Dragon Boat Secret Realm

After half a year of dedicated physical conditioning, Su Qing’s atrophied five spirit roots showed signs of comprehensive recovery.

Testing with a compass, she found her wood and metal spirit roots had reached a development index of 50 out of 100, while her water, fire, and earth roots, though still below 25, were no longer dull. They could absorb their respective qi, albeit slowly—far less efficiently than her wood and metal roots.

This progress showed that six months of the Sword Sect’s rich spiritual environment, nourishing spirit food, and qi-drawing pills had restored her body to its proper potential.

Su Qing wasn’t a genius. She couldn’t develop a rare mutated single spirit root or innate sword body like Tianning. But as long as she could cultivate normally with a proper starting point, she was content.

If she wanted further improvement in her foundation, she could seek marrow-cleansing or bone-forging elixirs to enhance her cultivation aptitude—options that were feasible.

For now, there was no rush.

With her cultivation speed back to normal, her body refining advanced to a new chapter.

Following the new refining curriculum, Su Qing began consuming a spiritual plant called Blazing Erosion Grass. This plant had mild corrosive properties. Swallowing it felt like ingesting a drop of glowing red magma, burning from her mouth, through her esophagus, to her stomach, and scorching her five organs.

Body refining was about destruction and repair. Mere destruction was just injury, ineffective. The brilliance of Blazing Erosion Grass lay in its dual action: after burning the organs, it transformed into a pure stream of fire-attributed qi, circulating to repair the damage.

Among the five attributes, wood was the best for healing—gentle, with no side effects. But body cultivators preferred the “thorny rose” of fire qi: destruction followed by repair, doubling the effect. It was pain paired with pleasure.

Consuming the herb was internal refining. Naturally, there was external refining too.

External refining took place at the peak of the Body Sect’s mountain, using wind to temper the body.

The peak’s gales, though less fierce than underground caverns, were intense enough for first-year students.

The first time Su Qing went, the wind nearly knocked her over. She could barely stand, let alone keep her eyes open. Infused with spiritual qi, the wind wasn’t just air—it was like invisible blades slicing her skin, leaving it raw and torn.

It was painful, no doubt. But since Little Mirror Lake was opened to freshmen, that pain turned into satisfaction as her strength grew through the lake’s healing waters.

Per sect rules, only the head senior sister had exclusive access to Little Mirror Lake’s streams. Others shared the main lake equally. With only first- and second-year students in the sect—third- and fourth-years were either in seclusion or traveling—the lake was vast, with many tributaries, so it never felt crowded like dumplings in a pot.

Su Qing loved soaking in secluded spots when she had time.

After three months of wind blades and healing, her skin grew tougher. Testing with a dagger, it was like cutting thick leather—no wounds, not even scratches. Even a dagger with a thin layer of qi couldn’t do much; if it broke the skin, the wound healed quickly. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

This was the wonder of external refining—she was amazed.

Internal refining had its benefits too, though less obvious until an incident at the second cafeteria. Undercooked spirit mushrooms caused food poisoning.

Su Qing had eaten there, consuming plenty of the mushrooms, but was unaffected—rosy-cheeked, energetic, even oddly exhilarated by the toxins. Unable to sleep, she stayed up drawing talismans. She didn’t realize she’d been poisoned until the news spread.

A tally revealed only Talisman, Array, and Artifact Sect students were affected. Even the “frail” Alchemy Sect students, accustomed to testing elixirs and resistant to toxins, were fine. The three affected sects were mocked mercilessly on the sect’s confession wall.

The cafeteria, far from losing business, saw a surge in customers eager to prove their poison resistance, demanding raw mushrooms.

Su Qing considered launching a poison mushroom spirit tea but, seeing the beleaguered owner, decided against adding fuel to the fire.

…

After mastering Xiaoyao Swordsmanship, Basic Swordsmanship moved to a new phase: sword qi cultivation, with a three-year practice period before assessment.

The method was simple: practice extensively or practice diversely.

Diverse practice meant studying various sword manuals, practicing widely, and absorbing techniques to gradually nurture sword qi.

Beyond these, the fastest way to spark sword qi was to place oneself in danger.

Life-or-death situations sharpened the blade.

Su Qing didn’t fear danger, but given a choice, she opted to double down on sword practice.

Wuya Pavilion’s first floor held about a thousand sword manuals, two hundred suited to her. After trying them all, she found Gale, a heavy sword manual.

Gale’s preface read: The might of the heavy sword surpasses all others, its power like a hurricane, unstoppable. Master its techniques, nurture its qi, build its momentum to grasp its way.

Su Qing treasured it—not for its lofty, cryptic prose that left her puzzled, but for its practical moves she could learn.

She studied it for three days, then rushed to the sword graveyard with her Manqing Sword, training relentlessly for three more.

After mastering the first three moves and gaining some insight, she flipped to the next page—only to find it blank, with bold words: [Insufficient Permissions]

It wasn’t about permissions—it was about points.

The rest of the manual was on Wuya Pavilion’s upper floors, not free. To access it, she’d need to complete tasks for points.

Tasks! She couldn’t escape working for the sect!

Her days were already packed with sword practice and body refining. She only visited Honey Spirit Tea weekly—where would she find time for tasks?

Since opening Honey Spirit Tea, she rarely did tasks. The first floor’s books sufficed, and her monthly 1,500 spirit stone profit eased resource concerns.

But her expenses were steep.

Sword maintenance alone cost over 600 spirit stones monthly.

After consuming all her second-tier black iron blood crystals, Manqing Sword grew picky. Despite being only first-tier high-grade, it refused anything below second-tier minerals. Even second-tier low-grade stones were eaten reluctantly, half left behind unless she coaxed it to finish.

She thought it had a small appetite until she tried a fist-sized second-tier high-grade wind chime stone. Expecting it to last two meals, the sword devoured it in one sitting, leaving no crumbs. Su Qing was stunned.

She’d been starving it.

Her sword was suffering under her care.

Her sword, her responsibility. It only ate two pounds of spirit minerals monthly, just picky—how was that wrong?! @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

The fault was her lack of funds!

Though Manqing Sword didn’t grow or gain weight, she couldn’t let it suffer. She gritted her teeth, buying second-tier high-, mid-, and low-grade stones for it to mix and eat. But she worried its diet was too uniform, risking nutrient deficiency. Consulting Beast Sect’s Senior Sister Chen Xinghao, she learned picky eating likely stemmed from an unbalanced diet.

Su Qing pondered sourcing rare minerals for variety. Other swords had them; Manqing shouldn’t lack. But rare meant pricey. She was frugal, yet sword care drained her.

Body refining was costly too. People said only the poor chose the Body Sect, but cultivation demanded money everywhere.

A single Blazing Erosion Grass cost 10 spirit stones—300 monthly. After six months, the three-year matured grass lost potency for her. The magma-like thrill faded to a lukewarm sensation, like sipping hot water.

Painless meant ineffective. She switched to five-year matured grass, regaining the burning joy at 20 stones per plant—600 monthly.

Sword practice and body refining nearly emptied her wallet, but other costs loomed. Spirit absorption pills, vital for qi intake, cost a bottle monthly. As a “sports student,” injuries were common. A day without training was a day lost, and Little Mirror Lake’s slow healing wasn’t enough—healing pills were a must.

She also kept emergency and investment spirit stone reserves. Despite earning, she lived frugally, splitting stones in half. She knew every sect shop’s discount schedules, dragging Tianning for bulk buys.

The 40,000 spirit stones from selling the spirit-dispersing array to Senior Sister Weiyue, after shop expenses and investments, dwindled to under 20,000—her untouchable safety net.

Reflecting on her spending, Su Qing concluded she was ambitious. She wanted a life of daily Blazing Erosion Grass and pounds of fine spirit minerals for Manqing Sword.

She didn’t think her goals were lofty.

Life was manageable, just tight—like a bowstring stretched taut, ready to snap under more strain. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

She longed for a drop of fortune to ease her parched life.

Two years later, during sword practice, Su Qing broke through to Qi Refining Layer 3. Around then, the Sword Sect announced the first secret realm for first-year students.

The Dragon Boat Secret Realm would open in a year.

The Sword Sect had its own secret realms—four fixed ones per academic year, plus smaller ones. Their difficulty varied by year.

First-year students, mostly at Qi Refining, faced a relatively safe realm with moderate danger. Yet, cultivation was a fight against fate—no opportunity came without risk.

Injuries, disappearances, or deaths were possible. Past data showed an 80% survival rate, with only 20% not returning—a high safety index.

Many deaths weren’t due to the realm’s dangers but to people.

The realm wasn’t exclusive to Sword Sect students. Yan Yi Sect, Rong Faction, Medicine King Valley, plus smaller sects, clans, and rogue cultivator alliances under the Sword Sect’s protection, would join. Some realm slots even circulated on the market—whoever bought them entered, their backgrounds often unchecked.

Without these variables, the realm would be a mundane field trip, lacking the thrill of danger-forged growth.

Crowds made it interesting. Treasure-hunting didn’t always mean realm treasures—others’ storage bags were fair game. Such thoughts, though unspoken for propriety, were mutually understood.

The Sword Sect harshly punished harming fellow disciples—root bone extraction and expulsion at minimum. With resources distributed fairly, sect camaraderie was strong, deterring such acts. But other sects weren’t as predictable, requiring constant vigilance.

Another reason for open access was revenue. Each slot cost a fortune in spirit stones—a major income source for the sect. Without it, how could they fund students? Rely on honor alumni?

Those high-powered graduates were often penniless, returning to mooch meals or sneakily pocketing spirit plants—useless for funds.

With the realm confirmed, Su Qing began preparations. Open once a century for three years, she’d be away from the sect, requiring planning.

Her Honey Spirit Tea was a concern. Three years away—who’d be owner or staff? With half the sect’s students, including second-years, soon leaving for their own realms, who’d buy her tea?

Her branch shop plans had to move forward sooner than expected.