Chapter 31

  High in the stratosphere, Adam hovered silently, the wind brushing past as he took in the sweeping horizon. Mountain ranges folded into valleys, rivers shimmered like silver threads, and distant cities blinked like stars upon the land.

  Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed it—two tiny specks against the canvas of the sky.

  He turned his gaze sharply.

  Only one remained.

  And then… nothing.

  Gone, as if they had never been there.

  Adam narrowed his eyes, focusing—his Foundation Establishment vision stretching far, impossibly far—yet not even a trace lingered. Just clear skies and distant clouds.

  For a long moment, he hovered in place, gaze locked on the spot.

  Then he exhaled softly.

  “…Whatever it was, it’s beyond me right now.”

  He turned away, letting the wind carry him once more.

  There was no use chasing ghosts in the sky.

  Adam returned to his abode with a quiet sense of purpose.

  After letting Red out of the beast pouch and playing with him for a while, he finally made a decision—it was time to help Red grow toward Foundation Establishment, and to push himself to the next step as well.

  He entered closed-door cultivation, beginning the difficult task of constructing the trifecta of Qi pathways, one for each of the three dantians. A delicate process. A dangerous one. And the key towards the next realm.

  Three years passed in near-seclusion.

  He emerged only once a week or so, checking in with his friends and the sibling trio when he could. On one such visit, Zhou Ren brought news that caught his attention.

  "The war between Bo Jin's and Lian Hua's clans against Kai Yun's clan… it's over," Zhou Ren said, a flicker of emotion in his voice. "Bo Jin’s side won."

  Adam raised a brow. "I thought Lian Hua’s clan was fighting alongside them?"

  "They were," Zhou Ren nodded. "But they suffered too many losses. In the end, they disbanded and merged with Bo Jin’s clan for survival."

  Adam made a mental note of that. Alliances in this world were as fragile as glass. Power often determined which friendships lasted.

  On another day, when he stopped by to visit Xiaoyan and Xiaomei, he was met with a surprise.

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  Both Aria and Xiaomei had reached Qi Condensation Seventh Realm.

  Lan Xiaoyan had already broken through to the Eighth.

  It was… fast. Too fast.

  Adam couldn’t help but reflect on it. They were blessed, that was for certain. Talented. Heaven-favored. And Xiaoyan?

  Maybe… maybe he was the Heaven’s Chosen.

  He had all the classic signs, didn’t he?

  A loyal fatty best friend. A mysterious sword with a beautiful sword spirit instead of a grandpa in a ring. A steady heart and an unshakable will.

  Adam chuckled to himself.

  “Well, damn. I might be in a xianxia story… but he’s the protagonist.”

  Two Years Later

  Adam had completed his trifecta of Qi pathways—three channels, each directly connected to a separate dantian: upper, middle, and lower. It was a rare feat among cultivators, usually attempted only by those with heaven-defying talent or a death wish. Adam, ever the outlier, achieved it through calculated effort, dangerous experimentation, and sheer will.

  During that time, Red underwent a great transformation. The little fox, once the size of a housecat, now stood nearly waist-high with sleek white fur and two elegant tails swaying behind him. His advancement to the Foundation Establishment Realm came with a surge of spiritual presence—and intelligence. Red’s eyes gleamed brighter now, understanding flickering within them.

  ---

  Adam, always seeking versatility, realized he lacked a dependable long-range spell he could cast hundreds of times without exhausting himself.

  So, he designed one.

  A simple metal rod, summoned mid-air using Metal Qi, and then coated in Death Qi—a sleek, sharp projectile with a ghostly sheen. It required little shaping, little refinement, and minimal Qi.

  When fired, the rod pierced targets like a bullet—and if it hit, the Death Qi corroded their internal energy, slowly weakening them from the inside. Not fatal on its own, but devastating over time or in numbers.

  Adam refined it to the point that he could conjure and launch dozens at once. Even better, he could create the rods from nearby metallic materials to conserve his own Qi. He dubbed the technique:

  “Grave Nail.”

  Adam emerged from seclusion, his aura deeper and more refined than ever. The three dantians within him pulsed in harmony, and the intricate Trifecta Pathways he had forged connected them like rivers through a vast internal landscape.

  But his journey was far from over.

  As he delved into the mysteries of the Third Realm of Foundation Establishment, he finally understood the next step—Expansion.

  The second realm was about connection—linking dantians through stable pathways. But the third realm? It was about capacity. Power. Flow.

  To progress further, a cultivator had to expand their Qi pathways, widening the channels to carry more energy, allowing spells to hit harder, defenses to hold longer, and support abilities to amplify further. It was the difference between a single river and a branching delta—volume and reach.

  But there was a catch.

  Expansion required use. The more he channeled Qi through his pathways in real-world scenarios—combat, movement, everyday life—the more those channels would stretch, reinforce, and grow.

  It wasn’t something that could be done just by sitting cross-legged in meditation.

  No, this stage demanded action.

  Adam tightened the straps on his boots and called to Red, who now trotted beside him like a tiny sovereign, two tails swaying with proud grace.

  “Alright, Red,” Adam muttered, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders, “Time to break these new pathways in.”

  He would need to fight. He would need to live through Qi—walk, cook, fly, even breathe with it if possible.

  Only then would his body truly adapt and ascend to the next level.

  The cafeteria was lively today, filled with chatter and the clinking of bowls and chopsticks. Adam sat with his usual group — Mei Lan, Han Feng, Shen Xinyi, Zhou Ren, Bo Jin, and Lian Hua — sharing a rare moment of relaxation.

  "Congratulations on the victory," Adam said, raising his cup slightly toward Bo Jin and Lian Hua.

  Bo Jin gave a proud smile. "Thanks. Though it was a hellish campaign. I think I aged five years."

  "Your looks didn't change," Lian Hua teased, poking at her rice. "Still as punchable as ever."

  The group laughed.

  "And you guys," Adam added, glancing at Mei Lan, Han Feng, Shen xinyi and Zhou Ren. "You’re racing through the realms. I swear, I blinked and you're all already above the thirteenth realm of Qi Condensation."

  "You're one to talk," Shen Xinyi said, arching a brow. "Foundation Establishment, second realm. Not exactly slow, Adam."

  He shrugged. "Hard work and a fox for company."

  Red gave a soft yip from beside him, clearly pleased with the acknowledgment.

  As they continued eating, a group of outer disciples at the next table started whispering loud enough to be heard.

  "Did you hear about that restaurant near the border of Eastwind Sect's territory?" one of them said.

  "The one run by mortals?" another asked.

  “...yeah, it's called Celestial Delight Co.. Weird name, right?” one said, slurping noodles.

  “Co?” the other blinked. “What’s that even mean?”

  “No clue. Some say it’s short for company. Might be the founders are from the uninhabited regions—maybe descendants of otherworlders or something.”

  Adam paused mid-sip. Co.? He hadn’t heard that kind of abbreviation since Earth. In this world, businesses usually had grandiose names like Heavenly Orchid Pavilion or Jade Spirit Hall, not corporate-sounding terms.

  He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Could be nothing... or a clue.

  “Apparently, the food is different too,” another disciple added. “Like, actually new. Not just spiced differently. They’ve got something called pasta and cheesecake.”

  That made Adam raise an eyebrow—but the next bit made him choke.

  “And there was music playing... I swear, the instrument was called a piano. And they were playing something called ‘Mozart’.”

  Adam coughed hard, nearly spilling his soup.

  “You good?” Shen Xinyi asked, patting his back.

  “Yeah—just… hot soup,” Adam wheezed, waving her off.

  But inside, his thoughts churned like a storm.

  A piano. Mozart. Pasta. Cheesecake.

  Once is a fluke. Twice is strange.

  Three times? That’s not a coincidence.

  Someone from Earth is here.