Chapter Nine: Static Equilibrium

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The first stage of cultivation was to enter stillness.

Only by calming the mind was cultivation possible. Otherwise, it was like trying to scoop the moon from the water or climb a tree in search of fish.

In truth, everyone was capable of entering stillness, and everyone had done so before. Often, it happened without their noticing: the mind would suddenly become quiet, free of worldly concerns, with clear skies and a tranquil heart. One would feel only peace and harmony within.

It was an immensely comfortable sensation, one that often appeared without warning.

Yet when pursued deliberately, the more one tried to become still, the more impossible stillness became.

Thus, people had devised all kinds of methods for entering stillness. Though such tranquility was not profound and could not compare with the natural kind, it was still tranquility enough to nourish the mind and spirit.

Martial arts were one such method.

Or rather, a martial art of sufficient quality, once it reached Level One on the panel, proved that it could be used to calm the mind. Otherwise, the martial art had not truly been mastered.

Unlike Li Qi, other people had no panel with which to measure their progress precisely. They could only rely on other methods.

And upon reaching the fourth level—that is, minor mastery—the mind would settle with the mere stir of a thought. It simply could not remain that way for long.

Li Qi was still some distance from the fourth level. For now, he had to rely on the method contained within his swordsmanship to enter a state of settled stillness.

Stillness led to composure. Once the mind was still, the will naturally settled as well. Everything followed of its own accord.

In the meditation room, Li Qi watched himself while adjusting his breathing bit by bit. Within the lake of his mind, his image first appeared as a vivid human figure. Then its colors faded, leaving behind only simple lines. In a short while, it had been reduced to a sparse outline drawn in a few strokes.

After that, the lines forming the figure grew ever simpler, while the lines outlining the long blade sharpened into something keen and piercing.

This was the introductory mental method of the Eighteen Tiger Fury Blades—or, more precisely, its visualization method, its method of entering stillness...

There were many names for techniques of this sort, but in essence, they were all the same thing.

Then, quite naturally, Li Qi felt that the moment had come.

The sensation was subtle, yet precise. It was like lying awake in bed, unable to fall asleep, until a feeling suddenly arose that sleep was about to claim you—and then, moments later, it did.

Likewise, what Li Qi felt now meant that, between his mind and body, the former had reached a suitable frequency, and its influence over the latter had reached a certain peak.

Put in more scientific terms, the bioelectric activity in his nervous system had reached a crest.

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In fact, in the world where Li Qi had lived in his previous life, although no one could train themselves into a superhuman, certain forms of qigong could produce similar sensations. During practice, the entire body might feel charged, as though a current of energy were circulating within.

In reality, that was merely an illusion caused by heightened activity in the nervous system.

But in this world, the mind truly could influence the body and cultivate extraordinary abilities.

Had Li Qi checked the time, he would have seen that only a little over a minute had passed since he sat down.

Three months earlier, when his swordsmanship was still at Level One, reaching this state had required him to sit in meditation for at least half an hour before finding that point of harmony.

Those without a panel to display their condition generally used the time required to enter stillness as a way to gauge their progress in cultivation.

Facing the mirror, Li Qi followed the sensation and rose straight from the floor.

He did not need to push himself up with either hand. He moved directly from a cross-legged seated position to standing, the entire motion smooth and fluid, possessing a strange, inexplicable beauty.

But he paid no attention to his movements. Instead, he gripped the blade with one hand while the other stroked its length, inch by inch.

The weapon in his hand was a wooden sword. Long and slender, it had a narrow, straight blade with a curve only at the tip. Yet it was not light; it possessed a certain weight, for it had been carved from superior ironwood—a material that grew extremely slowly but was excellent for making training weapons.

Compared with steel blades, wood was better at nourishing the body. Before one entered the path, a wooden sword was far superior to an iron one.

As Li Qi ran his fingers over the wood grain, he seemed able to sense the blade’s network of channels, its meridians, its breathing. It was as though the sword possessed a life of its own.

Of course, this was only an illusion. But cultivating swordsmanship required precisely such an illusion. In a certain sense, tempering the spirit through swordsmanship was a form of self-hypnosis: borrowing the false to cultivate the true.

Visualization performed in empty space was inevitably hollow. Only by entrusting one’s visualization to a physical object could it truly exert its effect.

A sword was merely a sword. In essence, the object in Li Qi’s hands was nothing more than a piece of wood. Yet once an object had been invested with the spirit, it was given an entirely different meaning.

As his palm passed over the blade, Li Qi’s entire body had already turned red. This was a sign that his vital energy and blood were surging.

He had performed no strenuous exercise. He had merely sat in meditation, risen, and stroked the long blade. Yet these simple movements alone caused his blood to roll and boil. Faintly, one could even see heat and sweat steaming from his body.

Clearly, this was the mark of swordsmanship that had already reached proficiency.

Human potential was extraordinarily powerful. In moments of crisis, even someone incapable of lifting a chicken could erupt with astonishing strength and speed—dodging a speeding car, or even lifting a vehicle that had overturned onto its side.

And those who performed such feats were often left with blood surging violently through their bodies, their heart rates skyrocketing as their vital energy erupted.

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Even if they had not engaged in strenuous exercise beforehand, that single burst of effort was enough to awaken their blood and vital energy.

Human beings were called terrifying upright apes for a reason. It was not merely their intelligence. Much of the time, humans appeared weak only because they wished to clear the game without taking damage. Once they abandoned that fantasy and unlocked berserk mode, their combat power was by no means inferior.

The changes taking place in Li Qi’s body followed the same principle.

The essence, energy, and spirit he had accumulated during his earlier meditation formed the foundation. Then, the act of stroking the blade became a key that activated his body—like a hypnotic suggestion planted in the mind. That was what gave rise to the surging vital energy he now possessed.

Thus, in the meditation room, Li Qi retreated several steps until he reached the center of the room. Then he began to swing his sword.

His sword techniques were not complicated. Each move was simple, even plain. But on closer inspection, one would notice that his hands and feet moved, and that his entire body moved with them. Look more carefully, and it became clear that the force originated in his spine, which drove the movement of his whole body.

This was unquestionably an extraordinary sword art—at least within the realms before and immediately upon entering the path.

That much could also be discerned from the mark displayed on the panel.

The evaluation “White: Supreme” already said everything.

White referred to the level, while Supreme referred to the quality.

As for color, Li Qi currently knew only white and blue. But from the panel, he had gleaned some information about the evaluations that followed.

White was the most ordinary. Above it were Common, Superior, Refined, Supreme, and finally the highest rank of all: Extreme.

As for cultivation methods of higher quality than white, the Eighteen Tiger Fury Blades itself was one of them. Once the final five techniques were completed, the sword art would become blue. But mastering those last five techniques required entering the path as the most basic prerequisite.

Without entering the path, the body simply lacked the necessary physical foundation.

The reason was simple: the bodily structure of one who had entered the path was entirely different from that of an ordinary person. The nervous system alone was more than ten times as developed.

Trying to cultivate by force without a sufficient realm was no different from attempting to run an enormous, cutting-edge computer game on a mobile phone.

Boom, boom, boom!

The meditation room resounded with tremendous sounds of air being torn apart. Every stroke Li Qi made was infused with all his essence, energy, and spirit. The blade cleaved through the air like exploding thunder, like the roar of a ferocious tiger.

The thunder was only muffled thunder, and the tiger only a young cub—but it was already extraordinary.

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