Chapter 7: The Trials of Cultivation

Han Li slowly withdrew the energy flow from his meridians back to his dantian. This marked his seventh **major heavenly cycle** of the day. He knew his body had reached its limit; pushing further would rupture his meridians, forcing him to endure agony akin to "living worse than death." Just recalling the searing pain of torn meridians sent chills down his spine.

Over half a year had passed since joining the sect. The probationary disciples' final assessment concluded two months prior. Only a fraction passed into the inner sect; most were relegated to the outer sect's **Treasure Gathering Hall** or **Skyhawk Hall**. Exceptional candidates might join the elite **Bladed Edge Hall**, while the prestigious **Four Seas Hall** remained a distant dream—reserved for renowned martial artists, not green recruits.

Han Li shuddered at the memory of the trials: a grueling marathon around Rainbow Cloud Mountain, team combat in desolate woods, and fending off senior disciples' relentless attacks. He and Zhang Tie had dodged these horrors, tested instead on their progress with the **nameless mantra**.

The mantra's first layer was their sole focus. Mastery within six months would grant them inner sect status. Initially, Han Li toyed with slacking off to join the outer sect and return home. But learning of the inner sect's lavish stipends—silver sent directly to his impoverished family—he threw himself into cultivation.

For three months, Han Li secluded himself, mimicking the inner energy techniques of disciples practicing **Zhengyang Force**, the sect's foundational art. Yet his progress crawled. A wisp of cold energy, faint as mist, coiled in his dantian—nothing like the roaring heat his peers described.

While others shattered trees and leaped rooftops with their "Zhengyang" prowess, Han Li's cold energy offered only heightened focus and appetite. Despair gnawed at him. *Am I talentless?*

A revelation reignited his resolve: Zhang Tie, despite relentless effort, had generated **no energy at all**. This oddity spurred Han Li to redouble his efforts. He meditated day and night, even sleeping in lotus position—until exhaustion forced him to stop.

Doctor Mo, meanwhile, remained aloof. He never inquired about their progress, engrossed instead in a tattered tome titled **"长生经" (Scripture of Longevity)**.

The book, Han Li later learned, detailed methods to "nurture vitality and prolong life." He and Zhang Tie joked that Mo aimed to "outlive turtles, surviving millennia." Yet the doctor's obsession deepened, his days consumed by its pages.