I was a mineral prospector in Chengdu, who transmigrated into the body of a mortal sword immortal.

Li Bai maintained his cross-legged posture, but his breathing was no longer as long and steady as before. His open eyes, bathed in the soft light of the day, reflected the dark outline of the valley's depths. His fingertips unconsciously caressed the cold hilt of the Azure Nether Broken Sword, the blade emitting a steady, slight hum, as if soothing, yet also as if on guard. The faint "thump" was like a pebble thrown into a still lake; the ripples had subsided, but the mark remained on the bottom. He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his gaze returning to the black stone tablet before him. Cultivation could not stop, and time could not be wasted. But with each breath, with each swing of the sword, he had to divert a sliver of his mind, like a taut bowstring, pointing towards that unknown darkness.

He closed his eyes again.

This time, instead of immediately diving into deep breathing exercises, he focused his mind on the breath itself. Air was drawn into his nasal cavity, carrying the unique, complex scent of the valley—a blend of fresh grass and trees, the aroma of damp earth, and a subtle sweetness of flowers and fruits. As the air flowed down his throat, he could clearly "feel" the expansion of his chest cavity and the descent of his diaphragm—a basic understanding of human anatomy from his previous life as a geological engineer. He combined this understanding with the "qi sensation" path described in the "Circulation of Qi Technique" on the stone tablet.

"The lungs govern qi and respiration... Qi sinks to the dantian, like pearls rolling on a plate..."

He silently recited the incantation, imagining that he was inhaling not only air, but also the "spiritual energy" that permeated the surroundings and was several times more concentrated than the outside world. This imagination was not just wishful thinking. As he focused his mind, he seemed to feel a faint, warm, tingling sensation on his skin, as if countless invisible tiny particles were seeping into his body through his pores.

He guided this "feeling" with his mind, slowly tracing the meridian pathways illustrated on the stone tablet. No longer the vague groping of before, but combining modern medicine's rudimentary understanding of blood circulation and nerve conduction pathways, he imagined that intangible "energy channel" as a real, more efficient "high-speed channel." Starting from the dantian, passing through the perineum, ascending along the spine to the Baihui point on the top of the head, then splitting into two paths descending from the face, passing through the chest, and returning to the dantian. One small circulation.

At first, the airflow was still as weak as a thread and moved slowly.

But Li Bai was in no hurry. He discarded all distracting thoughts, including his anxiety for Yang Guifei, his vigilance against the strange noises deep within the secret realm, and even temporarily forgot where he was. His entire mind was immersed in perceiving and guiding this unprecedented "energy cycle" within his body. His breathing became long and rhythmic, and with each inhale and exhale, the rise and fall of his chest gradually synchronized with the flow of air in his mind.

I don't know how much time passed, maybe an hour, maybe half a day.

When Li Bai "awoke" from his deep meditation, the sunlight in the valley was still bright and constant, making it impossible to determine the exact time. However, the sensations in his body were completely different.

The first thing to change is the five senses.

He opened his eyes, and the world seemed to have been washed clean, its clarity breathtaking. He could see the fine veins on the petals of a crimson flower several feet away, and the iridescent light refracted by the almost imperceptible dewdrops clinging to the edges of the leaves. He could even see the incredibly fine dust particles floating in the air, their trails dancing slowly in the soft light.

The sounds his ears could perceive became richer. The distant murmur of the pool was no longer a blurry background noise; he could distinguish the varying degrees of force and speed of the water lapping against stones of different sizes; the rustling, whispering, and splashing sounds of the wind blowing through different types of plants at different heights; he could even hear the faint sound of his own blood flowing through his veins and the steady, powerful thumping of his heart—thump, thump, thump. This made him subconsciously hold his breath again, trying to catch that unusual "thump" from before, but apart from his own heartbeat, the valley was completely silent.

His body felt unusually light and agile. He tried to stand up; his right ankle, which had been slightly sore, now only felt a little uncomfortable and barely affected his strength. With a light leap, he was able to jump nearly as high as a person, landing as lightly as a swallow, barely feeling the impact. He clenched his fist, his knuckles making a slight cracking sound, his strength overflowing, far surpassing that of the frail scholar he had been before.

The most obvious change is in the dantian.

There, the originally thin, drifting airflow, only the thickness of a little finger, had now grown much stronger and more solid, like a gentle yet energetic little snake coiled three inches below his navel, rising and falling gently with his breath. With the slightest thought, this "little snake" could respond quickly, rapidly circulating along the familiar path of the Small Heavenly Circuit, bringing waves of warm comfort wherever it passed, dispelling fatigue and nourishing his limbs and bones.

"This is... the early stage of Qi Condensation?" Li Bai murmured to himself, his voice exceptionally clear in the valley. Comparing his state to the description on the stone tablet, "Guiding Qi into the body, circulating Qi throughout the body, feeling Qi abundant, and the five senses becoming more acute," his current state seemed to correspond to the threshold of the "early stage of Qi Condensation." Although it was only the most basic step on the path of cultivation, the changes it brought were already earth-shattering.

Hunger struck at just the right moment.

Li Bai then realized that he had been cultivating for an unknown amount of time. He walked to the vine bearing purple-jade-like berries and picked a few. The berries were slightly cool to the touch, with smooth skin and an enticing sweet fragrance. He put them in his mouth, and with a gentle bite, the sweet juice burst open instantly, sliding down his throat with a strange coolness. It not only quenched his thirst and hunger, but also sent a faint warm current through his limbs, seemingly aiding in the recovery of his spiritual energy. He ate more than a dozen berries in a row, then walked to the pool and scooped up some clear, sweet spring water to drink deeply.

Having satisfied his basic survival needs, Li Bai's gaze fell upon the broken Qingming sword, which leaned quietly against the stone tablet.

Time to practice swordsmanship.

He picked up the broken sword. The sword seemed lighter than before; he wasn't sure if it was an illusion or due to his increased strength. He walked to the stone tablet and carefully studied the illustrations and annotations of the nine basic sword techniques once more.

"First move, opening stance - Calming the Storm. The intention is stability, with energy sinking to the soles of the feet, the sword pointing towards the center, as immovable as a mountain..."

Li Bai assumed a stance, his feet shoulder-width apart, the broken sword held horizontally in front of his chest. He didn't rush to swing, but first adjusted his breathing, attempting to guide the warm energy from his dantian towards his right arm holding the sword. Initially, it was somewhat sluggish, the energy lingering at his shoulder and elbow. Recalling his past life's understanding of motor nerves and muscle power, he relaxed his shoulders, focusing his mind on "conduction" rather than "propulsion." Gradually, a faint warm current flowed along his meridians into his palm and into the sword hilt.

hum-

The Azure Nether Broken Sword emitted a clearer, soft sound than ever before. The blade seemed to light up slightly, and a small patch of the stubborn rust near the hilt faded away, revealing the dark blue-green base of the blade, as clear as autumn water. Although it was still covered with fine cracks and the jagged break, it now exuded a quiet sharpness.

With a firm resolve, Li Bai began to wield his sword according to the diagram.

Thrust, chop, flick, hang, point, collapse, intercept, wipe, carry.

The nine basic techniques are devoid of any frills, emphasizing precise force, clear trajectory, and coordinated footwork. Li Bai practiced them again and again. At first, his movements were stiff, his footwork chaotic, and the transitions between sword moves awkward; he was merely imitating. But he had enough patience, and even more so, a powerful motivation—with each swing of his sword, he seemed to see Yang Guifei's tearful eyes, the ferocious faces of Liu Han's gang thugs, and the cold dagger pressed against his chest in his past life.

Practice! You must master it!

Sweat soaked through his tattered, dark blue robe, clinging to his skin and leaving a sticky feeling. His arms ached and felt numb, the base of his thumb rubbed red from the rough hilt of his sword. But he ignored it all, mechanically repeating the nine movements over and over again. When he was tired, he would stop and circulate his energy for a few cycles, using the restored spiritual power to relieve muscle fatigue; when he was hungry or thirsty, he would pick berries and drink from springs.

In this secluded valley, where the sun and moon are oblivious and the world is cut off, time seems to lose its meaning. Li Bai's life was simplified to the extreme: cultivation, sword practice, eating, and resting. The black stone tablet was his only mentor, the broken sword of Qingming was his only companion, and the silent valley was his only stage.

His progress is visible to the naked eye.

His swordplay progressed from clumsy to skillful, and from skillful to fluid. His footwork went from unsteady to stable, and from stable to agile. The nine basic sword techniques gradually flowed seamlessly in his hands; though still simple, they now possessed a sense of effortless grace. With each swing, the sound of the sword cutting through the air changed from a sharp, piercing "whoosh" to a increasingly sharp and concise one, faintly carrying a hissing sound like metal rubbing against metal. This was a sign of increased speed and concentrated power.

More importantly, he became increasingly adept at using spiritual energy. Initially, he could barely channel a wisp of spiritual energy into his arm, but later he could control it to explode at the moment of striking, enhancing both speed and power. Although the burst of spiritual energy was extremely weak, far from enough to create extraordinary phenomena like sword energy leaving his body, it greatly increased the power of his sword techniques. A single thrust could easily leave a hole several inches deep in hard mud; a single cleave could snap a thick, dry branch in two with a smooth, clean cut.

The changes in the Azure Nether Broken Sword became increasingly apparent. With Li Bai's continuous nurturing with spiritual energy and frequent use, large patches of rust peeled away, revealing the original blade beneath. It was a deep azure, like distant mountains after rain, or the still water of a deep pool, shimmering with a dark, eerie light under illumination. Although the blade was broken and incomplete, the remaining parts already faintly emitted a chilling glint. The hilt remained cool to the touch, but holding it in his hand felt like a deep, intimate connection, and the sword's hum often changed with Li Bai's emotions and spiritual energy fluctuations, as if it had acquired a simple sentience.

On this day, Li Bai practiced his sword as usual on the open ground by the pool.

He practiced the nine basic sword techniques from beginning to end, not quickly, but striving for precision in each move. His spiritual energy flowed with the sword strikes, restrained yet powerful. After finishing, he sheathed his sword, slightly out of breath, his gaze involuntarily drawn to a half-person-high, dark blue boulder by the pool. The boulder was hard, smooth, and perpetually damp with moisture, covered in slippery moss.

An idea popped into my head without warning.

He walked to the boulder, stretched out his left hand, and gently stroked its cool, slippery surface. It was hard and solid. With his current strength, without tools, it would be difficult to damage it with his bare hands.

What if... more spiritual energy was poured into the sword, more concentratedly, and then used to slash?

Once the idea took hold, it was impossible to suppress. He knew that the basic sword techniques on the stone tablet did not have such application descriptions; it was more like an instinctive exploration and curiosity about his newly acquired power.

He stepped back a few paces, gripping the hilt of the Azure Nether Broken Sword with both hands. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all distractions, leaving only one simple thought: Cut it down!

Within his dantian, the already robust warm energy was rapidly mobilized. Unlike when he practiced swordsmanship, it was no longer evenly distributed across his arm. Instead, it was highly compressed and condensed, surging along specific meridians like a floodgate opening, rushing towards his right hand and pouring into the Azure Nether Broken Sword.

Om-! ! !

The broken sword emitted an unprecedentedly clear and resonant cry, echoing through the valley. The deep blue light on the blade suddenly shone, still dim, yet clearly visible. Especially at the tip of the remaining blade, a barely perceptible, almost transparent pale white light flickered—a manifestation of highly concentrated spiritual energy clinging to the edge.

Li Bai felt the sword in his hand grow heavier, as if it had come alive, eager to strike. Without hesitation, he exhaled sharply, using all his strength to unleash the essence of the "chopping" technique he had been practicing for some time. His waist and stance became one, his power rising from the ground, passing through his waist and back, over his shoulders and elbows, and finally converging at his wrist. This propelled the broken sword, transforming it into a hazy blue arc of light, as it slashed fiercely down towards the middle of the dark blue boulder!

There was no earth-shattering noise.

There was only one extremely faint, short, yet exceptionally clear sound—

"laugh!"

It's like a red-hot iron cutting into damp wood, or like an extremely thin blade slicing through taut silk.

The broken blade of the Azure Nether Sword sliced ​​into the surface of the boulder without any hindrance (at least it seemed so).

Li Bai sheathed his sword and stepped back, his chest heaving slightly, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. That last strike had nearly drained half of the spiritual energy from his dantian, and his arm was feeling weak. He stared intently at the boulder.

On the smooth, hard, bluish-black stone surface, a new mark had appeared.

A straight, smooth sword mark, about an inch deep and over a foot long!

The sword mark had clean edges and a smooth, mirror-like surface, even reflecting the soft sunlight streaming down from the dome overhead. There was no splintering of rocks, no flying dust; it was as if the stone had always had such a crack, only revealing itself now.

Li Bai stared blankly at the sword mark, then looked down at the Qingming Broken Sword in his hand, its luster fading and returning to its ancient simplicity. An indescribable, complex emotion, a mixture of shock, ecstasy, and realization, instantly shattered the composure he had maintained through days of arduous training.

Become!

He really did it! With this broken sword and the spiritual power he had cultivated, he left such a clear mark on such a hard boulder!

Is this extraordinary power? Is this the power that is distinct from ordinary martial arts, the power belonging to cultivators and sword immortals?

Although it was only a sword mark a few inches deep, although it took nearly half of his spiritual power to produce such a strike, and although its power was still a far cry from the legend of "killing one person in ten steps and leaving no trace for a thousand miles"... it was an undeniable starting point! A breakthrough from nothing to something, from zero to one!

He couldn't help but let out a long howl, which echoed through the valley and startled several small, brightly colored, unidentified birds that were perched in the distant flower bushes.

However, before the roar subsided and the wave of ecstasy had completely receded, another image crashed into his mind without warning and with a chilling intensity.

It's not a valley, nor a boulder.

It is a magnificent, continuous palace, a vast and resplendent imperial guard with its gleaming armor and a forest of swords and spears, a supreme imperial power representing the pinnacle of secular authority, and the heavy, merciless inertia of the wheels of history that crushes all individual will...

A sword mark only an inch deep might be something to be happy about in terms of personal martial prowess.

But what about in the face of a massive army? What about in the face of impregnable palace walls? What about in the face of emperors who might also possess extraordinary power to protect them? What about in the face of the immense historical tragedy of the "Mawei Slope Incident" that was destined to occur?

Is this much power enough?

Li Bai's smile froze on his face, and his long howl abruptly ceased. The valley returned to silence, with only a gentle breeze ruffling his sweat-dampened hair.

His grip on the sword tightened slightly. The familiar coolness of the hilt touched his fingertips, but it could no longer extinguish the suddenly rising, even more intense and colder flame in his heart.

not enough.

Far from enough.

He raised his head and looked at the unchanging, soft yet false "skylight" in the valley, and at the towering, smooth walls around him that seemed to isolate him from the entire world.

We must be faster, we must be stronger.

We must find a way out of here.

We must... do it before it's too late.