Volume 1, Chapter 25 – Spirit Mirrors the Body

As Bai Shengju spoke, Bai Xiang had already assumed the distinctive Sword Contemplation posture.

Standing on one leg with only a toe touching the ground, her whole body seemed seated in midair, ethereal as if in a mirage.

This posture too was handed down from Shenming Dojo. They said you couldn’t pull it off at all before entering the Dao, and even after, doing it to standard was difficult—you had to train from young, while the body was supple, to build the muscle memory.

This body had been trained that way. With a woman’s supple figure it should have been easy, yet the moment Bai Xiang tried it this time, stabbing pain shot from every joint.

Her body felt like a rusted machine.

The ointment she’d spread seemed to be seeping into skin and flesh; its presence was like something jammed inside that machine, making her feel heat flooding her whole body even as she held the posture—with ripping pain surging in waves.

But the effect was excellent.

The Sword Contemplation posture by itself sped the flow of heart-aspect energy through the body and boosted the efficiency of warming and nourishing the flesh; with the ointment’s aid it released still more warmth, like wildfire coursing through her.

Wherever that flame darted, an intense itch followed.

Face, arms, arches, lower abdomen—nowhere was spared.

Especially since the portion she’d swallowed felt like a whole barrel of oil dumped on the fire.

Flames carrying medicinal power plunged into her lower abdomen—scalding, pain, itch, numbness… cycling in turn to torment her.

Such pain was not something ordinary people could endure.

At last Bai Xiang understood why Bai Shengju had sounded a shade tense.

So-called female innate deficiency—the reason training the sword to seek the Dao was twice as hard for women—must refer to the monthly courses, a flat loss of vital blood and qi.

That loss struck more than ten times a year; over the same span, a woman’s cultivation naturally lagged a man’s.

Already inferior in stamina and strength, and with a further portion carved away, female swordsmen were few, and those who truly achieved something were rarer than phoenix feathers.

Lock the Yin, Sever the Dragon—this must mean using a secret method to lock that portion of yin essence and temporarily cut off the loss of blood and qi.

The Daoist canon speaks of this as well.

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Sever the dragon—what dragon?

The red dragon of menstrual blood.

Cut off that leakage, and the body can cultivate without loss—only then is there a further chance at the Great Way.

But Grandpa clearly underestimated me…

Maintaining the peculiar Sword Contemplation posture, seated in air and enduring alternating pains, Bai Xiang’s expression stayed utterly calm.

Pain.

What pain could compare to a terminal diagnosis, your first love gone, your friends’ betrayal?

What bitterness could compare to becoming a cripple, jolting awake at midnight, grieving in secret?

This degree of torment wasn’t even one percent of what I suffered in my last life.

What’s more—

Her mind stirred. In a view only she could see, her spirit-body—her very soul—suddenly flew out from within and alighted opposite her.

Holding the same sword-meditation posture, the soul coolly observed her flesh, yet its eyes could hardly pierce the barrier of skin and muscle.

Just then, guided by the distant soul, her body opened its eyes—and clearly saw: inside the head of the soul-body across from her, there was a glowing seed!

A heart-aspect seed!

Ordinary folk could hardly glimpse it, and even most seekers of the Dao could scarcely sense it—yet she saw it with the naked eye, by this method!

The spirit-body was translucent; the heart-aspect seed in its head shone, liquid light streaming from it, branching into fine rivulets that ran through every meridian.

The two Bai Xiangs observed each other’s bodies at once—the flesh imprinting on the heart-aspect, the heart-aspect illumining the flesh—bit by bit discerning the entire inner landscape until even the position of every capillary was mapped in her mind.

Then… can I direct the medicinal power’s circulation?

She tried—and she could.

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Without hesitating, Bai Xiang used will and thought to tug the medicinal power, moving as much of it as possible down into the lower abdomen.

The Bai family’s secret medicine likely had a measure of luck to it; it didn’t guarantee success in severing the dragon.

Whoever created the method could never have foreseen someone running it in a way this close to cheating.

Nor would it be used only for Lock the Yin, Sever the Dragon!

When her soul returned, Bai Xiang could still clearly glimpse the entire inner scene.

Having just heard Bai Shengju expound the Nurture the Spirit method, she took advantage of it—redirecting the heart-aspect energy that had been nourished by the medicine and was now seeping forth to the surface of the skin all over, and directly began training Nurture the Spirit tier two.

Time slipped by… Bai Shengju, hiding indoors, grew ever more anxious.

He had reason.

When he administered the secret method for Bai Nianchan back then, he had hidden inside like this as well.

Men and women should keep a distance. Even as her father, watching a scene like that up close wasn’t proper.

But he’d heard sounds, hadn’t he?

When Nianchan endured, the pain wrung one ragged howl after another from her, until her voice was hoarse; it took half a month to recover.

And Xiang’er?

Why wasn’t she crying out?

It had been almost two hours—how was there no movement at all?

Could she have blacked out from the pain?

Bai Shengju was in agony, truly regretting not calling Bai Zhuqing or Bai Leying to help relay messages and keep watch.

If Bai Xiang hadn’t suddenly thought that he might be worried and called out to let him know, he would have rushed out to check, consequences be damned.

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But how could her tone be so light?

So airy—had he not brewed the medicine correctly?

While Bai Shengju doubted his life choices inside, outside, wondrous changes were unfolding on Bai Xiang.

The ointment’s medicinal power was slowly absorbed, its residue flaking away to reveal the flawless body seated in air.

Her figure grew even more supple than before.

Her hair shone with more luster than before.

Her skin paled a shade.

Her thighs rounded a shade.

Her lines grew softer—and straighter—a shade.

Most crucially, all her flesh was more compact under the blessing of heart-aspect and medicinal power; when she flexed, only a hint of taut muscle showed.

This had ground away needless Outward Aspect.

Every hidden injury and latent ailment was polished clean.

The yin essence locked, feeding back into the body.

The red dragon severed—nothing lacking, nothing leaking.

Mind and body holding the One.

By now, she had reached Nurture the Spirit tier three.

The skin-tempering of tiers one and two was perfected; the flesh-tempering had already been pushed halfway through.

And she felt this wasn’t her body’s limit.

For now, let’s stop here.

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With a soft exhale, Bai Xiang opened her eyes.

Two streaks of golden light flared in the courtyard—silent thunder at high noon—so that a few flies were shocked to the ground.

She released the posture, set her bare feet on the ground, raised a fist, and felt a rush of indescribable clarity and ease.

“It’s done, Grandpa.”

Dressing, she immediately went to call Bai Shengju.

He came out, stunned for a moment by her renewed spirit and bearing—then joy like a tidal wave.

“Successful?”

“Yes.”

Bai Xiang nodded and bowed to him.

“Thank you, Grandpa.”

“I still have some questions about tempering the flesh—please instruct me.”

“Good, good!”

“Hahaha! Xiang’er—good!”

Bai Shengju bobbed his head in quick assent. Looking at Bai Xiang again, he couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

Only, laughing, he reached up and wiped at the corner of his eye.

Facing the sky.

He stared at the shifting white clouds for a long while.