Yunchuan's hunch proved true.
As the glowing rune between his brows pulsed with its strange frequency, the soul power that had been following standard meditative routes suddenly scattered. Threads of energy split off and began flowing in all directions—into rarely used and even entirely unexplored meridians.
Yunchuan tensed. In normal cultivation, soul power couldn't be guided randomly. Reckless circulation risked serious internal damage—the kind of mistake that would be called "deviation" or even "Qi deviation" in wuxia novels.
He almost snapped out of meditation—but held himself still.
He trusted the rune.
And gradually, it proved worthy of that trust.
Under its silent guidance, the scattered threads of soul power didn't veer wildly. Instead, they moved with subtle precision—flowing methodically into untouched meridians, expanding and cleansing wherever they passed. Even narrow or blocked internal paths were broken open and widened.
What amazed him most was that his own meridian network turned out far vaster than he had ever imagined.
What he once thought of as just the twelve principal meridians now resembled a massive root system—branching, interwoven, and everywhere.
Once they were clear, the soul power didn't return to the dantian right away. Instead, it surged toward his acupoints.
Pop. Pop. Pop…
One after another, more hidden nodes were unlocked.
And then it happened.
His soul power absorption rate exploded—tenfold!
"——Whoosh!!"
Wind stirred in the room.
A visible air current began swirling around his seated form, growing faster, spiraling tighter. A miniature vortex formed in the space around him—drawing in surrounding energy with frenzied intensity.
As it flowed into him, the energy followed the freshly opened pathways through his meridians, filtered and refined, and finally converged into his core—it became his soul power.
The sensation was so shocking, Yunchuan couldn't believe it.
'Am I dreaming?'
He had absorbed passive ambient energy before.
But never like this.
He was growing stronger at a speed he had never imagined possible. His first thought:
Was this world's energy system just too primitive?
Or was his cheat simply too overpowered?
As the rune's pulse slowly faded, Yunchuan instinctively withdrew from meditation and opened his eyes.
A pungent, horrible stench assaulted his nose the moment air hit his lungs.
"…What the hell?"
Looking down, he saw that his entire body was covered in an oily, gray-black sludge—filthy impurities extruded from every pore by the transformation.
'Did I just… cleanse my meridians?'
Suppressing a grimace, he ran to the window to let in some air. Then he sprinted toward the attached washroom, disgusted by the sticky mud clinging to his skin.
Without hesitation, he peeled off his fouled clothes and tossed them aside before stepping under the crystal-like soul-powered shower head.
Hot water cascaded over him.
As he scrubbed, a strange enough thought reemerged: for a world as backward-looking as Douluo Continent, its architecture and daily conveniences were… oddly advanced.
Toilet flushers, toothpaste and brushes, heated water—shower systems, even artificial lighting—yet no trace of electricity or generators.
It was a bizarre fusion of ancient and modern—almost a "patchwork world."
It made no sense… unless viewed from the lens of history.
To the soul masters, these strange modern comforts were just ancient relics from the so-called "predecessor era"—special soul devices powered by spirit energy. Over centuries, understanding had been lost. Now, they were treated as tools, not technology.
Yunchuan squinted at the ceiling through the rising steam.
'Maybe this world really did once reach a level like Earth's modern civilization. But for some reason… it fell. Whatever came before is now buried under legends.'
Regardless, he wasn't here to dwell on lost history.
Living well in the present was more than enough challenge.
He reached for a bar of soap beside the faucet and furiously scrubbed himself down. It took considerable effort—whatever clung to his skin after the meridian cleansing wasn't leaving easily.
When the whole bar was used up and he finally rinsed off the last traces, his skin looked noticeably brighter. Fair to the point of translucence.
"Too pale," he shook his head, examining the result in the mirror. "Looks like I need a tan…"
His face wrinkled with dissatisfaction. As anyone could see—he was not the 'pale and delicate prince' type. Skin this tender looked more like a young girl's than a fierce man's. Not exactly the look he was going for.
With a sigh, he turned off the water, toweled off, and glanced sideways at his ruined clothes.
The stench was revolting. They wouldn't survive a washing.
Maybe they didn't need to.
Raising a hand, he summoned a small blaze of golden-red flame—the fire attribute of his Supreme Clear Sky Hammer—and casually tossed it toward the pile.
Fwoosh!
The damp, stained cloth caught immediately. Even soaked, they burned clean in seconds.
The magical flame made quick work of the task.
Satisfied, Yunchuan turned on the faucet and washed the remaining ash down the drain. Within moments, the bathroom was clean again.
He stepped back into the room while drying his wet hair and noted that the lingering stink had cleared, thanks to the open window.
After grabbing a spare outfit and dressing, he returned to his meditation mat.
'Now let's see... If the rune's not actively helping me, do I still benefit from the changes?'
He closed his eyes and drew energy inward again.
"——Whoosh!!"
The vortex manifested again.
Wind stirred. Energy gathered.
With no assistance from the rune, the spiritual currents still roared into his body—following the now-cleared pathways to be refined cleanly and compressed into soul power.
Refining at this speed… was surreal.
He snapped out of it and reopened his eyes in disbelief.
Even without the rune's help, he was now cultivating soul power at more than ten times his previous speed. Which, in context, was absurd—he already had innate rank fifty.
This might've been legal bullying.
"If my soul power cultivation speed was already abnormal," Yunchuan muttered to himself, "what are these poor normal soul masters supposed to do now?"
He sighed dramatically—half gloating, half pitying—not that he intended to do less.
At this point, soul power cultivation wasn't the issue anymore.
His true limitation wasn't energy—it was his body.
No matter how much power he refined, his frame couldn't support too many rings—not yet.
So from this day onward, his priority was clear: build the body.
One soul ring at a time.
And maybe, just maybe…
Seal the title of youngest Douluo at ten.
Godhood at twelve.
Let the world take notice—this was only his beginning.
(End of Chapter)