The Condensation of Supernatural

Chapter 10

After the incident with the village elders, Dao Lord Mimen Wangqing had firmly established his position as an object of faith in Mingguan Post. All the villagers spontaneously offered sacrifices and paid their respects. The spiritual embryo placed within the statue had absorbed a great deal of the power from the incense offerings. The wooden embryo, which had originally been nothing more than blood-smeared wood, now exuded a certain divine charm. Behind it, faint, hair-like strands were slowly beginning to grow.

"Is this the first condensed supernatural power? It seems that... I've messed it up."

Inside the Temple of the Dao Lord, Li Changmeng sat cross-legged, his bare upper body as smooth as jade. On his back, four smooth tentacles had grown, gently waving in the breeze. They felt as warm and delicate as jade to the touch, their color a lovely shade of white with a hint of pink. They could truly be described as exquisitely carved like jade.

After these tentacles emerged, Li Changmeng came to understand that the villagers of Mingguan Post believed that Dao Lord Mimen Wangqing usually held apart the heavens and the earth with his two hands and two feet—and that he possessed additional jade-like hands of spiritual power to handle trivial matters. What kind of thinking was this? Was it akin to the notion that an emperor might use a golden hoe to till the land? In the past few days, to condense a powerful supernatural power, Li Changmeng occasionally recounted to the incense-burning villagers the story of how Dao Lord Mimen Wangqing created the world. Unexpectedly, their interpretation was unique: since two hands and two feet were required to hold apart the heavens and the earth, extra hands should naturally grow to assist. And most importantly, it would be acceptable if he were granted additional arms—at least, having a few more arms wouldn't seem too strange.

But what about these four tentacles? There was inevitably some deviation between the condensation of a supernatural power and the divine image as held in belief. For example, Li Changmeng had observed in his cultivation technique that a spiritual embryo with three heads and six arms did not necessarily condense the supernatural power corresponding to three heads and six arms. It was also possible for lower-level supernatural powers—such as those resembling the form of a beast, four arms, or two faces—to manifest. Moreover, when a supernatural power is first condensed, it is always at its weakest; as it is nourished by the power of incense offerings over time, it will grow stronger.

Li Changmeng helplessly waved the four tentacles on his back as if they had always belonged there. What's more, they were a hundred times more flexible than ordinary hands. Then came a sharp "snap." One of the tentacles suddenly elongated and whipped down on the stone-tiled floor like a long lash, and a shocking crack resounded.

"I'm afraid it wields the strength of a thousand catties."

Each of these four tentacles, as long as two hands and only as thick as a wrist, could indeed unleash the power of a thousand catties. Even now, without the use of any spells or additional spiritual power, relying solely on these tentacles would render him invincible in the mortal world.

"Alas, this supernatural power cannot be considered weak either. Perhaps I simply have not yet discovered its specific magical applications. If it can only be used as a long whip, then it is a waste."

A trace of worry flashed in Li Changmeng's eyes. He hoped that his current low cultivation level was the reason he had not yet unleashed its true potential; otherwise, he would have no place to hide his strength. He named this supernatural power "Spiritual Jade Hands." You might argue that they are not really hands—but tentacles are also a kind of "hand"! Thus, there was nothing wrong with the name "Spiritual Jade Hands."

In addition to this newly born supernatural power, Li Changmeng's own cultivation realm had reached the fourth level of Qi Refining—the middle stage of Qi Refining. This progress was more than ten times faster than when he was on Baiyun Mountain. Every time a villager burned incense and made an offering, it brought Li Changmeng a wisp of power from the incense offerings. After the spiritual embryo absorbed this wisp and circulated it through the cultivation technique, it transformed it into pure spiritual power. The efficiency of this process was much greater than absorbing the ambient spiritual energy of heaven and earth. This was why Li Changmeng had rocketed to the fourth level of Qi Refining within just one month. In the Qi Refining realm, the first three levels each added thirty wisps of spiritual power, while the middle stage saw an addition of a hundred wisps per level. The difference was enormous. In less than three months, he had transformed from a rural child into a cultivator at the fourth level of Qi Refining. No wonder his unorthodox cultivation technique was considered so revolutionary—it allowed for much faster progress than orthodox sects.

Li Changmeng was very satisfied with his cultivation speed. Having absorbed only the power from incense offerings, he reached the fourth level of Qi Refining without consuming any other resources, amassing a hundred wisps of spiritual power. He coiled the tentacles behind his back. Once coiled, these four tentacles, each as thick as a wrist, were hardly noticeable. After Li Changmeng donned his clothes, there was no visible sign of them, perfectly hidden beneath his garments.

As he walked out of the room in the Temple of the Dao Lord, Wang Hu and Sun Er immediately approached to greet him.

"Greetings, Lord Spiritual Child."

"Alright, go on with your own tasks," he replied dismissively.

After sending the two away, Li Changmeng looked at the spiritual embryo housed within the statue. In front of the statue stood a merit box, offerings, and incense burners. Below, six futons were arranged, accommodating up to six people paying their respects simultaneously. At that moment, one devotee was fervently praying.

"I beg Dao Lord Mimen Wangqing to bestow his power and save my terminally ill mother. My mother has devoted her life to caring for our family and has never done any wrong. She should not be tormented by illness in her old age."

The devotee was Yang Jian'an, the man who had helped repair the house. Although he had repeatedly refused to take money afterward, it was only because Li Changmeng insisted that he finally accept it. Later, Yang Jian'an was frequently seen coming to burn incense.

"Is your mother ill at home?"

Though his voice was soft, Li Changmeng heard every word clearly.

There were several types of people who burned incense: those who simply hoped for some efficacy and peace of mind; those who believed in the existence of gods and frequently prayed to them; firm believers in only a few deities; and fanatical believers who placed the will of the gods above all else. In other words, there were casual believers, shallow believers, firm believers, and fanatical believers. In Mingguan Post, most were casual and shallow believers—the belief in Dao Lord Mimen Wangqing was still new, and there had been few divine manifestations so far. The stronger the belief, the more power the incense offerings could provide. Therefore, for a cultivator relying on the power of incense offerings, both the quantity and quality of believers were equally important.

Hearing Yang Jian'an's prayer, Li Changmeng was moved.

"Benefactor Yang, the Dao Lord has heard your prayer and has commanded me to relieve your worries."

("Benefactor" is the term used to address those with faith.)

Yang Jian'an stopped praying and turned to see Li Changmeng standing calmly behind him.

"Lord Spiritual Child! Is it true? Did the Dao Lord really hear my prayer?"

Yang Jian'an's face flushed red. After a month of waiting—and with his mother suddenly stricken by a serious illness that no medicine could cure—he had pinned all his hopes on the Dao Lord. Now, Li Changmeng, as the Spiritual Child, had responded to him. How could he not be overjoyed?

"The Dao Lord knows all and can do all. Naturally, he hears your prayer. It is your piety that has earned you this reward. Benefactor Yang, take me to see your mother."

Yang Jian'an, unsuspecting, immediately rose and respectfully led the way. Li Changmeng followed him all the way. This was the second time he had visited Yang Jian'an's home, but this time his status was unmistakably different.

Soon, Li Changmeng arrived at Yang Jian'an's mother's residence. The old woman had a pale face; her eyes were tightly closed, and her breath was faint. The room was filled with a foul odor that refused to dissipate. Yang Jian'an carefully lifted the quilt, revealing the old woman's appearance—almost entirely covered in festering sores.