After speaking, Yao Santu stood up and brought a small bowl with a knife.
Following the method Senior Immortal Stone had taught him earlier, he made a cut on his wrist and tilted his arm, letting blood drip from his fingertips into the bowl.
When the blood filled one-third of the bowl, he lifted his hand to bandage the wound.
At that moment, a green light suddenly flashed before his eyes.
"This is—!"
Under the glow of this light, the wound on his wrist healed completely within moments, leaving Yao Santu staring in disbelief.
"It’s healed?"
He gingerly touched his wrist, finding no scar—as if the injury had never existed.
"Unbelievable! Even the sect’s finest medicines couldn’t do this!"
"Senior Immortal Stone, accept this humble bow from Santu!"
"I swear today to serve you faithfully all my life! Should I ever waver, may I be annihilated body and soul!"
Bubbling sounds emerged…
As Yao Santu pledged his oath, the blood in the bowl boiled and transformed into crimson mist, which Chen Yang absorbed.
Instantly, Yao Santu’s mind cleared as if a veil had lifted—an unprecedented clarity!
He immediately recognized this as Senior Immortal Stone’s doing and dropped into meditation to circulate his cultivation methods.
The moment he drew in spiritual energy, his heart jolted again.
"This spiritual energy density—is this real?!"
"Threefold… fivefold—no! It’s beyond five times!"
Without wasting a breath, Yao Santu devoted himself entirely to cultivation, determined not to waste this rare opportunity.
With sixfold spiritual energy concentration, one night’s progress equaled three ordinary days.
Such results solidified Yao Santu’s resolve.
"Senior Immortal Stone didn’t lie! With his power, I’ll Condense my Qi Palace within a year and become a true cultivator!"
After bowing again to Chen Yang, he rushed to the forging room’s stone warehouse to begin his daily sorting duties.
In subsequent days, fellow workers noticed the once-diligent Yao Santu no longer stayed late to practice forging.
Upon asking, they learned Deacon Zhang had urged him to leave the mountain, but Yao Santu refused—choosing to dedicate every spare moment to cultivation for the upcoming Secret Realm of Hundred Refinements.
Yet everyone knew Yao Santu’s talent was abysmal. Even a year of relentless effort might not help him reach the Gathering Qi realm.
"Brother Santu has it rough…"
"What’s new? We’re all orphans here."
"Don’t be heartless! He helped us constantly when we first arrived."
"Just stating facts."
A lean young helper said, "Entering the mountain gate means standing at the line between immortals and mortals. Those with ability step forward to boundless skies, while those without should accept their fate and return to ordinary life."
"But…"
A younger helper tried to speak but got interrupted: "No buts! Poor talent means poor talent – that’s the cold truth, like it or not!"
The sharp words silenced the younger helper. Their situation proved the point – both had been chosen by sect elders to skip apprenticeship and work directly in the forging room.
In just over a year, they’d already unlocked four Qi nodes. Meanwhile, Yao Santu remained stuck at the tenth node after ten years in the sect. Catching up for the Secret Realm of Hundred Refinements seemed hopeless.
As they set down tools to leave, both froze upon seeing Yao Santu behind them.
"This…"
"Brother Santu, we…"
"Don’t worry. You’re right – I know my limits better than anyone."
Yao Santu showed no anger while organizing tools. "But I won’t quit. This is my only chance to change fate. Even if it ends like drawing water with a bamboo basket, even if I get crushed to dust, I’ll fight till my last breath."
He turned to face them squarely. "I hope you’ll do the same. Whatever challenges come, give your all. Win or lose, keep your conscience clear."
The two young helpers watched his departure in silence, an unexpected conviction growing in their hearts.
"I… actually want Brother Santu to succeed…"
"He’ll make it! So will we!"
From that day, their bond deepened. The helpers began assisting Yao Santu with material selection tasks, freeing his evenings for cultivation. Yao Santu stored every kindness in his heart.
As seasons changed and time passed, a year flew by.
The day arrived for Artifact Towers’ Tiger-Chasing division to open the Secret Realm of Hundred Refinements. All new disciples who’d formed their Qi Palace gathered for registration.
Deacon Zhang kept glancing down the line while processing entrants. Though knowing the odds, he secretly hoped the youth he’d saved from corpses could achieve the extraordinary.
"Brother Zhang, time’s up."
A fellow Artifact Towers cultivator prompted as the last disciple registered. Deacon Zhang rose reluctantly.
In the crowd, Yao Santu’s two friends fretted. They’d seen his year of desperate training, and now genuinely wished for his success in Gathering Qi.
"Since no one else…"
"Wait!"
Deacon Zhang grabbed the registrar’s wrist. All turned to see a crimson figure approaching down the path – Yao Santu, clothes soaked blood-red.
Pain flashed in Deacon Zhang’s eyes. Though unseen, he knew what agony this breakthrough must have cost.
Under stunned gazes, Yao Santu marched to the center. His voice rang steady: "Yao Santu, forging room material helper. Successful in Gathering Qi. Requesting entry to the secret realm."
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