My Cultivation Has a Progress Bar

Ever since witnessing his master’s assassination firsthand, Zhang Xinghuai had understood one truth: you had to take matters into your own hands. There would always come a time when you couldn’t rely on outsiders.

So, before establishing his own foundation, his first thought was of his own strength. Initially, he thought that breaking into the next realm would change things. But upon achieving it, he discovered he was merely a frog in a well. It had taken all his effort just to reach that stage; advancing any further was simply impossible.

He had considered Divine Techniques, but only briefly. His goal was to break their hold, not to become a slave to power and faith himself.

That left only one path he knew of: the Saint of the Jimin Association.

The old man before him was a member of the Jimin Association. He and Guan Xi had once orchestrated a conflict between four Third Realm Cultivators. They should have parted ways once it was over, but this man had suddenly proposed staying. He even invited Zhang Xinghuai to join the Jimin Association, visiting him from time to time to preach the greatness of the association’s Saint.

Unlike the Court ritualists, who couldn’t utter a few words without mentioning their so-called followers and faith, this man only spoke of the Saint’s greatness. The greatness he described wasn’t about physical power, but about the loftiness of one’s ideals. The Saint he spoke of was much like the saints described in the Human Dao.

This left Zhang Xinghuai with a question. If the Saint was the embodiment of all noble ideals—wisdom, integrity, honesty, tolerance, benevolence, humility, and so on—then why was there a so-called "extremist faction?"

The old man told him that the Saint’s virtues applied to all of creation, not just to humankind.

This was in complete opposition to the Human Dao that Zhang Xinghuai followed, which was why he had hesitated for so long. But the old man also told him the Saint cared for neither the Human Dao nor the Celestial Dao.

When Zhang Xinghuai finished stating his request, the old man showed no surprise or joy. Just as he was about to speak, Zhang Xinghuai cut in, "We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we? I still don’t know your name."

"You can call me Ming Kong."

"Ming Kong? Why does that sound like a dharma name from the Vajra Temple?"

Zhang Xinghuai stared at the old man’s bald head and asked uncertainly, "You aren’t actually a Monk from the Vajra Temple, are you?" He then chuckled and joked, "Perfect. Why don’t you take a trip to the Snowfield for me and help me negotiate with those Monks?"

Ming Kong picked up the teapot and filled Zhang Xinghuai’s empty cup. He poured his own tea much more slowly, then said, "I did indeed spend some time at the Vajra Temple long ago. The Buddhist Teachings they pursue are a decent path, but they bind themselves with too many shackles. Practice their way for too long, and you become warped. You can’t cultivate it without great wisdom."

"And since I was a foolish child, I could never cultivate such great wisdom. That’s why I left long ago."

By the time Ming Kong finished speaking, his cup was full. He set down the teapot, lifted the cup with both hands, and looked at Zhang Xinghuai. "As for those Monks in the Snowfield, they cultivate the self. It takes even greater wisdom to find one’s way out of that path. So far, only a handful have grasped the truth."

He took a sip of tea and glanced at Zhang Xinghuai. "Dealing with them is simple. Give them what they want, and you’ll get what you want. There’s not much else to it. You’ve already sent people to negotiate with them, haven’t you, you sly kid?"

With that, he set down his cup, exhaled slowly, and said, "The Saint’s Dao is, in truth, the dao within your own heart. Your dao perfectly aligns with the concept of ’balance’—a balance of spirit, a balance of humanity, and a balance between heaven and earth."

Zhang Xinghuai listened intently.

"Perhaps you think we gain our power too easily? As if all you have to do is serve some imaginary Saint, and you’ll be granted unparalleled power for free!"

Ming Kong’s words carried a hint of warning. "If that’s what you’re thinking, then you should give up any idea of cultivating the Saint’s Dao right now."

Zhang Xinghuai laughed. "You’re a real piece of work. That’s not what you were saying before. What’s this? You get my hopes up, and now you’re changing your tune?"

He was only joking instinctively. As a disciple of an orthodox Mystic Sect, he knew full well that cultivation was never simple. The easier something appeared, the greater the price it often exacted.

Ming Kong only chuckled, offering no explanation.

Zhang Xinghuai picked up his teacup. "What’s the price?"

Ming Kong shook his head. "You don’t have to give up anything. Simply understand what you truly desire, comprehend your dao, and then follow it without faltering. Never look back. The moment you do... all your progress will be lost!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. You understand the Human Dao better than I. If you choose to cultivate it, you must walk that path to the end. If your conviction wavers in the slightest, you will lose everything you’ve gained."

Zhang Xinghuai understood. He looked up at the sky, where snow was still falling in thick flakes, and whispered, "So this is the price?"

"It is."

"Then, is using your power to shield us from this snowstorm also part of your cultivation?"

COUGH, COUGH.

Ming Kong choked on his tea, then shook his head at Zhang Xinghuai.

Zhang Xinghuai gave him a look that said, ’You really can’t take a joke.’ He waited for Ming Kong to catch his breath before asking, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Do not disrupt the balance. This is crucial. Of course, if you can convince yourself that everything you do is to *maintain* the balance, then you can do as you please. But it is often easy to convince others, yet incredibly difficult to convince yourself. If you harbor even a sliver of doubt, you will suffer a backlash."

Zhang Xinghuai couldn’t help but ask, "So, is that what happened to the extremist faction? They drove themselves mad trying to do as they pleased?"

Ming Kong didn’t pursue the topic. His expression unchanged, he continued, "Don’t think this is a simple matter. Let me give you an example. Say you see someone committing an evil act and, out of indignation, you strike the perpetrator down. If you cannot convince yourself of your righteousness, or if you later learn the truth and discover the *victim* was the one who truly deserved to die, then you are finished."

...

Hearing this, Zhang Xinghuai’s expression faltered for a moment before he said, "Even if I made a mistake, I wouldn’t give up. My conviction is greater than that!"

"Good!"

Ming Kong was pleased with Zhang Xinghuai’s answer. "It was seeing your devotion to the Human Dao that brought us to this heart-to-heart conversation today." He finished speaking, his gaze turning very serious as he asked, "Are you ready?"

"Now?"

"Yes. The Saint exists within your heart. All you need is a catalyst."

"So that’s your so-called Saint?"

Zhang Xinghuai looked as if he’d just met a con artist.

Ming Kong rose to his feet. Staring at Zhang Xinghuai without a word of explanation, he asked again, "Are you ready?"

Zhang Xinghuai also stood, suppressing all the questions in his mind as he nodded.

Ming Kong fell silent. He raised a finger and tapped the spot between his own brows. A brilliant light flared from that point, and in an instant, it crossed the distance to touch the spot between Zhang Xinghuai’s brows.

The moment the brilliant light touched the spot between his brows, Zhang Xinghuai felt a tingling numbness in his eyelids. In the next instant, his consciousness seemed to detach from his body, at once sinking into the deepest Hells and soaring into the starry Cosmos.

While his thoughts drifted, his consciousness descended, finding itself in a hall bathed in brilliant light.

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