In the quiet of her chamber, Gu Qingli sat cross-legged, her small figure poised in solemn stillness. Though her cherubic face was tender and youthful, it bore an expression of deep concentration as she earnestly absorbed the essence of heaven and earth.
She understood well that this primal energy would become the very cornerstone of her strength and cultivation.
One day, as her body reached the saturation point of this energy, a faint and almost imperceptible sound stirred within her. The gathered essence coalesced into a slender current of airflow—subtle, diffuse, yet alive—as it began to roam aimlessly through her body.
Gu Qingli did not panic. With composed intent, she guided the current with her consciousness, gently leading it along the meridians coursing through her form. With time and repetition, the flow began to trace those paths instinctively, even without her deliberate control.
Ultimately, the energy converged upon her dantian, rushing into the tiny, bean-sized inner core nestled within her.
As she repeated this process, Gu Qingli began to sense a subtle transformation—the inner core shimmered faintly, exuding warmth and a delicate glow.
Then, a scene of breathtaking wonder unfolded within the confines of her small room. Beneath her, the sacred silver markings of heaven and earth appeared, a phenomenon granted only to those undergoing an ascension protected by the laws of the world.
At first, it was no more than a glimmer of silver at her feet, but it swiftly expanded into a perfect circle, a meter in diameter. The circle's interior was filled with a misty gray hue, at the center of which two enormous silver swords crossed, encasing a brilliant pair of characters that blazed with radiant light.
Amid her astonishment, Gu Qingli realized she had leapt from the rank of One-Star Warrior to Two-Star Martial Knight in a single bound—an advancement so great, it defied common sense. Such progress would normally demand no less than five years of arduous cultivation.
What five-year-old child could possibly have attained the rank of a Two-Star Martial Knight?
It was her first experience of ascension in the mystical cultivation system of the Shen'gu Continent, and her heart surged with exhilaration.
She extended her snow-pale fingers slightly, and in that moment, a streak of gray battle energy shot forth, striking a teacup on the nearby table. The porcelain shattered into dust.
After her initial elation passed, she quietly absorbed the sensation, gradually realizing the intricate relationship between the cultivation of battle energy and the Phoenix Fire Art. The two shared mysterious parallels, though their essence differed.
Battle energy was drawn through the pores, absorbed from the ambient essence of the world, and would trigger advancement once saturation was achieved.
In contrast, the Phoenix Fire Art drew spiritual energy through the soul, fortifying the strength of one's spirit. When practiced, it could even accelerate the absorption of worldly energy through the pores. In other words, Gu Qingli, blessed with the Phoenix Fire Art, could cultivate at a pace far beyond her peers.
Though more elusive and ethereal than battle energy, spiritual power was undeniably real—and potent.
On the Shen'gu Continent, the path of soul cultivation was held to the highest standards. Those with formidable spiritual force were rarer even than Spirit Illusionists.
Thus, those born with even a slightly stronger spiritual presence were destined for a revered path—one that gave rise to the most exalted of professions: alchemists.
Alchemists were universally esteemed, enjoying honor and deference wherever they went.
Yet for now, Gu Qingli remained blissfully unaware of such matters.
Time slipped by swiftly in her silent cultivation. Save for her warm interactions with Gu Qingche, she barely spared words for anyone else.
When Han Jiao and Gu Qinglin regained consciousness and learned that Gu Qingli had gone unpunished, their resentment festered deeply.
Learning that she had even become a disciple of Dongfang Kunlun drove them to the brink of madness with jealousy. Though they dared not provoke her openly, they began gritting their teeth in relentless cultivation—Han Jiao simply refused to believe that she, a noble Spirit Illusionist, could be outshone by a worthless little wretch like Gu Qingli.