After his breakthrough, Wang Zifan was so utterly exhausted that he collapsed right there, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. Hours later, the gentle embrace of dawn arrived.
The world outside stirred to life with the chirping of birds and the soft hum of morning. Golden rays of sunlight, slipping through the canopy of leaves, pierced through the dimness and kissed Wang Zifan's eyelids, coaxing him awake.
He slowly blinked his eyes open, groaning softly as he rubbed them. "Is it morning already?" he mumbled to himself, trying to recall the events of the previous night. "I don't remember anything after my breakthrough."
A sense of disorientation lingered, a hazy cloud obscuring the immediate past. He stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles, a testament to the strenuous ordeal he had just endured.
His body felt heavy, yet there was an underlying current of renewed energy, a subtle hum of power that had not been there before.
Wang Zifan then began to pat around his immediate surroundings, searching for his belongings. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his fingers brushed against the familiar fabric of his pouch. Everything was still there, intact. He sat up, taking a moment to survey the lush, vibrant forest around him.
The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming wildflowers. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs.
A determined glint appeared in his eyes.
"Now, I need to head home," he declared, his voice firm despite the lingering fatigue. "And then, I must focus on my cultivation. I will become incredibly strong." The thought ignited a fire within him, pushing aside the weariness.
The recent breakthrough had only deepened his resolve, making his aspirations feel more tangible, more within reach. He envisioned a future where he commanded immense power, capable of protecting himself and those he cared about.
Just then, the sound of voices drifted towards him. Two figures emerged from the dense foliage, walking along a path that ran close to where Wang Zifan rested. They were engrossed in conversation, their voices carrying clearly in the tranquil morning.
One of them, a bald man with a rather robust build, was speaking animatedly to his companion. "Did you hear?" he said, his voice a gravelly whisper that nonetheless reached Wang Zifan's ears. "There's going to be a competition at the Immortal Slayer Sect in a month's time!"
The other man, shorter and stout, with a round face, nodded slowly. "I've heard whispers," he replied, his tone tinged with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
The bald man's eyes gleamed. "Are you going to join? Becoming an outer disciple of that sect is a huge deal, you know. And if you make it into the top three, you even get a chance to enter the Death Spring Pool!"
The stout man's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. "Wh-what? Is that true? A chance to enter the Death Spring Pool? They say ancient immortals used to cultivate there in ancient times!" His voice was filled with awe, a testament to the legendary status of the pool.
"Absolutely!" the bald man confirmed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "We could gain so many opportunities there. And as for the Death Spring Pool, cultivating there for just one day is equivalent to ten days of cultivation outside!" He paused, letting the significance of his words sink in. "Imagine the progress we could make, the sheer leap in power!"
The stout man's initial excitement was quickly tempered by a new thought. "I want to join the competition, but Teng Xuanyu is also participating," he mused, his brow furrowed with worry. "If I end up fighting him, there's a good chance I could die." His voice had taken on a somber tone, acknowledging the formidable reputation of Teng Xuanyu.
The bald man sighed, a hint of agreement in his voice. "You're right about that. And there's also another person named Luan Yu who's supposed to be there. That's why the competition is going to be incredibly tough. I, for one, won't be participating." He shook his head, clearly having decided the risks outweighed the rewards.
The stout man echoed his sentiment. "I won't be participating either." The two men continued their discussion as they walked away, their voices fading into the distance.
Wang Zifan, who had listened to their entire conversation, mused to himself, "The Immortal Slayer Sect… that's a truly formidable sect. I've heard its leader is incredibly strong, and even its elders possess immense power."
His mind raced, processing the information he had just overheard. The idea of joining such a prestigious sect, with its promise of unparalleled opportunities, sparked a new ambition within him.
"If I could join this sect, I'd gain so many opportunities," he thought, his heart pounding with excitement. "The competition is in a month, so I need to become incredibly strong. And right now, I need to get home." He stood up, shaking off the last vestiges of sleepiness, his mind now focused on his immediate goals.
He began his journey home, walking briskly through the forest. As he walked, a strange feeling settled over him, a faint sense of unease, as if something was amiss just out of his sight. He tried to ignore it, attributing it to his recent exhaustion and the lingering effects of his breakthrough.
His mind was already buzzing with plans for his cultivation, pushing aside any minor distractions.
No sooner had he left the spot than two figures, a young man and a young woman, tumbled out from behind a large tree. The girl immediately started scolding the boy. "We shouldn't be doing these things in the middle of the road!" she whispered fiercely, a blush creeping up her neck. "That child was about to see us!"
The boy, unfazed, simply waved her off with a smirk. "Forget him," he said, pulling her closer. "Let's continue what we were doing."
Wang Zifan, who had noticed their antics from a distance, couldn't help but smile wryly. "Don't they have any shame, acting like that in public?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Anyway, never mind all that now. I need to get home quickly."
His pace quickened, eager to escape the awkward encounter and immerse himself in his training.
A short while later, Wang Zifan finally arrived home. He quickly closed the door behind him, locking it securely. He wanted no distractions, no interruptions, as he began his next phase of cultivation. He sat down, cross-legged, and opened the ancient cultivation book his father had given him.
He carefully flipped through the pages, searching for a powerful attacking technique, something that would give him an edge in future battles and, more immediately, in the upcoming sect competition.
His eyes landed on a promising technique, its description intricately detailed. The technique was called "Profound Slash."
Wang Zifan studied the instructions carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I've seen a technique similar to this before," he mused, a memory surfacing.
"Bai Lin used a similar technique to attack that burly man, but he used sword intent." He nodded to himself. This technique, while seemingly simple, clearly had profound depth.
"Alright then," he decided, a spark of determination in his eyes. "I'll practice this one."
The instructions were clear: "First, you must consider spiritual energy as a part of your own body. Calm your mind. Gather spiritual energy into two fingers. Then, shape those two fingers into the form of a sword and unleash a slash."
Wang Zifan followed the steps meticulously. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind, trying to feel the spiritual energy flowing within him. He gathered it, concentrating it into his index and middle fingers, trying to shape them into the sharp, precise form of a sword.
Then, with a grunt of effort, he performed the attack.
Nothing happened..
He tried again, and again. Each attempt was met with the same disappointing result – absolutely nothing. Frustration began to bubble within him. He spent what felt like hours, repeating the motions, trying to feel the energy, but no matter how hard he tried, the 'Profound Slash' remained stubbornly elusive.
Discouraged, Wang Zifan eventually walked outside. He slumped onto a nearby rock, his shoulders slumping. "Maybe I can't do this," he thought, a wave of self-doubt washing over him. "This is too hard." He sighed, a heavy weight settling in his chest. "Perhaps cultivation isn't meant for me. Maybe my dream of joining a sect will remain just a dream."
Just then, his gaze fell upon something small and persistent. A short distance away, a tiny squirrel was attempting to climb a tree. It tried, and failed, its little paws slipping on the bark. It tried again, and again, falling each time.
Wang Zifan watched it, a wry smile forming on his face. "This little squirrel is trying just like me," he mused, "and it's failing too. Its luck is just like mine."
But then, to his surprise, the squirrel, after one more determined effort, finally managed to cling to the bark and scamper up the tree. Wang Zifan's eyes widened in astonishment. "That squirrel kept trying, kept failing, but it didn't give up!" he exclaimed, a sudden surge of inspiration filling him. "And in the end, it succeeded!"
A renewed fire ignited within him. "Alright," he declared, pushing himself to his feet. "Then I won't give up either!"
He went back to practicing. He tried, and failed, repeatedly. Hours passed, and dusk settled, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.
Darkness eventually enveloped the world, yet he still hadn't mastered the attack. His body ached, his fingers trembled with exhaustion, but he pushed through the fatigue, remembering the persistent squirrel.
Finally, with a deep breath, he declared, "Enough is enough! It's now or never!"
Wang Zifan calmed his mind, pushing away all doubt and frustration.
He slowly, meticulously, gathered spiritual energy into his two fingers. He focused, shaping them into the form of a sword, feeling the subtle hum of power concentrating at their tips.
Then, with a fierce shout, he unleashed the attack towards a large boulder nearby.
A blue slash of energy burst forth from his fingers, streaking through the air and striking the massive rock with a resounding thud.
A huge, deep indentation appeared on the boulder, a clear testament to the power of his newly learned technique.
Wang Zifan stared at the mark, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and elation. "Finally!" he exclaimed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I did it!" He flexed his hand, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Right now, this attack is weak, but as my cultivation progresses, its power will surely increase."
He looked at the indented rock, then back at his fingers. A wave of exhaustion washed over him again, but this time it was a satisfying weariness. His clothes were torn and dusty from his efforts, but he barely noticed.
"Now I can definitely participate in the competition," he thought, his confidence soaring.
"I'll rest tonight," Wang Zifan decided, looking up at the moon hanging high in the sky. "Tomorrow morning, I'll go to the mountains to cultivate. I've heard that the spiritual energy there is much denser than it is here."
With his new resolve and a breakthrough achieved, he walked back into his house, ready to embrace the journey ahead.
He deserved a good night's rest after his tireless efforts.