Chapter 16: Thank You

"Cultivation was never meant to be that complicated." Chen An, characteristically lazy, tossed out the line without a second thought before turning and heading downstairs. 

He planned to visit the orphanage today and hand over the bank card to the director. If he delayed any longer, he'd miss the last bus to the town.

Lin Jingqiu followed him step by step, her expression complicated. She had thought she would be the one to guide Chen An into the world of cultivation. 

Who would have expected that he would be the one to help her break through into the Qi Refinement stage? The reversal of roles left her flustered and embarrassed. 

The more she remembered how smugly she had spoken to him before, the more she wished she could curl up and disappear.

If he was some hidden expert, why didn't he say so from the start? No wonder he looked so calm when she revealed her secrets—he wasn't some clueless outsider at all!

She pouted. Chen An was probably laughing at her in his heart...

Suddenly, the boy walking ahead stopped in his tracks. School had been out for a while; the hallways were empty, and the classrooms were quiet. Only the sounds of students playing on the field drifted in faintly.

Chen An turned to face her. "You're thinking I'm laughing at you in my head, aren't you?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She stiffened and put on a stern face. "N-no, I wasn't."

She turned her head to avoid his gaze. "Whatever, think what you want."

Her nose twitched slightly, and there was a touch of grievance in her voice. She had truly meant well, had sincerely valued Chen An as a new friend. She hadn't hidden anything, but opened up to him completely. 

She had even thought about bringing him to the capital, about helping him step into the world of cultivation.

And those weren't just thoughts—she had made real preparations. Like she'd said at noon, if he didn't have spiritual roots, she'd go beg her master and her clan elders to admit him through special means. 

As long as he could get in, everything else could be figured out later.

She made it sound easy, but in reality, it would've been incredibly difficult. Still, she had been willing to try—all because of that hand he had extended to her that day, drenched in blood, but still reaching out to save her.

And yet, everything she had done was pointless. He had never needed her help.

The more she thought about it, the more upset she became. She knew it was a little dramatic, a little silly—but she still felt wronged.

Chen An stepped forward, blocking out the hallway lights with his shadow. "You're overthinking things."

He looked at her gently. "I saw everything you did."

"Maybe to you, it all feels one-sided, like it didn't help me at all. Maybe I seem like someone who didn't need your help." He paused for a long time. "But that's not true. I actually really appreciate it."

"Thank you." He said it plainly, simply. But to Lin Jingqiu, it carried incredible weight.

She looked up at him. Her brows lifted in a way that wasn't quite a smile but still lit up her face.

With her hands clasped behind her back, she skipped ahead of him. She didn't say anything more.

After parting ways at the school gate, Chen An set out alone for what he called home—if the orphanage could still be called that. 

When he reached the usual spot where the village bus stopped, he waited for around ten minutes before a dirty yellow minibus wobbled its way over.

Chen An waved it down. He glanced at the sky—lucky, this was probably the last one.

He climbed aboard, found a seat, and closed his eyes to rest. Threads of spiritual energy, imperceptible to normal eyes, began to drift toward him like a school of fish. 

They were massive in volume, yet orderly in movement. Chen An didn't resist them. No matter how much poured in, no matter how fierce, he welcomed it all into his body.

If it were any cultivator below the Nascent Soul Realm, this torrent of energy would've torn them apart in seconds. But not Chen An. His body had once withstood the trials of the Mahayana Realm—it could easily bear this pressure.

Guided by his will, the spiritual energy flowed into his Spiritual Sea. If all went well, the energy would be refined there and converted into pure spiritual power to nourish him.

But something unexpected happened.

The Spiritual Sea was damaged. Incomplete.

Chen An focused his mind and examined it carefully. Suspended in his core was a spinning, translucent platform—but at its center was a hole the size of a fist, as if it had been pierced clean through by sword energy and then mangled further. No matter how much energy flowed in, it all leaked out the other side.

In other words, this Spiritual Sea could no longer refine spiritual energy. Which meant he could no longer truly cultivate.

The Spiritual Sea was the foundation of a cultivator's power—the source of their energy and the basis for all their techniques. Once damaged, the consequences were dire and irreversible.

Which meant that, despite retaining the body of a Mahayana Realm cultivator, Chen An now possessed only as much usable power as a Core Formation cultivator at best. Even if he spent a hundred years in seclusion, nothing would change.

Granted, according to Lin Jingqiu, the strongest cultivators on Earth right now were only at the Foundation Establishment stage. 

But that was only because spiritual energy had just begun to return. In a few years, once the world's energy had fully revived, there would surely be many rising geniuses. And then, someone at the Core Formation stage wouldn't be worth mentioning at all.

Still, Chen An remained calm. He had expected this. His expression didn't change in the slightest. Any other cultivator in his position might've despaired—but not him.

So... what now?

He turned his head and looked out the window. The view outside rolled past like a painting, reflecting on his calm, indifferent face.

Was this really the end of the road?

Even with the experience and physique of a Mahayana cultivator, he would at most remain unbeatable among his current peers. But his prime would never return.

Without enough spiritual energy, everything was just empty talk. The body of a Mahayana cultivator, without the power to match, was just a hunk of useless flesh.

But then a thought occurred to him. He pondered it carefully. Maybe... maybe it could work.

He focused his mind again, diving back into his core.

A chibi version of himself appeared next to his broken Spiritual Sea. The tiny figure extended a hand and gently pressed it against the platform.

In the next moment, the entire Spiritual Sea exploded.