Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

In the early morning, Seireitei was still shrouded in a thin mist.

After Xuan finished practicing the twelve postures of the Yi Jin Jing and completed a set of wooden dummy exercises, he finally hung the Zanpakuto on his waist.

There's no need to go to school today.

The academic year competition is over, and in another month, he will be heading to Yuanzi Academy. During this time, there will be no more lengthy lectures on academic subjects, nor the rigorous practice of swordsmanship—he can freely manage his time and do what he wants.

The first thing he wanted to do was go to the library.

There was no one else in the library in the morning; only the scent of silk scrolls and sandalwood wafted slowly through the air.

Xuan walked to the long table by the window and sat down. Morning light streamed through the high window, casting interplay of light and shadow on the pages of the book.

My goal for this month is to collect books related to the application of spiritual energy, such as "Advanced Spiritual Structures" and "The Principles of Spiritual Energy Projection and Aerial Footwork."

After going to the Yuanzi Academy, he planned to continue developing the Ghost Path in private. However, to truly solidify the Ghost Path, he couldn't rely solely on the incantations and hand gestures from his past life. He needed to know what attempts his predecessors had made in projecting spiritual energy, what pitfalls they had encountered, and what results they had achieved. All of this would be of great benefit to his future development of the Ghost Path.

Xuan opened the book "The Principles of Spiritual Power Projection and Aerial Footwork," which recorded several techniques that predecessors had tried. They were all methods of forming a spiritual power platform as a foothold.

It's very similar to the Quincy's Hiren-kyu, but only Mayuri Kurotsuchi, through his knowledge and technological creation, can use Hiren-kyu. Ordinary Shinigami stop in the air, turn in the air, deflect force, exert force, and use Shunpo simply by forming an immovable spiritual particle platform under their feet with spiritual power, because controlling external spiritual particles is too difficult for Shinigami.

Unlike Quincy, who absorb external spiritual energy to create arrows for attack and control the flow of external spiritual energy as footwork, Shinigami can basically only manipulate the spiritual energy within their bodies.

Combat and footwork both utilize internal spiritual energy, so the Ghost Path naturally operates entirely within the body and cannot be controlled externally. It's like the Ghost Path is code; using the Ghost Path is like printing out the entire code, and then the code moves on its own.

Just then, footsteps came from the stairwell.

Shihōin Sōgen walked up to the second floor, saw Genshō, and was slightly taken aback, then nodded: "So early."

"Chief Instructor." Xuan stood up and bowed.

Zong Yan waved his hand, indicating that he didn't need to be so polite, and walked to another row of bookshelves. After taking down a book, he glanced back at the book Xuan had opened, his gaze lingering for a moment on "The Principles of Spiritual Power Projection and Aerial Footwork".

"Still working so hard in the last month?"

"In the Yuanzi Academy, I am the only one named Sifengyuan, so naturally I dare not slack off." Xuan answered in the direction that the headmaster most wanted to hear: when you are away from home, you represent the family.

Zongyan paused for a moment, then slowly spoke: "The head instructor of the Genji Academy is Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni. His swordsmanship is among the best in Soul Society. You're going there to learn real skills."

Zong Yan said no more, took the book, and turned to leave. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded in the stairwell, and the library fell silent once more.

Xuan looked at the book in front of him, remained silent for a moment, and then continued to read.

The Chief Instructor is right. The techniques of slashing, punching, and walking on ghosts are the basic skills of a Grim Reaper. He won't neglect the others for the sake of the Ghost Path—on the contrary, it is precisely because he knows the potential of the Ghost Path that he needs to master the other three skills to the extreme.

Only with a solid foundation can a taller building be supported.

As evening fell, Xuan closed the book, got up, and left the library.

Instead of returning to his own courtyard, he turned to the east—towards the quiet courtyard surrounded by bamboo fences where he had lived for a thousand years.

The guards at the gate already recognized him and let him through after he was informed.

Qian Ri was sitting on the veranda, a scroll in his hand, his brow furrowed. Seeing Xuan enter, he immediately put down the scroll, a smile spreading across his face: "Oh, the grand competition champion is here? What, not going to the library to study today?"

"Free meals." A concise and to-the-point statement.

Qianri laughed and cursed, then turned and ordered the maid to add another set of bowls and chopsticks.

By the time dinner was served, it was already dark. As Qianri ate, he rambled on about how he'd been scolded by the old man again, and how the old geezer in etiquette class had found fault with him once more. Xuan listened quietly, occasionally responding, but mostly just focusing on finishing his food.

It wasn't until the food was cleared away and tea was served that Qianri's tone became serious.

"Oh, right, there's something I need to remind you of."

Xuan looked up at Qianri.

"Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni," Chihiro put down his teacup, his expression serious, "This man is very strict and also very serious about teaching. His temper is as fiery as his strength. If he goes to Genji Academy and remains diligent, his strength will definitely improve by leaps and bounds."

Also, the Genji Academy isn't just for members of the Shihōin family. Other noble children, as well as some exceptionally talented commoners, study there. You can make many friends there.”

Qianri leaned against a pillar, gazing at the darkening sky, and said:

"You're young now, so you might not realize it yet—sometimes connections are more important than ability. No matter how strong you are, you can't make a living all by yourself. Make more reliable friends, so that when you encounter problems in the future, at least someone will lend a hand."

Xuan nodded.

Qianri went on and on about many other things—Yamamoto Genryusai's past achievements, how to conserve energy during combat exercises, how to send envelopes at Genji Academy... and so on.

As night deepened, Xuan rose to take his leave. As he reached the courtyard gate, he glanced back. Qianri, sitting under the lamp, waved to Xuan, then continued to look down at the scroll of documents he had been criticizing all day.

Xuan pushed open the door and left.

It was nearly midnight when I returned to the courtyard.

Moonlight spilled onto the cherry tree in the courtyard. Half of the branches had long since withered, the bark peeling away to reveal the dry, pale interior; while on the other half, a few late-blooming cherry blossoms were still stubbornly blooming, their pink and white petals trembling gently in the night breeze.

four years ago.

When he first transmigrated, the tree looked just like this. Half withered, half in full bloom. Now, four years later, it remains the same—as if time had stood still for it.

Xuan suddenly realized that if he left the Shihōin family after graduating from the Genji Academy, it would mean that he would hardly have the chance to see this place again.

He closed his eyes, his mind stirring slightly. The process of spiritual reconstruction had become so familiar to him that it was almost instinctive—skeletal extension, muscle reshaping, feathers covering his body. A few breaths later, he transformed into an owl and took flight.

The night wind lifted his wings, carrying him into the sky.

From the air, the Shihōin clan's territory is clearly visible under the moonlight. The sprawling mansions, the staggered eaves, the training grounds, the library, the main house, the side courtyards... every place carries the memories of these four years.

Xuan looked down at his small courtyard—the little house that had once been deserted. Now it sat quietly curled up in a corner, the windows dark, just as it had been four years ago when he had first transmigrated.

Xuanfei passed through Qianri's side courtyard—Qianri was still sitting under the lamplight, having fallen asleep sometime earlier. Her hand was still in the posture of holding a document, but it was now empty.

Xuanfei flew over the training ground—the obsidian ground gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Xuanfei flew past the library—this ancient wooden building stood silently in the night.

For four years, he had been cultivating day and night and had never properly looked at this clan's territory. Now, looking down from the air, he realized how vast and complex it was—with bright lights and dark corners; with warm bonds and cold rules.

However, the road ahead was long, and the war to come meant Xuan couldn't stop. Had Yhwach already unified the Quincy and occupied Northern Europe to recuperate? Xuan didn't know.

On the morning of the day they set off, Xuan woke up before dawn.

He got up and packed his belongings. He didn't have much—a change of clothes, a water bottle, and his Zanpakuto at his waist.

Xuan looked at the wooden dummy standing in the corner of the room. He didn't intend to use it for a long time to practice Shunpo. After all, he had only practiced Shunpo for a few years and was far inferior to the level of Shunshin Yoruichi.

After breakfast, it was already broad daylight. Xuan shouldered his bag and pushed open the door.

The morning light bathed the courtyard in a warm golden hue. The half-withered cherry tree swayed gently in the morning breeze, petals drifting down, a few landing on his shoulder.

As I passed the edge of the noble street, a familiar figure stood on the street corner.

Sifengyuan Thousand Days.

He was dressed in casual clothes, his short, silvery-white hair tinged with a pale gold in the morning light. Upon seeing Empress Xuan, he grinned and waved from afar.

Xuan waved his hand, his steps firm and steady.