Within moments, three strands of True Qi had condensed inside Liang Xiao's Dantian.
Without hesitation, he began weaving according to the intricate steps he had spent half a year calculating.
As the three threads intertwined, they split again—three became six, stretching and crossing like threads in a loom. Under his control, they weaved rapidly, moving with the precision of a craftsman at work.
These True Qi strands were mutually insulating—they would not fuse simply by contact.
That insulating property was the key to his Special Golden Core Method, the reason he believed it could succeed where normal cultivation could not.
Thanks to six months of relentless practice, his weaving was swift and fluid. Whenever the threads began to shorten, he drew more power from the Qi Gathering Pill in his mouth, refining fresh True Qi to lengthen them.
Before long, half of a Yin-Yang Taiji Diagram, woven entirely from Qi threads, shimmered into being.
Next came the Chaos Bagua Diagram.
The Qi Gathering Pill in his mouth was already melting rapidly, its essence almost spent.
I hope this is enough…
He gritted his teeth. There's no way to buy another. All of Grandpa's savings were spent trying to heal my Dantian…
His plan was to merge the Yin-Yang Taiji and Chaos Bagua Diagrams, forming a self-sustaining Formation Sphere—a Special Golden Core.
The Formation would stabilize the woven Qi threads, allowing the Core to persist despite his damaged Dantian.
The Taiji and Bagua existed in this world as well, but their principles differed from those of the Earth he remembered. Liang Xiao had fused the theories of both worlds, creating a new, unique configuration.
When half of the Yin-Yang Diagram stabilized without any repulsion, Liang Xiao exhaled in relief.
First step—success.
He continued weaving.
The Qi threads lengthened, the Pill diminished, and soon, half of the Bagua Diagram glowed faintly within his inner world.
Still, there was no resistance.
Encouraged, he focused all his will on the final half.
Time flowed without sound.
Bit by bit, the lattice of Qi threads grew denser, forming the sphere's outer shell. The structure was almost complete—until, suddenly, everything changed.
At the final junction, repulsion erupted.
The six free ends of the three Qi threads trembled violently, pushing against each other as if magnetic poles had reversed. The threads refused to connect, breaking the cycle before completion.
Liang Xiao's heart sank.
According to his calculations, the final step—linking the six ends into a closed loop—was essential. Only then could the Special Golden Core become a self-contained sphere, eternally rotating and stable.
Now, that final step resisted him.
If his spiritual power were a hundred or a thousand times stronger, perhaps he could have forced the fusion. But he was far too weak.
Then—an idea sparked.
If I can't close it outwardly… what if I fold the ends inward?
With the Formation's protection, the inner layer might stabilize the loose threads.
It wasn't perfect. The Golden Core wouldn't be truly complete. But at least it wouldn't collapse.
He acted at once.
He looped the final ends of the Qi threads inward, embedding them into the inner lattice of the sphere. The structure wavered—but held.
A fragile Golden Core, the size of a billiard ball, floated in the void of his Dantian—woven entirely from light.
It was thin, almost transparent… yet breathtakingly beautiful.
Just as Liang Xiao exhaled in relief, the unexpected happened.
The Taiji and Bagua patterns within the sphere began to rotate—
slowly at first, then faster—
until the entire Golden Core started to move on its own.
What's happening?!
Liang Xiao tried to control it, but an invisible force took hold.
The Core drifted downward, toward the depths of the Dantian, completely beyond his control. His weak spiritual power couldn't even resist it.
Meanwhile, in the small apartment's living room—
An old man in his sixties sat at the table, his one good eye glancing anxiously at the clock.
Plates of breakfast lay untouched.
"Why hasn't your brother come out yet? The college entrance exam is today…" he muttered.
Beside him, twelve-year-old Liang Yuan shook his head. "Brother said he's in seclusion. He told me not to disturb him."
"But the exam…" The old man sighed heavily. "If he doesn't go, he'll lose his chance this year."
Liang Yuan bit his lip. "If Brother becomes a Cultivator, maybe the exam won't matter anymore?"
"Nonsense," the old man snapped softly. "Even Cultivators need university. Where else would they get their resources? And…"
He stopped mid-sentence, the weight of unspoken worry in his voice.
"If he fails today… and misses the exam too…"
Liang Yuan's hands clenched. "Then I'll call him—"
"Wait." The old man's tone softened. "Let's give him a little more faith."
But his body betrayed his words—he stood up, pacing around the table, glancing at his worn wristwatch every few seconds.
"It's already eight-thirty…" he murmured.
The exam started at nine.
Inside the closed room, Liang Xiao's world trembled.
The Golden Core descended until it reached the very center of his Dantian—
and there, it stopped.
At that moment, a strange sense of balance washed over him.
He instinctively understood—this was the true core of the Dantian.
The place where all energy converged.
The woven Golden Core locked into place, the Taiji and Bagua patterns spinning faster and faster, stabilizing like a miniature star.
Then, light.
At that same instant—
Liang Yuan, who had just stepped toward his brother's door, froze.
In his mind's eye, a sphere of light appeared.
For the first time in his life—
he could see.
It wasn't through his eyes—it was within his mind, a glowing orb that radiated gentle warmth.
At the table, the old man stiffened as well.
He, too, saw it—a brilliant orb flickering faintly within his consciousness.
And they weren't alone.
Every person within a hundred-meter radius—neighbors, workers, children, even patrolling Cultivators—suddenly saw the same light sphere appear in their minds.
"What is this?"
"What's happening?"
"An evil spirit?!"
Panic spread instantly through Peaceful Neighborhood.
In this era, strange visions almost always heralded disaster.
Patrolling Cultivators froze midair, alarmed.
Even Yang Yukun, the district director and Foundation Establishment cultivator overseeing the area, felt it.
His spiritual sense surged outward in an instant—
and found nothing.
The mysterious orb seemed to exist only within consciousness, leaving no trace in reality.
But Yang Yukun's expression turned grave.
"This… this feels like the legendary Small Reflection Phenomenon…"
His heart pounded. If that was true… then someone nearby had achieved a miraculous state of resonance—something that should be impossible for a mere Mortal.
Inside the room, Liang Xiao's vision went white.
A sudden force erupted from the fragile Golden Core, surging outward.
It swept through his body like a flood, washing away impurities, cleansing his marrow, reshaping his flesh.
A baptism.
For two or three seconds, his consciousness wavered.
Outside, the same orb of light faded from everyone's minds—gone as suddenly as it had come.
When Liang Xiao's senses returned, his breathing was deep and steady. His skin felt cool and light, his limbs filled with strength.
And within his Dantian—
the once fragile, thread-woven Golden Core now spun quietly, radiating golden brilliance.
He had changed.