In truth, Ji An was confident he could bring his Minor Rain Technique to perfection within a year. But in life, it was always wise to keep a card hidden up one's sleeve. So, he'd said three years instead.
Even so, in the eyes of the others, this already sounded almost impossible.
Zhao Mengyao's delicate brows knit together, her gaze lingering with unspoken meaning.
Were there Qi Refinement disciples in the sect who had ever perfected a spell?
Yes, she could think of one right away.
But those were people who, after realizing they had no hope of Foundation Establishment, poured all of their time and energy into polishing spells. By doing so, they secured the right to remain in the sect longer.
For those who still harbored hopes of Foundation Establishment, every breath of time was spent on refining spiritual energy and pushing forward in cultivation.
The cultivation realm was the foundation of everything. Especially breakthroughs into higher realms, which could extend one's lifespan significantly.
Only by living longer could one afford the luxury of polishing spells slowly, advancing steadily.
Generally speaking, if a cultivator could maintain aggressive progress in their cultivation, they wouldn't be willing to waste much time on comprehending the deeper mysteries of spells.
But, if it only took three years to bring a spell to perfection, who would refuse?
Chu He raised his brows, lips parting as if to speak, but he shut his mouth awkwardly.
In half a year, he had only just barely brought three basic artifact-forging spells to Small Accomplishment. He had no grounds to speak.
His cultivation level was higher than Ji An's, yet his spell progress lagged far behind. And he knew well the gulf between Small Accomplishment and Great Accomplishment!
Zhang Yuanshan watched the blood-red afterglow stain Ji An's profile, the restrained light shining in his eyes. His heart stirred inexplicably.
Whether or not Ji An could achieve his claim, the mere composure and poise he displayed were enough to put others at ease.
"Then we shall wait and see," Zhang Yuanshan said, lifting his eyes toward the sky. After a pause, he added, "It grows late. We must each return to our halls. Junior Brother, we'll take our leave."
Another hurdle, cleared.
Ji An let out a silent breath of relief. Putting on airs was exhausting!
If he hadn't managed to project the right presence, the whole act would've fallen flat.
"Please wait a moment, senior brothers and sisters."
He dashed back into the bamboo lodge through the rain, rummaged out several small cloth sacks, shook them clean, and filled each with over ten jin of Yellow Sprout Rice.
Wrapping them with an oiled cloth, he tucked the bundles into his arms and jogged back, hunched against the rain.
"I have nothing else of value here. If you don't mind, please accept this spirit rice as a small token."
Relationships, after all, were built little by little through such exchanges.
Motives aside, these people had genuinely helped him; he could keep them close.
Zhang Yuanshan accepted his portion with a broad smile:
"Very well. After tasting your rice earlier, its fragrance still lingers in my mouth. I'll gladly accept."
The other two also accepted their rice before mounting their spirit birds and flying off.
Ji An watched as their three silhouettes dwindled in the sunset sky, then quickly turned back toward his bamboo lodge.
He changed into dry clothes, sat cross-legged on his meditation cushion, and resumed cultivating the Clear Source Sutra.
How could he let the spiritual energy in Yellow Sprout Rice go to waste?
When he opened his eyes again, an hour had passed. His cultivation endurance had already increased; he could now meditate half a shift longer than when he first began.
Moonlight flooded the room, glinting faintly off the polished patina of the little wooden carving on the windowsill, like shards of broken glass reflecting.
"Tomorrow, I'll sell part of the spirit rice. I need to accelerate my pace of advancement."
The Stone Tortoise's constant devouring, coupled with his mediocre aptitude, meant that without pills, Ji An's cultivation progress was painfully slow.
But Ji An was determined to break through to mid-stage Qi Refinement as soon as possible. The higher his cultivation, the more spiritual power his body could contain, the more spells he could unleash, and the more spirit fields he could plant.
If not for the debts hanging over his head, he already had the beginnings of a perfect cycle for advancement.
Rising to his feet, Ji An stretched his legs. Sitting in one posture for too long left his body slightly stiff.
The spiritual meridians within a Qi Refinement cultivator weren't strong enough to nourish every inch of the body while cultivating. This was another reason why those at this stage couldn't train for long stretches.
Only after breaking through to Foundation Establishment would such concerns vanish.
Once the pins-and-needles sensation in his legs faded, Ji An began practicing the Sharp Gold Art.
Though even a second-layer spell was enough to handle the aphid problem in his grain fields, the Sharp Gold Art honed precise control over spiritual power and tempered one's divine sense. For that reason, he devoted extra time to it.
Today, he felt especially sharp. The golden threads of energy formed at his command, shifting with his will.
Whether gathered into a beam or fanned out into a spray, everything moved smoothly under his control.
Clearing his mind of distractions, Ji An immersed himself in the flow of practice.
Then, as he once again wove the golden energy into a bundle, something shifted.
A faint golden beam, as thick as his little finger, shot out from his fingertip. It streaked four or five meters across the room, striking directly toward the wooden carving on his windowsill.
Damn, did I just master the Six Meridian Divine Sword?!
For a heartbeat, he froze, then sheer joy surged through him. He leapt forward, snatched up the carving, and held it close.
A hole had been bored straight through it. The edges weren't smooth but slightly rough to the touch.
Closing one eye, Ji An peered through the little hole and saw the bright moon outside.
He shifted his angle. Moonlit leaves came into view. Beyond them, the stars scattered across the heavens.
Who says farming spells can't be used to hurt people!
A grin split his face from ear to ear. If he unleashed this on someone, could a low-stage Qi Refiner even survive it?
[Sharp Gold Art (Proficient 49% → 51%)]
A pity it wasn't a true moment of enlightenment.
Still, though his mouth muttered "what a shame," Ji An's eyes shone with excitement.
His fingers caressed the scarred carving. Lips moving lightly, he whispered:
"A pity what should've been a good thing ended with you taking the wound."
That carving had been with him for years. Sentimental attachment had grown.
He resolved that, when time allowed, he'd find a piece of wood just like it and patch the little hole.
Replaying the state he'd just achieved, threads converging into a beam, Ji An tried to reproduce it.
After more than ten failures, he finally succeeded again. This time, the unlucky victim was a cucumber hanging on its trellis.
"Ha! Yes!"
He was about to try once more when he realized his spiritual energy was almost spent, and a dull ache pulsed in his head, the telltale strain of overusing divine sense.
Cultivation was a long road. To crave instant success was impossible on the proper path of the Dao.
Sitting cross-legged once more, Ji An reflected on why today's practice had gone so well.
After long contemplation, clarity dawned.
Since entering the sect, even with the Stone Tortoise's aid, his cultivation had been difficult, every step calculated, every resource stretched thin.
Subconsciously, he carried too much burden in his heart. Too much scheming. That was far from the crisp decisiveness that the Metal element demanded.
But earlier today, after speaking with Zhang Yuanshan and the others, he had voiced his ambitions openly. That surge of sharp resolve still lingered within him when he practiced the spell, perfectly aligning with its essence.
He recalled the night he first grasped the Sharp Gold Art, his heart filled with a spirit of unyielding defiance.
"The mind shapes the world; the world bends to the heart. Where the will points, the path appears."
Ji An softly intoned, feeling as though he was brushing against a hidden door.
If he could push it open, his spell cultivation would advance by leaps and bounds.