Chapter Two: Gazing Upon the Sword Immortal and Condensing the Dao Fruit

Anle had never understood the purpose of the Threads of Time, no matter how many times he’d tried to unravel their mystery. In truth, he was equally bewildered by the entry labeled “Fruit of the Dao of Time” that hovered above the glowing screen before him.

This time, after drawing the third wisp of Time from the leading courtesan, Celestial Yunrou, he found something changed. This wisp was golden, and as it ignited on its own, it brought about a strange vision—he could now see the sword maiden up close, as though peering through a magical scroll. His entire mind was drawn into the scene, observing from a third-person perspective, much like watching a film.

Anle was silent, not that he could have spoken even if he wished. The fragrance of rouge and powder hung in the air of the boudoir, where gauzy curtains fluttered as if blown by a gale, though the doors were firmly shut. Yunrou wore only a thin robe, her snow-white skin gleaming beneath bare shoulders, her proud figure impossible to ignore.

Unlike her masked appearance as she soared over West Lake, Yunrou now revealed her true, breathtaking face. Rumor had it that few had ever seen the courtesan’s real features—even those who spent thousands of taels to board her pleasure boat only ever glimpsed her behind a veil. Anle was astonished to find himself gazing upon her unmasked beauty.

What good fortune! He had saved a small fortune in silver.

But his eyes were soon drawn away from her face, to the stream of azure energy rising above her head. What was this technique? Within the room, invisible currents swirled, causing the curtains to whip about as if a hurricane swept through.

“She’s cultivating!” Anle immediately deduced. There could be no other explanation for such a strange posture.

Could it be that the Threads of Time let him watch Yunrou’s cultivation process? But aside from glimpsing her beauty, what was the use? He could not learn to cultivate simply by watching her. With a trace of disappointment, he sighed. The long-awaited effect of the Threads of Time seemed less impressive than he’d hoped.

He watched as Yunrou’s cultivation intensified. Azure streams of energy materialized out of thin air, converging into her palms and gradually infusing her body until she shone with a radiant light. Finally, Yunrou opened her eyes, and the storm within the boudoir stilled.

A smile played at the corner of her lips. She stretched her arms above her head, a languid yawn escaping with an enticing murmur. “At last, I’ve broken through to the Spirit Bone and stepped into the Inner Core Realm. Eighteen years old and already forming my core—there are few in all of Great Zhao who can claim the same!”

Yunrou was delighted, murmuring to herself, “Yunrou, you’re the best! One day, you’ll be the greatest sword maiden in all of Great Zhao! Let’s go!”

She clenched her fists and punched the air, brimming with fighting spirit. On this day, having broken through, Yunrou was at the pinnacle of her pride. Yet this childish display left Anle utterly stunned. Who would have thought the famously aloof courtesan had such a charming, naïve side?

As the vision of Yunrou’s adorable antics faded, the scroll slowly dissolved, closing at last. The golden Thread of Time, like incense burned to the end, vanished without a trace.

….

The surrounding din returned; night had fallen, and the city’s lights began to twinkle. Anle’s eyes regained their clarity, but his mind lingered on what he’d just witnessed.

He had seen Yunrou break through in her cultivation and form her Inner Core at eighteen—a feat she regarded as the pride of her life. And truly, it was something to boast about. Though Anle couldn’t cultivate himself, he knew enough to recognize the rarity of such talent in Great Zhao.

But why would a genius who formed her core at eighteen end up as a courtesan on a pleasure boat? Was she trying to raise the bar for the entire profession, forcing the other courtesans into a hopeless competition? Courtesan was a pleasant enough title, but in the eyes of many, it was still a lowly trade.

“Perhaps Celestial Yunrou harbors secrets unknown to the world,” Anle mused.

“Even if she does, such mysteries are not for a mere mortal like me to unravel.” He didn’t dwell on Yunrou’s identity for long. Instead, a thought occurred to him, and the glowing screen appeared before his eyes once more.

….

[Name: Anle]
[Threads of Time: 2]
[Fruit of the Dao of Time: Cultivation Prodigy (0/10)]
[Note: Cultivation Prodigy (Dao Fruit): While cultivating, your speed doubles; your sensitivity to spiritual energy increases, as does your comprehension.]

….

His pupils contracted. The screen had changed; one thread of Time had been consumed, and the golden wisp he just acquired was indeed gone.

Now, under “Fruit of the Dao of Time,” the words “Cultivation Prodigy” appeared.

So, by witnessing Yunrou’s breakthrough, he had condensed the Dao Fruit—Cultivation Prodigy?

Reading the description, Anle was overjoyed. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and immediately sensed something different.

There, between heaven and earth, unique streams of energy brushed past him.

Spiritual energy—the legendary breath of heaven and earth!

It was said that spiritual energy permeated every corner of the world, but only cultivators with talent could sense it. Those born without it could not even perceive its presence—just like Anle had been.

He had tested himself before; his body lacked the gift for cultivation, which was why his family steered him toward scholarship instead. The original Anle was quite talented in his studies, having passed the county exams and even earned his way to the capital for the imperial exams, hoping to win at least second-rank scholar. While not as prestigious as the first rank, it was enough for a modest official post—perhaps, if he caught the eye of someone powerful, he might even rise higher.

But now, being able to sense spiritual energy meant he had the gift for cultivation at last!

Anle’s heart surged with excitement as he pondered.

He was beginning to guess how the glowing screen worked.

Perhaps the Threads of Time recorded moments of intense emotion in a person’s life. After all, emotion rises and falls constantly as one grows—life is like a tranquil river, and each surge of feeling is a wave upon its surface: highs, lows, anger, helplessness. Maybe all these moments could be captured by the Threads of Time.

Perhaps Anle could use these threads to witness such moments and condense new Dao Fruits from them.

“Hahaha! Whatever the case, I, Anle, can finally cultivate!”

He couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

On the banks of West Lake, crowds swirled around him as Anle stood amid the throng, laughing unrestrained, venting his excitement and exhilaration.

In this vast world, men are but mayflies between heaven and earth, mere grains in the boundless sea; yet with cultivation, one might ascend to the clouds and live a free and splendid life.

He raised his wine flask, drinking deeply, the wine slipping down his throat and warming his chest.

Still laughing, Anle walked on.

Night deepened.

The youth in blue drank and joked beneath the lantern lights, his figure melting into the glow.

….

….

When the wine was gone and the evening breeze sobered him, Anle found himself before a bookstore. Though he now possessed the Dao Fruit of a “Cultivation Prodigy” and could cultivate, he knew nothing of the path—he needed guidance.

So, he entered the bookstore.

The shopkeeper was at the counter, abacus clacking under the lamplight as he tallied his accounts.

Anle stepped inside, drawing the shopkeeper’s attention. “We’re closed, sir. Please come back tomorrow if you wish to buy books.”

Anle considered, then asked, “Do you sell any beginner’s books on cultivation?”

The shopkeeper paused, holding up the lamp to study Anle. Though he looked young, he was not quite the right age for a beginner in cultivation.

“Basic cultivation is taught in academies throughout the land, sir. If you haven’t started by now, there’s no point in trying,” the shopkeeper said with a smile. “Still, this is a bookstore. We do have government-issued primers on cultivation. If you want one, I’ll have it ready for you to collect tomorrow.”

Anle brushed off his blue robe and bowed in thanks. “Much appreciated.”

The shopkeeper chuckled, waving a brush in one hand and the lamp in the other. “No need to thank me.”

But Anle pressed on, “Actually, I’m in urgent need tonight. Could you sell me a copy now?”

The shopkeeper hesitated, about to refuse, but Anle added, “I’ll pay extra.”

The words caught in the shopkeeper’s throat. He smiled and changed his tune, “Please wait a moment.”

He disappeared into the back, soon returning with a blue-covered volume.

“This is ‘The Great Zhao Primer on Cultivation,’ the only book on the subject we have for sale. It’s an official publication, but most serious cultivators find it useless. Still, if you want it, two taels of silver will do.”

Two taels for a book—neither expensive nor cheap, but certainly the extra price for after-hours service.

Anle didn’t haggle. He needed a path into cultivation, so he counted out the silver without hesitation and handed it over. The shopkeeper weighed the silver, returned a few coppers in change, and Anle took the book back to his inn, lit a lamp, and began to read.

“The Great Zhao Primer on Cultivation” was not an original creation of the current dynasty but a revised and amended version of older methods passed down from previous courts.

It introduced a technique called the “Guiding Breath and Circulation Method”—a very basic practice. There was also a set of boxing forms called the “Founder’s Long Fist.” The grand name thrilled Anle at first, but reading on, he realized it had been reduced to just three common opening moves, leaving him disappointed. In Great Zhao, every cultivator could at least perform these three forms; no wonder the founder’s reputation was so widespread. The “Founder’s Long Fist” was practically the nation’s morning calisthenics.

With the “Cultivation Prodigy” Dao Fruit, Anle studied the moves by lamplight and quickly grasped most of the basics. But instead of practicing the forms, he sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to sense spiritual energy according to the Guiding Breath and Circulation Method.

Inhale, exhale… At first, he was clumsy, but with a few more tries, his breath grew smoother. Yet, no matter how smoothly he breathed, he couldn’t capture the spiritual energy.

He frowned.

Suddenly, the glowing screen appeared again before his eyes. Anle glanced up.

[Name: Anle]
[Threads of Time: 2]
[Fruit of the Dao of Time: Cultivation Prodigy (0/10)]
[Technique Mastered: Guiding Breath and Circulation (0)]

….

He froze, then his heart leapt with joy.

A new entry had appeared on the glowing screen! Its functions could be developed further!

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