Everyone was delighted. Their fondness for Bai Xiaochun deepened. Not only was he adorable, but he also had a mischievous streak. Zhang Dapang took the lead and rewarded Bai Xiaochun with a grain of spirit rice, stuffing it into his hand.
Bai Xiaochun grinned happily and staggered back to his room. Before he could even climb into bed, the potent energy of the various spiritual treasures he had eaten erupted inside him. Dizzy, he collapsed straight onto the floor and fell into a deep sleep.
It was the sweetest sleep he'd ever had.
The next morning, Bai Xiaochun woke up feeling full of energy. Looking down, he noticed he'd gotten noticeably chubbier. His body was sticky, coated in a layer of black grime. He quickly went outside to wash up. Zhang Dapang and the others were busy preparing breakfast for the sect disciples. When they saw him, they burst out laughing.
> "Junior Brother Nine, that filth is just impurities in your body. Once it's gone, your cultivation will progress much more smoothly. No need to work these next few days—rest up first."
> "That spirit rice is great stuff. Don't leave it too long—eat it while it's fresh."
Feeling refreshed, Bai Xiaochun nodded and returned to his room. He glanced at the *turtle-shaped pot*, then decided to give it a thorough scrubbing and brought it back to place over the stove. Taking the spirit rice grain in his hand, he examined it carefully. It was about the size of his pinky, crystal-clear and fragrant.
> "No wonder immortals eat this kind of thing—it's amazing," he muttered.
He placed a few logs in the stove and lit them. Immediately, intense heat surged out, making his vision blur and forcing him to step back in surprise.
> "This fire isn't ordinary either. It burns faster and hotter than any fire in the village." He looked more closely at the wood—it, too, seemed special.
Just then, as the flames rose, *the first line engraved on the turtle pot* began to glow from bottom to top until the whole mark lit up.
Bai Xiaochun froze. Then he slapped his thigh in realization.
> "I knew it! This pot's a treasure. Definitely better than First Senior Brother's!"
Excited, he tossed the spirit rice into the pot and sat nearby. As he waited, he picked up the Purple Qi Cauldron Control Art bamboo scroll and began to practice the first pose and breathing technique.
Almost immediately, he widened his eyes.
Yesterday, the pose had been extremely uncomfortable. But now it was smooth—no strain, no shortness of breath. Instead, it felt… wonderful.
Even more surprising, he could now hold the posture for seven or eight breaths—twice as long as yesterday—and still felt fine.
He calmed his excitement and kept going. After thirty breaths, he finally felt a slight ache, and at that moment, *a cold stream of qi* suddenly coursed through his body. Though it didn't make a full circuit before fading, Bai Xiaochun jumped up in ecstasy.
> "I have qi now—haha! I really have qi now!"
Pacing around the room in delight, he realized the cause: it had to be all those spirit treasures he'd eaten the night before.
> "No wonder Senior Brother Zhang says he'd rather starve in the Fire Kitchen than fight in the Outer Sect. Outer disciples don't get stuff like this!"
He quickly sat down and resumed training.
This time, following the first breathing technique and pose, he managed to hold out for *a full sixty breaths*. At that point, a stream of qi surged through him—twice as strong as before—like a flowing stream.
With experience now under his belt, he guided the stream through specific routes in his body using the image in the scroll. He could even feel *tiny threads of cool energy* from his entire body merging into the stream, making it thicker and stronger—until it became *a full-flowing creek*.
When it finally completed a full circuit, Bai Xiaochun shuddered. A loud roar echoed in his mind, like clouds parting in the sky.
An incredible lightness filled his body, and foul black impurities continued seeping from his pores. Even more miraculously, the energy stream didn't vanish this time—it *remained*, flowing gently on its own through his body.
Opening his eyes, Bai Xiaochun felt clearer and sharper, like his whole being had transformed. His body felt *light as a feather*.
> "A constantly circulating qi stream… This means I've achieved *the first level of the Purple Qi Cauldron Control Art! That's the same as **Qi Condensation level one!*"
Overjoyed, he rushed outside and washed again. Zhang Dapang and the others exchanged knowing glances. Though surprised at his fast progress, they knew why.
Back in his room, Bai Xiaochun took a few deep breaths and studied the bamboo scroll.
> "It says that once the first level is reached, I can start *manipulating objects*… real immortal magic—controlling things without touching them!"
Eyes shining, he followed the scroll's instructions and formed a crude hand seal, pointing at the table. Instantly, the internal creek of qi surged toward his finger and leapt from it like an invisible thread linking to the table.
But just as it connected, the thread snapped with a pop. Bai Xiaochun turned pale and took a long time to recover.
Thinking again, he gave up on the heavy table and pulled out his wooden sword. It was lighter but still had some heft.
He pointed—and the sword *trembled, slowly **rising into the air*, though only by an inch before dropping.
Undeterred, Bai Xiaochun tried again and again. Soon it could rise ten inches, then twenty, thirty...
By dusk, the wooden sword was *floating in a straight line* across the room. It couldn't turn well and was still a bit wobbly, but it no longer dropped like before.
> "From now on, *I, Bai Xiaochun, am an immortal!*"
He stood proudly, left hand behind his back, right hand directing the sword as it wobbled and zipped back and forth.
Eventually, his qi weakened and he stopped. Just then, *a delicious aroma* wafted from the pot. He'd completely forgotten he was cooking spirit rice!
Opening the lid, a wave of rich fragrance burst forth—and to his shock, the spirit rice grain now had a *bright silver rune* etched on it.
It gleamed, almost hypnotic, then slowly dimmed to a dull silver. Bai Xiaochun squinted at it and thought for a while.
> "That mark looks familiar…" he murmured, checking the fire—now extinguished, with only ashes left. The glowing rune on the pot had also faded.
Suddenly, he realized: the *mark on the rice was identical to the rune on the turtle pot*!
Suppressing his excitement, he didn't eat the rice. Instead, he stored it carefully in his pouch. He suspected this was something big and told no one.
Days passed. Half a month later, Bai Xiaochun's cultivation slowed again. But he found out—no one else's spirit rice ever developed such a silver mark.
That only deepened his curiosity. One day, after Black Third Brother left to purchase ingredients, Bai Xiaochun visited the *Four Seas Pavilion*, a place where servants could study basic cultivation knowledge.
When he returned, his heart was pounding.
Back in his room, he pulled out the spirit rice and stared at the silver rune. The more he looked, the more *incredible* it seemed.
> "There are three essential paths in immortal cultivation: *alchemy, artifact crafting, and... **spirit refinement*!"
In the texts he'd read, spirit refinement was a mystical process where heaven and earth power was forcibly injected into an object, *enhancing it. Though heaven opposed such acts, and failure meant ruin, success could make a treasure **many times more powerful*.
Even more astounding—spirit refinement could be *stacked. If something could be refined **ten times*, it would undergo a heavenly transformation.
But the more times it was refined, the more likely it would *fail*, and even master refiners dared not try often.
> "It said the *Heavenhorn Sword*, our sect's guardian treasure, was refined ten times in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"
Swallowing hard, Bai Xiaochun looked again at the turtle pot with its *dozens of faded runes*. His heart pounded wildly.
He was now *certain—the silver mark on the spirit rice was **spirit refinement, and it was **caused by the pot*!
Torn between fear and curiosity, he knew he couldn't rest until he solved the mystery. He waited until late that night. Once everything was silent, he quietly approached the pot.
Taking a deep breath, heart pounding, he pulled out his wooden sword and, imitating how he had tossed the spirit rice, carefully placed it inside the pot...