Yang began making his way alone as the rest of the disciples also started dispersing in various directions across the mountain. Each following their own glowing token arrow in search of their cave residence.

  As Yang walked, he thought back to the rules Elder Yu Shan had gone through. The sect's expectations and regulations. And honestly, it was far better than he'd expected from years of reading webnovels in his previous life.

  Those stories always featured harsh sects. Disciples fighting each other for resources. Elders playing favorites. Brutal competition that left the weak to die. Corruption at every level.

  But White Cloud Sect seemed different. The rules were strict but fair. Resources were distributed based on contribution, not wealth or connections. Everyone got the same basic foundation, the same opportunities to learn and grow.

  Yang thought about his first impression of the sect and realized it had been a lot better than expected. The luxury ship. The kind guidance. The organized welcome. Even the cave residences providing privacy.

  He was particularly glad to have a private residence. He would have hated sharing with strangers. Trying to hide his secrets, his painting, and his enhanced strength. Privacy was a gift he hadn't realized how much he needed.

  Yang followed the glowing green mist arrow that led him further away from the outer sect hall. Toward almost the opposite side of the peak. The path was well-maintained. Stone steps where the terrain was steep. Smooth dirt paths where it was level.

  He walked past a few residences. Some cave entrances were obvious. Stone doors carved with simple patterns. Others were more subtle, blending into the mountainside.

  A couple of older disciples in outer sect white robes walked past. Going to or coming from somewhere. Some met Yang's gaze and nodded back at each other. Polite acknowledgment without hostility or arrogance.

  There was a distinct lack of arrogant young masters here. The kind anyone who was a connoisseur of trashy webnovels would expect to encounter immediately after transmigrating. No sneering noble sons looking down on peasant disciples. No threats of "you're courting death" for minor slights.

  Just normal people going about their business.

  Yang's inner instincts were at peace, so he was rather enjoying himself. Walking relaxedly. Taking in the beauty of his surroundings.

  He came across beautiful gardens in front of some residences. Carefully maintained with flowering plants and small trees. Pools that reflected the sky. Some of the better residences seemed to have formations in front of them. Shimmering barriers that distorted the view. Some places Yang could barely see, like looking through water. Privacy formations, probably. For disciples who'd earned enough points to purchase such luxuries or had enough talent to make their own.

  Yang made his way until the token pointed directly at a cave entrance. A stone door that would apparently be his home for as long as he didn't reach Foundation Establishment.

  He walked closer and examined it. The entrance was surrounded by greenery. Vines and moss growing naturally. If he hadn't known it was the entrance to his cave residence due to the token's green light arrow, he wouldn't have recognized it as a door. Would have just gone past it as if it were just part of the mountain.

  Yang wondered how many such residences he'd missed on his way here. He realized he'd only noticed the obvious ones. The decorated entrances. The ones disciples had let remain visible.

  He placed his token on the stone door. The stone faded as if it weren't there. Revealing a passage beyond.

  And Yang stepped into his new home.

  The door opened into a main chamber that functioned as both living space and cultivation room. The floor was leveled stone. Smooth and clean. Along one side was a wooden kang bed with thin bedding. Simple but serviceable.

  One wall had a raised platform for meditation against it. Stone carved into a slightly elevated surface where a cultivator could sit for hours or days if the stories were to be believed.

  Another section contained a low stone table with a couple of cushions. For eating or reading or whatever else Yang needed a flat surface for.

  Storage niches were carved into the walls at various heights. Shelves and cubbyholes for keeping belongings organized.

  Yang noticed a doorway leading to a small side chamber. He investigated and found a bathing area with a simple water formation. A stone basin that would fill with water when activated. Basic but functional.

  Lighting came from glowing lamps embedded in the walls. Some kind of spirit stones providing gentle illumination without fire or oil. Ventilation was handled through narrow air channels carved upward to the surface. Fresh air flowing naturally.

  Overall, the cave was functional, quiet, and isolated. Designed for long-term cultivation with minimal luxuries. Everything a cultivator needed and nothing they didn't.

  Yang placed his new clothes, manuals, and the small pouch of spirit stones he'd received on a shelf. Along with his own pack which contained his old clothes and the much heavier spirit stone-filled pouch from Senior Cheng Mo.

  He looked around, realizing he needed to find some corner or crevice to hide his personal spirit stones. He didn't know how safe the cave's security was. Better to be safe than sorry. The sect might be fair, but desperate people existed everywhere.

  Yang quickly moved to the side chamber. Relieving himself in the designated area. Then activating the water formation to take a bath.

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  The water that flowed was clean and cool. Perfect temperature. Yang hadn't had the luxury of a private bath since Tianlu City. Where Senior Cheng Mo had paid for him to stay in the most luxurious accommodations Yang could imagine.

  As he washed, Yang wondered again why Senior Cheng Mo had helped him. After all, Yang had only bought a single painting. For much less than its true value, even though it was an exquisite piece that must have been worth a fortune.

  What had Senior Cheng Mo seen in him? What made the painter decide Yang was worth the help?

  Yang planned on hanging the painting in his cave where only he could see it. He knew there was something off about it. Not just his inner instincts reacting to it, but something fundamentally strange. The way it called to him even now.

  He wanted to keep it away from other cultivators' eyes. Away from questions he couldn't answer.

  After bathing, Yang changed into one of his clean tunics and trousers. Finally feeling refreshed and more settled.

  He returned to the main chamber and settled down on the kang bed. Pulling the cultivation manuals given by the outer sect hall toward him.

  Time to find out how much of this he could understand.

  Yang also planned on attending the daily language classes. To improve his reading and writing. Three months of tutoring had given him basics, but he needed to learn more.

  He opened the first manual. The paper was good quality. The characters clear and well-printed.

  As Yang read through it, he realized the sect had taken considerable care in creating this manual. It used simple and clear language to talk about cultivation and the process of drawing in Qi. It was obvious the sect was well aware that most of their disciples wouldn't be highly literate. The manual was written so that even a person with basic reading knowledge could decipher it.

  Yang read slowly. Working through passages. There were some words he didn't understand, but the context helped him piece together meaning.

  He learned that Qi was basically the life energy that exists in everything. People, nature, the air, the earth, even stars. If it existed, it had Qi.

  Cultivators absorbed, refined, and used this Qi to grow stronger. To increase their lifespan and to perform extraordinary feats.

  All things that existed released Qi. Some with higher concentration, some with lower. There were also types of Qi. Absorbing such Qi depended on the cultivator's path, affinity, and techniques they practiced.

  Mortals capable of cultivation absorbed Qi into their body, usually through breathing and meditation. But the manual stated there were other ways as well to take in Qi but they were not mentioned in the manual.

  Yang wondered if he'd somehow absorbed Qi from the beast cores. That would explain his enhanced strength and the painful transformations.

  But apparently, the Qi needed to be refined into its base and clean form. Which he hadn't done. He wasn't even aware of Qi's existence at that point, let alone had any idea how to refine it.

  According to the manual, those capable of cultivation have a different body structure than normal humans. They contained a network of meridians that functioned like internal pathways for spiritual energy. Similar to how veins carried blood or wires carried electricity in his original world.

  When a cultivator drew Qi from the world, it first entered these meridians through the nose. Circulated throughout the body. Strengthening cells, organs, and physical structure as it flowed.

  Over time, cultivation cleared blockages and widened these channels. As more and more Qi flowed through them, allowing larger amounts of energy to move smoothly and efficiently.

  Damaged or clogged meridians disrupted this circulation. Causing unstable Qi flow, injury, or loss of cultivation. Or rather an inability to access or replenish Qi due to damaged passages.

  And at the very center of this system was the dantian. Located in the lower abdomen. It worked like a living battery and refining furnace combined.

  After Qi traveled through the meridians, it gathered in the dantian where it was compressed, purified, and stored as usable cultivation energy. Just as cells stored and released power in a body, the dantian held the cultivator's accumulated strength and determined how much energy they could use at a time.

  As cultivation progresses, the dantian becomes denser and more powerful. Forming the foundation for higher realms of strength and spiritual transformation.

  According to the manual, the dantian was far more essential than meridians. While meridians could be healed and reformed, a dantian once damaged was a herculean task to overcome. Some cultivators never recovered. Their path ended permanently.

  Yang realized how his absorption of beast cores had affected him. Apparently, the more you improved your cultivation, the more efficient you became at refining Qi.

  He on the other hand had been forcing raw, unrefined energy into his body. No wonder it had been so painful. No wonder his inner instincts had warned against giving cores to Li San. A normal person would have died. Their body unable to handle the unrefined power.

  But Yang had survived. Somehow his body had adapted. Refined the energy despite his ignorance. Or maybe his rebirth had changed him in ways he didn't understand. It's clear there was something different about Yang. He thinks if there was even a chance eating the core would have harmed him the inner instincts would have warned him.

  Yang set the manual aside for a moment. Absorbing what he'd learned. He wondered if whatever differences he had to others would affect his cultivation as well. But he has barely set his foot in the sect, he hardly had enough information and cultivation knowledge to figure out how and what makes him different.

  He picked up the manual again. Reading the practical instructions.

  He followed the manual's guidance. Sitting in the prescribed style. Cross-legged on the meditation platform. Spine straight. Hands resting on his knees in a specific mudra. Fingers positioned precisely.

  Yang started taking deep breaths in the way the manual had described. Trying to pull in Qi from the air around him.

  Breathe in through the nose. Hold. Visualize the energy flowing down into the dantian. Breathe out through the mouth. Release impurities.

  Repeat.

  As Yang got deeper into meditation, he realized that while he didn't feel any energy that could be Qi, he certainly felt different. The breathing in this way was somehow clearer. More refreshing. Like taking in fresh mountain air after being in a stuffy room.

  His mind quieted. The constant chatter of thoughts slowing. Then stopping.

  Just inhale. Exhale.

  Before long, Yang was immersed in meditation. Having no idea how much time passed. The world narrowing to just his breath and the stillness within.

  His body sat. Breathing in prescribed patterns. Following ancient techniques refined over millennia.

  And deep inside, in a place Yang couldn't yet perceive, something stirred. A spark of awareness. A connection forming between him and the energy that permeated all existence.

  His journey as a cultivator had begun.

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