Xiao Qi, relying on the faint heat from the flat-bottomed pot to sense spiritual qi, had found only a drop in the ocean, yet it was like grasping an extremely thin thread in a dark maze, giving him a glimpse of direction. He became even more diligent. Every day, besides completing the assignments his master Xuan Lin had given him, he would seek out secluded spots and secretly use the pot as a medium to attempt drawing qi.
Progress remained agonizingly slow. The thread of qi flow inside him was as fine as gossamer; circulating it through one microcosmic orbit often took the better part of a day. Compared to his fellow disciples, the gap spoke for itself.
One afternoon, Xiao Qi was practicing the most basic "Body Forging Fist" in a clearing outside the disciples' quarters. This fist technique aimed to strengthen the physique, laying a foundation for future cultivation. Its movements were simple but required precise postures and a balance of firmness and suppleness in applying force.
Xiao Qi was young and weak in strength; his movements were stiff and distorted, executed clumsily and without any imposing presence.
"Stop! What on earth are you doing? You look like a limp shrimp!"
A crisp, sharp reprimand sounded from behind him.
Xiao Qi jumped, retracted his fist, and turned around. He saw a young woman wearing goose-yellow martial attire, her hair tied in a high ponytail, her brows and eyes spirited, standing with arms crossed and glaring at him with knitted brows.
This girl looked about fourteen or fifteen, with an upright posture and a sharp, fierce aura. She was none other than Xuan Lin's third disciple, named Liu Yun, known for her straightforward and fiery temperament—the famous "little chili pepper" of the temple.
"Th-third Senior Sister." Xiao Qi recognized her and immediately bowed respectfully, feeling somewhat uneasy inside.
This third senior sister had already reached the mid-stage of Qi Refining, a standout among the outer court disciples. Though they had no interaction normally, he had heard she was blunt and could not tolerate sloppiness.
Liu Yun strode up to him, looking him up and down without the slightest courtesy.
"So you're the new junior brother Master took in? Having poor spiritual roots is one thing, but how can you even perform the most basic Body Forging Fist this badly? You're truly bringing shame to our Discipline Hall lineage!"
Xiao Qi's cheeks flushed bright red. He lowered his head, clutching the hem of his clothes, unsure how to respond.
"Look up! What's with this timid, shrinking attitude?" Liu Yun scolded. "A cultivator's aptitude can be poor, but their spirit must not be defeated! Their bones and sinews can be weak, but their will must not collapse! With your current state, forget Foundation Establishment—you'd be lucky to reach the third layer of Qi Refining!"
Her words came like rapid-fire, pounding Xiao Qi until he felt dizzy, both wronged and ashamed inside.
Perhaps seeing how truly young he was, and on the verge of tears, Liu Yun's tone softened slightly, but still carried an undeniable authority.
"Starting today, every day at Shen hour (3–5 p.m.), come here. I'll personally 'drill' you! So you don't go out and embarrass us!"
Thus began Xiao Qi's miserable "special training" life.
Liu Yun's teaching style was, like her personality, direct and "rough."
"Basic swordplay starts with holding the sword! Are you holding a fire poker? The wrist must sink, fingers must grip tightly! Yes, like that, hold it for an hour!"
Liu Yun thrust a heavy ironwood sword into Xiao Qi's hands. Watching him tremulously assume the starting stance, she would lightly but firmly tap his wrist or arm with a thin bamboo rod whenever his posture deviated slightly, making Xiao Qi grimace in pain but not dare relax.
After an hour, both his arms were sore and weak, barely able to lift, his palms sprouting new blisters.
"Footwork! The 'Swimming Fish Step' emphasizes agility and speed. Look at you, crashing around like a headless fly! Are your feet rooted? Is your waist dead?"
Liu Yun demonstrated personally, her figure like a butterfly threading through flowers, nimbly weaving between several wooden stakes left in the clearing, her sleeves fluttering, posture elegant.
When it was Xiao Qi's turn, he either bumped into the stakes or stumbled over his own feet, falling until covered in dust.
Liu Yun watched from the side, fuming, frequently shouting reprimands or directly using her hands to correct his awkward postures, her strength unmeasured, often squeezing until Xiao Qi cried out in pain.
The process was full of comic mishaps.
Xiao Qi, exhausted, lost his grip while practicing swordplay, sending the ironwood sword flying, nearly hitting a passing crane. Practicing footwork, he couldn't control his speed, plunging headfirst into a nearby shrub, climbing out with a head full of leaves and grass, a pitiful sight.
Liu Yun initially kept a stern face while scolding, but later couldn't help herself—often cursing "so stupid!" while also bursting into laughter.
Besides practical drills, during rest breaks Liu Yun would stuff Xiao Qi with notes she had compiled herself on cultivation basics. Written in elegant yet forceful handwriting, they recorded things like common pill identification, characteristics of low-level demonic beasts, techniques for using spiritual power, far more specific and practical than what Master Xuan Lin taught.
"Here, this 'Dew Condensation Pill' is the best basic pill for assisting qi drawing. Though you probably can't get any, knowing about it won't hurt; don't be fooled by inferior products."
"When circulating the microcosmic orbit, if you feel your mind restless, try silently reciting passages of the 'Heart-Cleansing Mantra.' It may not do much, but it's better than nothing."
She spoke fast and urgently; Xiao Qi had to focus fully to remember.
The special training days were excruciatingly hard. Xiao Qi returned every day feeling like his body had fallen apart, covered in bruises.
Yet undeniably, under Liu Yun's "cramming" plus "rod-and-stick" instruction, his progress was real.
The Body Forging Fist now looked more like the real thing; though still lacking strength, his stances were much more standard. Several basic swordplay moves could be executed consecutively, no longer as ridiculous as before. The "Swimming Fish Step" showed even clearer improvement; at least he could barely weave through the stakes without falling.
More importantly, the cultivation knowledge Liu Yun instilled in him broadened his horizons, giving him a more concrete understanding of the cultivation path.
And Liu Yun, though her words never softened, scolding him relentlessly, Xiao Qi could sense this senior sister meant no ill will.
When Xiao Qi collapsed exhausted on the ground, she would toss him a waterskin filled with sweet mountain spring water. Discovering his palms rubbed raw, she would disdainfully call him "delicate," yet also stuff him with a small jar of fairly effective ointment. When Xiao Qi made a fool of himself over some basic knowledge question, she would laugh heartily but then patiently explain again.
One day, after special training ended, Xiao Qi was so exhausted he could hardly move, sitting on the ground panting heavily.
Liu Yun stood before him, the setting sun stretching her shadow long.
Looking at Xiao Qi's sweat-drenched little face and those still-clear eyes that now held a touch of determination, she suddenly spoke.
"Hey, little dummy."
Xiao Qi looked up.
"The cultivation road is long. Don't give up on yourself just because your starting point is low." Liu Yun's tone was unusually calm. "Since Master accepted you, he has his reasons. You… have a bit of tenacity, didn't cry and quit on me—barely not too disgraceful."
Finished, without waiting for Xiao Qi's response, she turned and waved, her ponytail cutting a clean arc in the air.
"Same time tomorrow! Don't be late! Latecomers get an extra hour of training!"
Watching the third senior sister's receding back, a warm current rose in Xiao Qi's heart.
He rubbed his still-aching arms, but the corners of his mouth curved slightly upward.
This sharp-tongued but soft-hearted third senior sister, though her training methods were "inhumanly cruel," had let him, in this unfamiliar Qingxu Temple, genuinely feel for the first time a kind of care and sternness akin to "family."
A preliminary, bickering, scolding kind of senior sister-junior brother bond quietly took root and sprouted in this daily "special training."