Chapter Sixty: Foundation Establishment, First Level!

Here’s how it all happened:

After crossing the creek, Feng Ke’er parted the thick grass and found herself facing a bustling world of ants. Unlike the small fire ants who dwelled within tree trunks, these large fire ants lived differently. Beyond the grass rose an earthen mound, over a meter tall—the first large fire ant nest Feng Ke’er had ever seen. Hundreds of large fire ants busied themselves, moving in and out like shuttles. Thanks to her enchanted wristguard, none of them showed any sign of aggression toward her.

But Feng Ke’er had no intention of letting them go. Firstly, every part of a large fire ant was a treasure; secondly, their vital energy was far greater than that of the small fire ants, making them far more valuable for leveling up.

Feng Ke’er never took pride in acting honorably; on the contrary, she always believed in striking without warning. Without a word, she silently drew her chipped azure longsword and stabbed at the nearest large fire ants’ jet-black vertical eyes. Catching them completely off guard, she killed two in quick succession, before the others even realized what was happening.

At that moment, Feng Ke’er made another breakthrough and entered the late stage of Qi Training.

Compared to her previous advancement, this one was far smoother. The six streams of genuine energy within her abdomen did not run amok; they only trembled violently three times, expanding their orbital radius outward threefold, before resuming their orderly, high-speed rotation. Simultaneously, an even more dazzling and intense five-colored light burst forth from her dantian.

The poor fire ants, still stunned, were annihilated under the radiance, their vital energy all drawn into Feng Ke’er’s dantian. The six streams of genuine energy immediately thickened by a third.

Upon reaching the late stage of Qi Training, Feng Ke’er could finally begin to study alchemy, talisman crafting, and artifact forging.

Her upgrade also allowed her to learn a new technique from the tome: the Myriad Spikes Art—a group attack skill akin to petals scattered by a heavenly maiden. After advancing, her spiritual power soared, so that now she could unleash over thirty ice spikes in one go. However, the “myriad” in its name was mere exaggeration. In reality, it was at best a “thirty-spike technique,” and its accuracy was poor, with a hit rate below twenty percent. Finding it nearly useless, Feng Ke’er practiced it only twice before giving it up.

As for alchemy, talisman drawing, and artifact forging, the tome did not mention them at all. Fortunately, Feng Ke’er had copied ample reference material, which included quite a few relevant explanations.

The documents made it clear, though: these arts consumed a great deal of spiritual power. With her current cultivation, she could only perform basic operations—she could refine only three types of foundational pills: the Rejuvenation Pill, the Spirit Recovery Pill, and the Spirit Nourishing Pill. For talismans, she could only draw the Shape-Shifting Talisman. Artifact forging was more generous; she could make basic items like swords, armor, hats, and boots, but their grade would be low—mostly inferior magic weapons, with about a ten percent chance of producing a medium-grade one, and, with luck, one or two high-grade items out of a thousand. As for spiritual artifacts, she simply lacked the power to create them.

Despite these limitations, Feng Ke’er threw herself into the grand enterprise of manufacturing, unable to extricate herself—without spirit stones, progress on the path of cultivation was impossible. Pills, talismans, and magical weapons could all be bartered for spirit stones, could they not? It was rare to have exclusive rights to all the resources of the Ant Forest. If she didn’t use this opportunity to practice, how would she, an unremarkable outer disciple, acquire such resources after leaving?

So, whenever she ran out of large fire ant bladders—a crucial and stable heat source for both alchemy and forging, except talisman drawing—she would put down her work and go hunt a few more fire ants.

Unknowingly, over ten days passed. Despite practicing day and night, Feng Ke’er achieved almost nothing: she wasted nearly a hundred batches of herbs, producing only one furnace with ten Rejuvenation Pills, whose effects were far inferior to the raw Rejuvenation Grass—more valuable as keepsakes than for actual use. As for Spirit Nourishing and Spirit Recovery Pills, she tried refining ten or so batches without producing a single pill. In alchemy, she had failed.

She managed to draw a hundred or so Shape-Shifting Talismans, but their effect was little better than the basic shape-shifting incantation, and they were much more troublesome to use. Reflecting calmly, Feng Ke’er couldn’t see the point—why bother? She might as well not draw them.

Artifact forging brought little success either. Using the fire ants’ tough yet flexible carapaces, Feng Ke’er made herself over twenty pieces of fire ant gear: armor, greaves, bracers, and short boots. Using the unique basic forging technique from the tome, she ultimately produced only one pair of medium-grade Swift Boots; the rest were mostly inferior-grade, and many were outright failures.

Why had it turned out this way? Feng Ke’er puzzled endlessly. After poring over all her reference material, she finally found the answer in a dry, obscure technical manual: her cultivation was far too low, and the heat source for forging and alchemy was critical—the fire ant bladders were, sadly, inferior.

So, all her hard work over the past ten days had been a waste.

Spirit stones, pills, magical weapons—all were fleeting. Persistent cultivation was the true path. There were no shortcuts in this world! Chastened, Feng Ke’er picked up her chipped sword and began hunting monsters day and night—she was determined to make up for lost time.

From then on, she became a leveling maniac. In less than five days, she killed fourteen thousand six hundred and eighteen large fire ants—an exact number, for she kept careful count out of sheer boredom. Monster hunting was tedious enough, but doing it alone in a deserted forest was worse. Once she’d discovered the fire ants’ weak points and donned her fire ant gear, fighting them became a purely mechanical “stab and withdraw” routine, devoid of skill or challenge. She needed something else to focus on, lest she become numb as wood.

Then, after killing yet another fire ant, something unexpected happened: her dantian suddenly surged with genuine energy—she was about to break through.

This was a milestone—a true advancement! She was about to build her foundation!

But she was utterly unprepared.

Her references described foundation building as a major event, requiring careful preparation: seclusion, pills, spirit stones, protective arrays, and so on. They warned that attempting it without adequate preparation could result in failure and injury to one’s spiritual roots, even the destruction of the dantian and years of wasted effort.

There was no mention at all of building the foundation on a whim. Attempting it was as good as courting death.

Feng Ke’er had never expected to reach this stage just fifteen days after entering late Qi Training. She had never even seen a Foundation Pill, much less prepared one to three of them. Her spirit stones had all been “borrowed” by the meat bird. As for protective arrays, she had none at all.

But the six streams of genuine energy within her were now completely restless, forcing her to act.

To hell with “what the references say”! Feng Ke’er dropped her sword, sat down on the spot, arranged her hands in a meditation posture, and began to guide the energy.

Unexpectedly, the six streams of genuine energy became increasingly obedient. With the slightest guidance from her mind, they settled back into their circular orbits like docile oxen led by a nose ring.

Feng Ke’er breathed a sigh of relief and thought, “Meng the Great was right—one should never trust books blindly.”

But was this foundation building? Had she succeeded or not?

As she wondered, the six streams of genuine energy suddenly changed: unlike previous breakthroughs, they didn’t expand outward, but abruptly contracted inward by two-thirds.

Her dantian was suddenly left with a large empty space. Unable to withstand the suction, it shrank rapidly as well.

The pain was excruciating; Feng Ke’er nearly fainted from it.

At that moment, a string of golden words appeared in her mind. She focused—wasn’t this the Clear Heart Incantation?

“Don’t panic, girl—I’ll protect you,” came a voice from behind a swirling mist. “Start reciting. Remember: as always, let your intent follow your breath, guide the flow, and proceed gently.”

Hearing this, Feng Ke’er felt like a drowning person who had finally found solid ground; her heart was at ease. She had no time to question why she was hearing this voice—on the edge of life and death, such details could wait.

She recited the Clear Heart Incantation over and over, and gradually her mind cleared. Though the compression of her dantian continued and the skin-peeling pain soon spread throughout her body, the golden words of the incantation rained down countless golden sparks. These sparks, flowing with her genuine energy, bathed every acupoint and joint as though warm, gentle hands were soothing her. The pain faded, and Feng Ke’er felt enveloped in a comforting warmth.

Had she succeeded in building her foundation?

Unable to resist, Feng Ke’er opened her eyes to observe any changes in her body. To her astonishment, she could now see through herself! For the first time since beginning her cultivation, she saw her dantian clearly—about ten centimeters below her navel, a white, disc-shaped mass.

There, six streams of genuine energy revolved—one large, tinged faintly with purple, and five smaller, each of a different color. They did not twist together as she’d imagined, but spun independently in perfect circles within her dantian.

Her dantian, pulled by their force, had visibly changed shape, even cracking as though about to split into six!

“Oh no!” she almost burst into tears.

“What are you panicking for? Keep reciting the Clear Heart Incantation!” the voice barked. “I’m protecting you—what’s there to fear?”

That reassurance was all she needed. Instantly calm, Feng Ke’er closed her eyes and continued her recitation.

After who knew how many repetitions, the six streams of genuine energy began to slow. Peering inward, she noticed a profound transformation—they had gone from gaseous to liquid.

Then, with a thunderous “boom,” her dantian split into six. The central white disc glowed faintly purple, surrounded by five colored smaller discs. Each resembled a small vat, brimming with its own crystalline liquid. The entire dantian region had expanded several times over; even the smallest section was larger than her original dantian. Under the dazzling light, they shone like gemstones, nearly blinding Feng Ke’er.

The pain vanished, replaced by a sensation of swelling throughout her body.

The voice gave a soft “hmm,” then fell silent. The golden incantation disappeared from her mind.

Feng Ke’er’s heart tightened—the voice seemed to have left.

Was this foundation building? Had she succeeded? “Hello…?” She was about to ask when her genuine energy suddenly swept through her body, filling every joint and acupoint with explosive force.

Power! She had never felt so strong.

A pleasant chime sounded, and a clear female voice announced: “Congratulations, master has advanced to Foundation Establishment, Level One.”

“Xiao Qian, congratulations on your successful foundation building and officially stepping onto the path of true cultivation,” followed the familiar, loving voice of the old headmaster. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you…”

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On a certain peak, someone bowed to thank the wild grass behind the mountain for their pink votes.

Tongtian Codex Chapter 60: Foundation Establishment, Level One! Update complete.