit.

The moment the blade touched the bamboo skin, Zhang Xiaofan's wrist trembled very slightly—not out of tension, but to adjust.

He "heard" the direction of the internal fibers of the bamboo and heard the flow of spiritual energy.

"Snap."

The sound was very soft.

Tian Ling'er was so startled that she wondered if she had misheard.

The machete is embedded deep into the bamboo, penetrating the wood three inches deep.

It doesn't get stuck; it cuts in smoothly, like a hot knife cutting butter.

The bamboo skin did not crack or scatter any debris; there was only a smooth, fine cut, as thin as a hair.

Zhang Xiaofan withdrew his sword.

The bamboo swayed, but didn't fall over.

He reached out and gently pushed the bamboo pole.

"Creak—"

A teeth-grinding snapping sound. The bamboo broke cleanly at the cut, the upper half tilting gently.

With a rustling sound of bamboo leaves rubbing together, it crashed to the ground. The cut surface was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting one's image.

Tian Ling'er's mouth was open, and she couldn't close it for a long time.

She looked at the bamboo on the ground, then at the wood-chopping knife in Zhang Xiaofan's hand, and then at Zhang Xiaofan's face.

His face was expressionless, except for a few fine beads of sweat on his forehead.

It wasn't from being tired, but from the exhaustion caused by that moment of intense mental concentration.

"You..." Tian Ling'er swallowed hard. "You used to chop firewood?"

Zhang Xiaofan shook his head.

"and you……"

"I was lucky," Zhang Xiaofan said.

He put down the wood-chopping knife and wiped his palm on his Taoist robe.

My hand is a little numb, but the skin isn't broken. The feeling of that cut is still lingering in my body—

It's not muscle memory, but a deeper, seemingly innate "Taoist" resonance.

Tian Ling'er stared at him for a while, then suddenly laughed.

"Well done, junior brother!" She slapped Zhang Xiaofan on the back with considerable force.

"You're keeping a low profile! From now on, I'll protect you, and you can help me chop bamboo. It'll be a win-win situation!"

As she spoke, she flipped her wrist.

The red silk ribbon moved without wind, bursting out from her sleeve and swelling in the wind, transforming into a three-zhang-long crimson ribbon.

The ribbon, with its amber-like luster, meandered and swirled in the air like a living red python.

"Come on, let your senior sister show you around the back mountain!"

Tian Ling'er leaped onto the amber crimson ribbon and reached out her hand to Zhang Xiaofan, "Hold on tight, I won't be responsible if you fall!"

Zhang Xiaofan grabbed her hand.

It feels warm to the touch, with a softness unique to young girls.

The next second, the amber-red ribbon shot into the sky, the bamboo forest rapidly shrank beneath its feet, and the sound of the wind filled its ears.

He glanced back at the severed black bamboo on the ground.

The cross-section gleamed with a moist sheen in the sunlight, like a silent eye that had just opened.

The booklet "Taiji Xuanqing Dao" in my hand seemed to be slightly warm.

The cultivation truly began from this moment.