The First Meeting

“The human body contains the twelve primary meridians and the eight extraordinary meridians. By absorbing the World Source Qi and converting it into one’s own True Qi, one can flush out the ‘Qi Stagnation Points’ within these meridians. A meridian where the stagnation points have been cleared is called a Spirit Meridian,” Mu Li explained. “Stagnation points aren’t present in every meridian. Those naturally born without them are called Innate Spirit Meridians. In the early stages, a person’s cultivation talent is judged by the number of these innate meridians.”

Lin Shao nodded. Mu Li had taught him this before, but it had been a while since he’d brushed up on it, and he had forgotten some details.

Mu Li continued, “Having three Innate Spirit Meridians means average talent, belonging to the common masses. Four is excellent, and five is a genius. The vast majority of cultivators in the Great Thousand World fluctuate between three and five.”

“Some have zero. These people are either unsuitable for cultivation or simply cannot do it—there are quite a few like that. On the opposite extreme is a rare condition where someone has twenty. This means all their meridians are naturally open. Such a person is one in a hundred thousand, a prize every major sect would fight over.”

“The Young Miss has all her meridians open. The Sect Master personally came to recruit her,” Hou Xingyue said with a proud look, as if he were the one with the open meridians.

“That’s impressive,” Lin Shao remarked. He then turned to Hou Xingyue. “How many do you have?”

Hou Xingyue scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “One. My count is one.”

“Not bad.” At least it’s not zero, Lin Shao thought optimistically. There was still hope for cultivation.

Under her bandage, Mu Li’s eyebrows twitched. She was certain that Lin Shao, in saying “not bad,” had absolutely no idea what having only one Innate Spirit Meridian actually implied.

The process of converting World Source Qi into True Qi requires meridians. Having only one means the efficiency is drastically reduced—and it’s not a linear relationship. Two meridians aren’t twice as efficient as one; they are three to four times more efficient.

A person recommended for cultivation usually has at least three, making them over ten times more efficient than Hou Xingyue. While a normal cultivator might reach Level 1 in a year or two, Hou Xingyue would likely take at least ten.

And Lin Shao said it was “not bad”?

Hou Xingyue was well aware of his situation, which was why he was so surprised by Lin Shao’s comment. In his eyes, Boss Lin was profound and mysterious; if the Boss didn’t see him as a total waste, then maybe he wasn’t.

“Just work a bit harder,” Lin Shao said, assuming efficiency was a simple 1:1 ratio. “Even if you only have one, as long as you put in three or five times the effort, you’ll eventually catch up.”

Mu Li added a side note: “With the correct method, and more effort.”

The correct method! Hou Xingyue was electrified. He was convinced Lin Shao possessed some special cultivation technique that could bridge the gap. If he used this “correct” method along with his own determination, he could finally chase the shadows of those who were once unreachable.

He didn’t rush to ask for the method. He believed Lin Shao wouldn’t give away such a treasure for free; there must be a trial awaiting him. Only by passing the test and earning the Boss’s recognition would he be helped.

Boss Lin has already allowed me to work as a handyman. I must prove myself in the coming days! Hou Xingyue tightened his fist secretly. No regrets!

“Your Majesty, this is…?” Shao Qingnü stared at Di Yao, who currently looked like a sixteen-year-old girl meticulously applying makeup in front of a mirror. Her mind was full of question marks.

It was unbelievable. Truly unbelievable. The Eternal Empress, who had single-handedly swept across the Great Thousand World and forced all cultivators to their knees, was currently fretting over which rouge to use and which dress to wear like a teenage girl in love.

Is there something wrong with the world?

“Shao Qingnü, do you think this looks too childish?”

Di Yao had tied her hair into twin buns on either side of her head, secured with golden hairpins adorned with red flowers, while the rest of her long hair flowed down her back. She wore a “Plain Snow Cloud Gown” that evoked the charm of a water-bound village, topped with a white plum-blossom gossamer shawl. With her slender waist, snow-white skin, and shimmering eyes, she was a vision.

Shao Qingnü felt odd but maintained a professional smile. “Your Majesty looks exceptionally beautiful in this.”

“Really?” Di Yao seemed satisfied. She twisted left and right in front of the mirror for a long time, changed her boots once, adjusted her rouge, and finally nodded.

“Let’s go!” She swung her arms spiritedly. The space around them rippled like water, and the scenery of the palace blurred as if another layer of reality were surfacing from the depths.

“By the way, don’t call me ‘Your Majesty’ later. Don’t reveal my identity,” Di Yao reminded them seriously. “From now on, my name is Di Yao’er. I am the second daughter of a family in the capital. I have an older sister who is a friend of yours, Shao Qingnü, and you’ve come here on her behalf.”

Who on earth is she going to see? Why is there so much roleplay involved? Shao Qingnü nodded in agreement, and Li Zhuwen followed suit in silence.

The distorted scenery snapped into focus. The three of them were standing next to a massive locust tree. In just a few seconds of spatial teleportation, Di Yao had brought them from the Imperial Palace to the depths of the Antique Street.

Straightening her clothes and thinking about seeing her Master, Di Yao’s heart was full of impatience. Her face beamed with joy, and her steps were light and bouncy as she ran toward the nearby Guyue Residence.

She really is like a sixteen-year-old girl in the middle of a honeymoon phase, Shao Qingnü thought, following behind. She wasn’t sure if this was masterful acting or genuine emotion. After watching Di Yao’s blissful smile for a moment longer, she leaned toward the latter.

The Emperor is in love! Shao Qingnü couldn’t help but be curious. What kind of fierce man could conquer this beast that had flattened the world?

As they drew closer to Guyue Residence, Di Yao grew uncharacteristically nervous. She was debating how to address her Master.

Calling him ‘Master’ is definitely inappropriate. We’ve ‘restarted’; I can’t use the old title.

Calling him ‘Lin Shao’ feels rude and a bit distant. I need something more intimate.

‘Big Brother’ or ‘Brother Shao’? How embarrassing… and there are so many people around. I’ll save ‘Brother Shao’ for when we’re alone.

‘Young Master’ or ‘Young Master Lin’? It feels a bit too formal, but considering this is only our third meeting since the ‘restart,’ it might be the right balance of distance.

So annoying! Isn’t there a term that’s both intimate and polite?

Lost in thought, she reached the entrance of Guyue Residence. A sudden idea popped into her head: she would call him “Brother Shao” the moment she walked in, then switch to “Young Master Lin” once Shao Qingnü entered. If her Master asked why she called him that, she’d have no choice but to keep calling him that even in front of everyone… The thought made her cheeks flush crimson.

“Shao—”

She stepped through the door, but the word “Brother” died in her throat.

The first thing Di Yao saw was a silver-haired girl sitting in the seat of honor right next to Lin Shao. She saw Lin Shao laughing, teasing the silver-haired girl with a warmth that made Di Yao’s world turn upside down.

In that instant, her heart felt as if the heavens had collapsed and the earth had split asunder.