Chapter 18: Upholding Righteousness and Dispelling Evil—The Literary Spirit of Confucianism and Daoism

Returning once more to the cold pool, Zhang Kai could clearly sense that what was once filled only with a chilling aura now faintly brimmed with spiritual energy. Though slight, the flow was continuous. While such a meager amount could not bless the land on a grand scale, it was enough to nourish and greatly benefit any being who chose to meditate here. This realization left Zhang Kai with mixed emotions.

After many days of tireless effort, fortune had finally allowed him to rekindle the flow of spiritual energy, yet it was so little—reversing the laws of heaven and earth was indeed no simple feat. The road ahead would be long and arduous; for now, it was best to focus on strengthening himself.

He sat down cross-legged, calming his mind and spirit, and mobilized his vast inner power. In the past, his internal energy was abundant but lacked agility. Now, as he cultivated, threads of spiritual energy from the cold pool were drawn into him. His internal power grew livelier, as if an uncut jade was finally being polished—a sensation akin to receiving a potent catalyst, sparking a fundamental transformation.

This filled Zhang Kai with excitement, and he devoted himself to his practice with renewed concentration.

Time slipped by slowly. As Zhang Kai absorbed more spiritual energy, his internal power began to change. The once surging force became denser and more compact, but its volume diminished.

He did not know how much time had passed before the pangs of hunger became unbearable, forcing him to stop. By then, it was already the afternoon of the following day—nearly two days had passed since he last ate. His internal energy had shrunk by a tenth, but it had grown far more powerful.

This, he surmised, must be the transition from internal energy to the level of true qi. According to Wudang’s internal alchemy methods and the cultivation techniques of White Cloud Temple, the path of immortality was divided into five realms: Foundation Building, Qi Refining, Core Formation, Primordial Spirit, and Earthly Immortal.

Yet in the world of cultivation, there was no such thing as “internal energy”—his own was an anomaly, a fictional power seized from the realm of film, inherently a level below true qi.

True cultivation meant sensing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and refining it directly into true qi, which marked the Foundation Building stage. The subsequent Qi Refining stage was an extended period of accumulation, commonly called “Dao Years.” One year of true qi equaled one Dao Year, and to reach Core Formation, one needed at least sixty years of Dao Years—otherwise, it was impossible to break through. Upon forming the core, true qi transformed into true essence, and such cultivators were known as “Real Persons.”

Beyond that, the Primordial Spirit split into Yin and Yang forms; only those who achieved the Yang Spirit had completed their cultivation and were qualified to ascend and become immortals.

It sounded straightforward, but in truth, each stage was a formidable barrier, blocking countless aspirants. Foundation Building depended on innate talent and comprehension—without these, cultivation was impossible; in the past, even one in a thousand was rare. Qi Refining tested one’s roots, temperament, fortune, luck, and resources. The process was painfully slow, requiring vast resources. With talent and resources, one could accumulate decades of Dao Years in just ten years. Without either, even a century of toil might not suffice to reach Core Formation before one’s lifespan ended.

Thus, the saying: “Qi Refining is like climbing a mountain; Core Formation is like flying to the heavens.”

Zhang Kai, blessed with the resources of the film world, began with three cycles of internal energy—once transformed, he would possess decades’ worth of true qi, a leap akin to ascending in a single stride.

Yet as he felt his internal energy change, Zhang Kai also grew frustrated.

There was simply not enough spiritual energy. At first, the transformation happened quickly, but it soon slowed to a snail’s pace. To fully convert his internal energy to true qi, he could either cultivate here day after day for years and, perhaps, eventually accumulate decades of true qi, or he could seek out higher divine thrones to awaken more spiritual energy, thus hastening the process.

All things considered, searching for higher divine thrones seemed the better choice. Spending years on this transformation did not fit Zhang Kai’s cultivation plan. Before achieving immortality, every extra day of life was precious—wasting years converting internal energy was too great a loss.

But where could he find such divine thrones?

This question troubled Zhang Kai. He had stumbled across the Bullhead Mountain deity by sheer luck; he couldn’t rely on luck alone to find the next one. While he pondered, his stomach rumbled in protest—his earthly needs reminding him that, unlike those who had formed their cores and could fast for months, he was still mortal and dependent on food.

Leaving the cave, he soared over a mountain ridge until he found a signal, then opened his phone and searched for a food blogger’s video featuring a whole roasted lamb. When the dish was presented, he paused the video, pulled it out, and feasted ravenously. Satisfied, he tossed the bones back into the scene and returned to the cave to continue his cultivation.

After two or three days, the transformation of his internal energy was still stuck at a tenth, and Zhang Kai’s patience wore thin.

This was just too slow—if years were needed, even that might be wishful thinking. Clearly, strengthening spiritual energy through the Investiture of the Gods and accelerating the transformation was the only wise path.

However, seeking out divine thrones could not be rushed; it would require long-term planning. Meanwhile, his internal energy, now possessing the qualities of true qi, had grown several times more powerful.

Unable to resist, Zhang Kai sought out an open space to test his strength.

Unleashing the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, a pale yellow dragon shadow, thick as a barrel and over twelve meters long, coiled and soared, vivid and lifelike. Its roar shook the mountains and forests, sending birds and beasts fleeing.

His Seven-Whirlwind Slash now extended to thirty meters, still able to fell a tree in a single stroke—truly astonishing.

As for his lightness skill, Zhang Kai leapt into the air, rising swiftly, then stepped onto the void itself, each stride lifting him higher as though he were a celestial being.

At last, he stood atop the treetops, overlooking the mountain forest, spirits soaring high.

Exhilarating.

And this was still not pure true qi—if he could fully refine it, possessing decades’ worth, he might even begin to nurture an immortal sword and attempt flight.

On the path to immortality, he had taken a great leap forward.

Contentment replaced his earlier frustrations; Zhang Kai’s mood brightened.

An hour later, Zhang Kai left Bullhead Mountain and headed for Daliushu Village.

After days of seclusion, progress had stalled—it was time to move on. Finding more divine thrones would not be easy, and there was no reason to waste time.

When he found the village chief, several elders and the scholarly deity Cheng Aimin were deep in discussion. Seeing Zhang Kai, they immediately greeted him with deference.

Zhang Kai asked a few questions and learned that, in recent days, they had drawn up a five-million-yuan plan: part would fund the school’s education, improving facilities and student life; another part would go toward buying seeds and machines for a village-wide venture to cultivate a herb unique to Bullhead Mountain. This plant, he heard, was the main ingredient in a highly effective blood pressure medicine, its price soaring in recent years—an investment well worth making.

Such arrangements pleased Zhang Kai. Clearly, the village leaders had foresight; the village itself had long-term potential. His five million would not go to waste. Should there be merit to be gained, he would surely share in it.

“Very well. Since you have a sound plan, put it into action. I hope that when I next return, the village’s divine position will be fully realized.” Zhang Kai smiled, and his words left the elders so excited they secretly vowed to devote themselves to the village’s service until their last breath.

“Are you leaving us, Immortal?” Cheng Aimin asked respectfully.

Zhang Kai nodded. “I have lingered here long enough and have other matters to attend to. I cannot tarry. Have you come to understand your duties and powers as the scholarly deity?”

Cheng Aimin replied with all due reverence, “I have, more or less. It is not complicated. My responsibilities are to look after the school and care for the students. I have also gained a certain power, though I do not yet know its purpose—perhaps you could enlighten me, Immortal.”

Zhang Kai smiled. “Describe it for me.”

Instead of speaking, Cheng Aimin’s body shone with a white light—vast, upright, radiant, indomitable yet gentle, embodying every virtue.

Zhang Kai stared in astonishment. In his mind, two phrases emerged unbidden: Uphold righteousness and ward off evil; the cultural energy of the confucian way.