It was late at night. The yin spiritual energy was at its peak, while the yang spiritual energy was declining.

  Perfect for what Ning needed.

  He stood alone in the clearing behind his hut, exhaling a long, steady breath.

  Ning then flowed into motion.

  After some experimentation, Ning discovered that the Jade Skin and Icy Meridian Techniques were most effective at this hour. He was already aware that some technique improvements vary depending on the time it was practiced.

  For this body-refining art, it was in the dead of night.

  Made perfect sense.

  Didn't make it any less miserable.

  "Is this how shounen protagonists feel during those ice-bath training arcs? Truly, they had balls of steel," Ning muttered, feeling the chilling breeze.

  The Jade Skin and Icy Meridian Techniques had five levels:

  Level One: Cold Adaptation.

  Level Two: Skin Refinement.

  Level Three: MarrowStrengthening.

  Level Four: Bone Tempering.

  Level Five: Internal Organ Fortification.

  The first level was the foundation, adapting to the cold. Before circulating cold qi, strengthening meridians, or refining frost resistance, he first had to let his body accept the cold rather than fight it.

  Easier said than done.

  Compared to qi refining, body refining was far more painful. It involved breaking and rebuilding, pushing the body toward a state where it would eventually become impervious to all things.

  In ancient times, body cultivation flourished both due to the abundance of spiritual materials and because those who pursued it simply had the will to endure pain.

  It was masochistic, but then again, this was the cultivation world, where people trained in lava, shattered boulders with their foreheads, and other nonsense.

  Compared to that, Ning's training was considered very mild.

  He sank into the first stance, Frost-Settling Frame, arms extended, breathing steady as taught by the scroll.

  Inhale for three counts.

  Hold.

  Exhale for six.

  He transitioned into the second form, Jade Drip Shift, rotating his torso, fingers tracing the path mentioned in the scroll.

  Thirty-six movements in total.

  Each paired with a precise breathing pattern.

  At first, his movements were stiff, his breath ragged. The cold stabbed into his muscles, joints, and even his bones.

  But Ning gritted his teeth and pressed on.

  He circulated the rudimentary cold qi through his meridians, guiding it slowly, carefully.

  The Icy Meridian Technique's first stage was simple in concept yet brutal in execution:

  Guide the cold. Don't resist it.

  Fight it, and the meridians cracked. Accept it, and they expanded.

  Basically, hydraulic stress-testing, except for the qi channels.

  His breath misted steadily as he continued the routine. Inhale. Accept the chill. Exhale. Spread it. Again and again.

  Y'know, Ning would have questioned this training if his numbers hadn't been rising.

  [Jade Skin & Icy Meridians (Level One): 32/100]

  After finishing the set, Ning walked toward the field. There, one could see the Frozen Breath Plant in its budding stage.

  [Hidden Ice Mist Technique]

  This was the spell Ning had acquired through the Spiritual Plant Hall. It wasn't free, but the price was essentially halved; he only paid seventy-six spirit stones.

  Ning had been a bit bummed out about not getting a freebie, but it was fine. After all, he wasn't Gilgamesh born with the Golden Rule.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  At once, Ning exhaled a stream of icy mist. After his body-refining practice, the spell seemed stronger, radiating a deeper chill. That was another thing he had discovered through experimentation.

  The qi generated using Jade Skin and the Icy Meridian Technique was the most suitable to use in this spell.

  "Just one month left," Ning murmured, glancing at the plant. With this grain, he could speedrun the body-refining technique.

  After releasing the spell, he walked back to his house.

  Training with yin techniques required balance.

  Too much cold could damage his muscles, stunt his qi, or worse, freeze his meridians from the inside.

  Which was why he had prepared something special.

  He returned to his hut and lifted the lid of a clay pot simmering over a low flame.

  A rich, fragrant warmth enveloped him immediately. Inside was bone broth made with small cuts of meat from a Fire Chicken, a low-grade yang-attribute spiritual beast known for its warming qi.

  He filled a bowl and drank.

  Heat flowed down his throat and bloomed through his chest, melting the lingering frost within him. Warmth spread throughout his body.

  This food was almost on par with drinking water at 3 a.m. The warm broth cleared away the faint chill surrounding his body. It was so good.

  If this were a food show, Ning's shirt would have burst. Truly a healing dish.

  Cold training at the most yin hour. Warm nourishment afterward. Yin and yang in equal measure.

  'Kung Fu Panda didn't lie to me, truly balance is the essence of all things.' Ning mused.

  ...

  Archery.

  The execution seemed simple; it really was just shooting a pointed stick from far away.

  But that was far from the truth.

  Precision, breath control, balance, awareness, timing, and a calm mind that didn’t waver even in intense situations were all essential.

  Fortunately, “Ji Ning” came from a martial family where archery was drilled alongside basic forms. After all, archery was one of the go-to methods for hunting, an indispensable skill for any martial practitioner. Especially, since mortal martial artists were incapable of using qi.

  So, although he wasn’t a master, “Ji Ning” knew the fundamentals. For example, precautions like never storing a bow with its string attached were basic knowledge.

  Now that Ning had inherited that foundation, it felt less like learning something new and more like rediscovering muscles that had simply been asleep.

  As a cultivator, his control over his body surpassed any mundane archer. After all his body-refining training, his senses were sharper, his muscles steadier, and his meridians more responsive.

  And contrary to what many assumed, a bow wasn’t just a dexterity-based weapon, it required considerable strength. Fortunately, this was a cultivation world, where tearing apart continents bare-handed was something high-level experts casually did. Ning was nowhere near that level, of course, but his body-refining was still far from mere decoration.

  He stepped into the clearing behind his hut, bow in hand. His fingers curled around the bowstring and drew it back in a smooth, unbroken line. His muscles tightened.

  Thrum.

  The arrow shot forth, slicing through the air and embedding itself in a tree trunk with a crisp thwack.

  Ning lowered the bow slightly, feeling the faint vibration humming along the wood.

  “Mm. Not bad,” he murmured.

  It wasn’t exactly what he had aimed at, but the direction and form were correct. A cultivator’s body adapted quickly, their muscle memory was frighteningly strong.

  After all, simply knowing how to handle the weapon was the foundation of martial arts. All the fancy qi enhancements like qi light differentiation, qi tracing, qi piercing, came only after that.

  He nocked another arrow. This time, the target was closer.

  The improvement was steep, and the reason was simple:

  Spatial awareness.

  Ning had a faint, innate intuition for space and distance.

  And suddenly, Ning understood why.

  Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity.

  That was the talent shown on the panel. Until now, it hadn’t seemed useful.

  But after reaching the fourth stage of Qi Condensation, Ning had begun sensing faint spatial shifts. When someone approached, even quietly, he would have a vague awareness of it.

  That was his spatial sensitivity.

  From the name alone, the talent was clearly a late-game powerhouse. In this world, there was a saying: Space and time are king, while destiny reigns supreme.

  Ning had once assumed the talent came from his transmigration. But now that supernatural powers were in play, he wasn’t so sure. Even though the catalog claimed that twin supernatural powers were unheard of, Ning wasn’t bound by rigid thinking. In a world as vast and strange as this, rules were more like guidelines.

  So Ning was genuinely curious about the origin of this talent. It was so dormant that if not for Know Thyself, he would’ve never realized he possessed it.

  He continued shooting without pause. Another arrow flew.

  It hit the branch he aimed at, snapping it cleanly.

  Simply put, in DnD terms, when Ning rolled for awareness, he was hitting 10+ by default.

  It was clearly some kind of prototype “mind’s eye” ability. As his senses grew stronger, the talent would presumably grow as well. In the end, he might even be able to sense when the Flash screwed up the timeline.

  “Still… time sensitivity feels even vaguer,” Ning muttered. His talent’s full name was Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity.

  He had a faint perception of space, but time? Almost nothing. Still, judging by how the spatial side awakened, the temporal side would likely follow eventually.

  Maybe he’d end up being able to tell crop maturation times down to the hour.

  'Anyway, it seems choosing the bow was a good choice.' Ning smiled.

  His reasoning was simple.

  Using a bow and arrow was kind, or rather, forgiving.

  Unlike swords or spears, where one mistake meant immediate death or dismemberment, arrows fired from a distance offered room for error. He could retreat, reposition, and adapt.

  Of course, that safety came with a cost. Archers needed a secondary weapon for close combat. Ning didn’t mind. If anything, he enjoyed the learning process.

  There were practical issues too: low-tier bows and arrows had limited effectiveness, and he would eventually need better equipment. But this was true for nearly every weapon. Unless one wielded a growth-type weapon, first-tier gear only worked reliably on first-tier foes.

  As for truly unorthodox weapons, chains, darts, strange whips, Ning avoided them for one reason:

  Inheritance.

  Bows and arrows weren’t mainstream, but they weren’t obscure either. Generations of predecessors had created techniques, manuals, and paths he could follow.

  Compared to starting from scratch, that alone made the choice worthwhile.

  'It seems the futurre is promising.' Ning smiled.

  ...

  Thanks for reading~