The Ancient Pagoda Tree

On the morning of the second day of the New Year, Chen Fengyun went with his parents to his maternal grandmother’s house. It wasn’t far, just over a hundred kilometers away, nestled at the foot of the back hills of Mount Qingcheng, in a small village that leaned against the mountains and faced the water.

“Fengyun, let’s go hiking after lunch,” someone suggested. Chen Fengyun’s mother had five siblings, so among his generation, there were six or seven cousins. The proposal was met with enthusiastic agreement—after all, as someone said, “Coming to the foot of Mount Qingcheng and not climbing is like not coming at all.” The weather was perfect, too, with brilliant sunshine, ideal for hiking.

Chen Fengyun, however, had cultivation on his mind. Except for using attribute points to improve his cultivation, he hadn’t found a way to practice yet, so he was hoping to discover a place rich in spiritual energy.

Mount Qingcheng was covered with ancient trees, some centuries old, their gnarled branches coiling like ancient dragons plunging into the earth, each with its own unique shape and grandeur.

Two hours later, the group reached the peak behind his grandmother’s house. The mountain air was invigorating, but Chen Fengyun still felt a pang of disappointment—though the spiritual energy here was greater than in the cities, it still wasn’t enough for him to absorb and cultivate.

“Cousin, is it true that this tree is five or six hundred years old?” his younger cousin asked their eldest cousin.

“Yes,” the older cousin replied, “It’s said that this old pagoda tree was planted during the Hongwu era of the Ming Dynasty by a revered immortal of Mount Qingcheng. It’s over six hundred years old now. Many believe it’s spiritually endowed and worship it as a sacred tree.”

Chen Fengyun suddenly understood why the old pagoda tree was wrapped with so many red silk ribbons and why there were ashes and half-burnt incense sticks at its base. So that was the reason.

“Such a huge tree—how many people would it take to encircle it?” someone wondered aloud. Eager to find out, the group joined hands around the trunk, delighted by the challenge.

But as Chen Fengyun stepped forward to join them, he was startled—the cultivation system within him suddenly vibrated. There was a surge of special energy within the tree.

“Absorb,” he commanded inwardly.

He already knew that absorbing these special energies didn’t harm the objects themselves, so he seized the opportunity to draw out the energy from the old pagoda tree. Instantly, he gained four attribute points.

“To think that the special energy in this old tree surpasses even that of the jade pillow and the Arhat statue! Time to advance my cultivation,” he thought, overjoyed, and promptly raised his cultivation to the third level of Qi Refinement.

He quickly noticed his attribute points had dropped to two. Advancing from the first to the second level had required only one point, but from the second to the third, it took two. Clearly, the higher the cultivation, the more attribute points were needed.

Moreover, as his cultivation advanced, several of his meridians opened further, the spiritual energy flowing within them thickening from the width of a single hair to that of three.

Naturally, with his cultivation rising, his physical constitution grew stronger as well. By now, his strength was quadruple that of an ordinary person—almost superhuman.

“With two points left and the button to advance my cultivation now dim, it must take more than two points to reach the fourth level. Better to invest them in spiritual power; the stronger my spirit, the greater the benefits,” he mused.

He immediately allocated his remaining points to his spiritual strength, boosting it to the fifth tier of the mortal grade. His mind instantly felt more powerful; his perception of the world sharpened as though a veil had lifted.

With spiritual power at the fifth mortal tier, Chen Fengyun’s senses expanded to a radius of five hundred meters. Within that range, he could detect even the slightest movement, and he could sense the fluctuations of spiritual energy in the air.

“It’s said that the stronger a cultivator’s spirit, the more attuned they are to the laws of heaven and earth, the easier it is to achieve unity with nature. So spirit is fundamental, and cultivation is the foundation. From now on, I must prioritize these two attributes,” he resolved.

His cultivation panel transformed once more:

Spiritual Root: Mortal Grade, Tier Ten
Spirit: Mortal Grade, Tier Five
Cultivation: Qi Refinement, Level Three
Techniques: Universal Nourishment Method (Mortal Grade, Tier Three), Golden Bell Cover (Mortal Grade, Tier Three)
Skills: None
Artifacts: None
Attribute Points: None

Just days ago, he was an ordinary youth. Now, he had become a cultivator, possessing the third level of Qi Refinement, mental strength five times that of a normal person, and even mastery over the legendary Golden Bell Cover technique.

Yet what excited Chen Fengyun most was the mysterious cultivation system itself. Where had it come from, this enigmatic and powerful presence that could absorb special energies to directly enhance his cultivation, spirit, techniques, even his very root of aptitude?

Although Chen Fengyun was new to the world of cultivation and knew little of its arcane knowledge, he understood that spiritual roots determined a cultivator’s potential. Normally, only rare treasures of heaven and earth could improve one’s root, and ordinary energy had no effect. Yet it seemed the cultivation system could do just that, though he had not yet met the requirements for an upgrade.

Descending the mountain, Chen Fengyun felt so light he could have leapt five or six meters at a time, bounding downhill like a deer if he wished.

Still, he chose not to show off, walking quietly with the group. If anyone found it odd, it was that he paused by every old and robust tree along the path, running his hands over their bark.

Alas, he found nothing. “So, not every ancient tree contains special energy. Certain conditions must be met,” he thought with a sigh. He’d hoped to gather more attribute points, but it wasn’t to be.

“Still, I should be content. Gaining four points from the old pagoda tree, advancing my cultivation and spirit, is already a great harvest.” He shook off his disappointment.

But as they reached the roadside at the entrance to the village, a group of motorcycles screeched to a halt beside them. A cocky young man called out to his second cousin, “Well, if it isn’t Zhou Xiaoli! Remember your old boyfriend? Haven’t seen you in a year, and you’ve grown even prettier. Come hang out with us, why don’t you?”

“Zhang Huagang, you scoundrel! Still a thug after all this time, haven’t the police locked you up yet?” his cousin shot back, scornful.

He was her ex-boyfriend, whom she’d only later discovered was a small-time hood. She’d broken up with him and left to work elsewhere, but now here he was again.

“Hey, brother, this girlfriend of yours has got spirit. Let’s have her keep us company for a while.”

“Yeah, you always talked her up, but you never got to have her, did you? Today’s your lucky day.”

“Come on, beauty, give us some face—come party with us all night.”

There were three motorcycles, six young men in all, every one of them as disreputable as Zhang Huagang, their leering gazes fixed on Zhou Xiaoli.