The instant the lightning core fell, Shen Qingci was entirely engulfed by purple-black lightning, wrapped in a blinding sphere of electricity that completely obscured her figure.
The shockwave of the lightning force swept outward, blasting the ten-zhang-deep charred pit down by another two zhang. The walls of the pit were black as coal, with cracks spiderwebbing all the way to the edge of the mountain.
Jinglian stood in midair, her eyes bloodshot, not daring to look away for even a single second.
Within the lightning, Shen Qingci gritted her teeth tightly.
Her bones and muscles felt as if they were being ground to dust inch by inch. Just as her meridians were torn open, they were forcibly reshaped by the violent lightning power...
The newly condensed cyclone in her dantian shuddered violently as the lightning force poured into it.
Instead of letting this lightning power cause her dantian to detonate, she guided it along her meridians, tempering her flesh, blood, and bones layer by layer.
She possessed a Lightning Spiritual Root and had applied a substitute talisman in advance.
While twelve tribulation lightning bolts would be a death sentence for anyone else, for her, they were both a trial and a fortuitous opportunity.
The purple-black lightning gradually faded, transitioning from deep purple to a light violet.
The cyclone in her dantian grew a size larger than when it had first condensed, solidifying to great perfection, its purple light faintly echoing with the sound of thunder.
The final wisp of lightning force was absorbed into her dantian.
The tribulation clouds dispersed completely.
A rainbow arched across the sky above the ruins, stretching for three thousand miles. Beneath the rainbow, a dense purple mist rose, enveloping half the mountain peak.
Jinglian stared at the dispersing tribulation clouds, glanced at the Jinglei sword blocking her path, and turned to land in front of the hall. Her steps were somewhat unsteady, and she only managed to stand firmly by leaning against the doorframe of the side hall.
She gritted her teeth and muttered, “A-Ci, you've really outdone yourself.”
In the center of the ruins of Yunqi Cave, Shen Qingci walked out of the twelve-zhang-deep charred pit.
Her robe was charred and tattered. Beneath the blackened scabs, her newly formed skin glowed with a faint purple luster, and arcs of electricity crackled around her cuffs.
Standing atop the ruins, she looked around.
The main room was gone, the inner chamber was gone—the cave dwelling she and her senior sister had so carefully decorated was entirely gone!!!
How infuriating!
Damn Heavenly Dao!!!
She wanted to complain to System Mom (*Ӧ)σ.
Zzzt... Zzzt...
Shen Qingci was zapped a few more times.
The system's voice chimed in her sea of consciousness at just the right moment: “Host, please do not be so rebellious.”
Shen Qingci obediently changed her attitude, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Dear Mother System, are there any rewards for breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage?”
The system remained silent for a long time.
“No.”
Shen Qingci's eyelashes drooped, her lips pursing slightly. She looked exactly like a puppy drenched in rain, not daring to make a sound.
The system paused for another moment.
“However, the Heavenly Dao of this world will no longer target you in the future.” The voice was very soft, lacking its usual mechanical tone.
It sounded slightly annoyed, yet also protective.
A system of unknown rank going to settle scores with the Heavenly Dao of a world on behalf of its host—the very thought was absurd.
Yet, Shen Qingci genuinely believed that System Mom was capable of doing exactly that.
She did not point it out and simply said, “Thank you!”
Silence filled her sea of consciousness for a brief moment before the system popped up a face emoticon: “ᴗ.ᴗ”. It flashed once, then disappeared.
Shen Qingci withdrew her focus and looked down at herself.
Her robe had been blasted into charred tatters by the twelve tribulation lightning bolts. Half of one sleeve was missing, and there was a massive tear down the back.
Fortunately, she had protected her innermost clothing with spiritual energy. Otherwise, if she ended up running around naked on Wanjian Peak on her very first day of Foundation Establishment, she, the Eldest Young Lady of the Shen family, would never be able to show her face in public again.
She retrieved an Earth-grade Low-rank robe from her storage ring and cast a hand seal to put it on.
Spiritual energy surged outward from her dantian, flowing several times faster than usual. While it was decent for defense during battle, wearing it daily consumed too much spiritual energy.
She took it off and folded it neatly.
Instead, she pulled out a Mystic-grade High-rank robe, which fell smoothly and elegantly as she shook it out. She cast a cleansing spell to clear away the charred ash on her body, tied her hair bun back up, and changed into the new robe.
With a gentle nudge of her Lightning Spiritual Root's aura, the lightning patterns on her cuffs glowed with a faint purple light. The robe was form-fitting and light, consuming almost no spiritual energy.
Jinglei flew down from midair, circling her several times. It rubbed its hilt against her shoulder before sinking into her dantian to be nourished.
Jinglian's voice transmission reached her: “A-Ci, come to the Sword-Falling Terrace. I have prepared a quiet room in the west wing. While your realm is still unstable, come over and consolidate your cultivation.”
“Your disciple is on her way.”
Qinghe and Wancui were still waiting on the mountain path. Seeing Shen Qingci emerge, they quickly stood up.
Qinghe's eyes were red as she held out a food box. “Senior Sister Shen, the Jade Oriole Cakes are still warm. Would you like to have a bite first?”
Shen Qingci stopped, took the food box, and picked up a piece to pop into her mouth.
It was soft, chewy, and sweet—exactly her favorite taste.
“It tastes great.” She handed the food box back. “Keep the rest for me. I'm going to stay at Master's place for a few days and will eat them when I return.”
Qinghe nodded quickly. “Don't worry, Senior Sister. Wancui and I will start cleaning up the ruins first. We'll salvage whatever we can and put them away nicely for you.”
“Thank you for your trouble.”
On her way to the Sword-Falling Terrace, she ran into several Wanjian Peak inner sect disciples, who cupped their hands in congratulation. “Congratulations on establishing your foundation, Junior Sister Shen.”
Shen Qingci returned each of their greetings.
One senior sister at the mid Foundation Establishment stage offered her congratulations, but her gaze lingered on the lightning patterns on Shen Qingci's cuffs. She walked several steps away before her companion nudged her, pulling her back to reality.
The quiet room in the west wing contained two stone couches, a low table, and a new futon placed in the corner.
The window was half-open, and a mountain breeze swept through the room, carrying the bitter fragrance of pine wood.
She sat cross-legged on one of the stone couches.
The cyclone in her dantian was still trembling slightly. Although she had fully refined the lightning force from the twelve tribulation lightning bolts, her meridians and dantian still needed time to adapt to this suddenly surging power.
Closing her eyes, she regulated her breathing and guided her spiritual energy to circulate through her meridians, slowly smoothing out the residual violent aura of the tribulation lightning.
This meditation lasted for three days.
When she opened her eyes again, a gentle drizzle was falling outside the window.
The cyclone in her dantian had settled, hovering quietly in place. Its purple light was restrained, no longer showing any signs of instability.
Shen Qingci spread her palm, her mind shifting slightly.
An arc of lightning danced at her fingertips, a full three times thicker than during her Qi Refining stage.
The sensation had transformed from a mere tingle into a tangible force of pure thunder.
Shen Qingci casually tossed the lightning arc toward the corner.
Bang!!!
The low table flipped over, the futon was blown far away, and a massive hole was blasted into the wall, letting the mountain wind howl inside along with a flurry of dust.
Sitting on the stone couch, she stared at the hole, feeling incredibly guilty.
A figure suddenly landed before her.
Jinglian's natal sword was unsheathed by half an inch. Her gaze swept over the half-collapsed wall, lingered on her completely unharmed youngest disciple, and only then did she slowly slide the blade back into its scabbard.
Shen Qingci raised her head to meet her master's evaluating gaze, her fingers instinctively scratching at the stone couch.
“It is fine,” Jinglian said calmly. “Both of your senior sisters have done the same.”
“On the day Lanyi established her foundation, she cleaved the sword-practice platform in two. When A-Yuan formed her core, she froze and cracked the entire quiet room. If a sword cultivator's cave dwelling doesn't collapse a few times, they can hardly be called a sword cultivator.”
She added, “I have already commissioned Peak Master Shi of Liedi Peak to rebuild Yunqi Cave. Consider it my second Foundation Establishment gift to you.”
Shen Qingci nodded quickly. “Thank you, Master.”
Jinglian shifted the topic. “As for the Seven Styles of Awakening, do you want me to teach you, or will you wait for your senior sister to exit seclusion?”
“Senior Sister,” Shen Qingci replied instantly.
Jinglian showed no surprise. She took a recording stone from her sleeve and handed it over.
“Inside is the breakdown and my personal insights on the Seven Styles of Awakening. The evolution of sword moves varies from person to person. Different spiritual roots yield different realizations, but the origin of sword intent remains the same.”
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