Special Qi Circulation
"Still, that damn lecher gave decent experience."
Finally, level 10.
How long had it been since his last level-up?
A tiger leaves its pelt behind when it dies; the lecher left experience points.
Wondering if there was anything else, he scanned the cave interior.
Deeper in, there was a single extinguished candle.
He lit a fire.
"Son of a bitch. Just scraps after all."
Aside from some silver taels and worn books, there was nothing special inside the cave.
"What's this?"
Wondering if it might be a Kunlun manual, he flipped open the book.
[I am Ma Yeom-pung of Kunlun.]
It was the bastard's diary.
"Hmph..."
From how he'd fucked up in Kunlun and fled, to how he'd dodged his sect's pursuit squads while wandering the land, and even the times he'd given in and kept dual-cultivating for nourishment amid it all.
The lecher's sordid past was laid bare in black and white.
In a pathetic touch, as if he'd foreseen his end, the tattered diary closed with these words:
[If anyone finds this record, please tell Ability Hermit Jin-in of Kunlun that this unworthy disciple begs forgiveness.]
"Ability Hermit?"
The name rang a bell, suggesting the guy was a fairly renowned Taoist.
"Fucking idiot."
To have a master from one of the Nine Great Sects—no less a capable one—and kick it away with his own two feet.
Some people had to scrape by bare-handed, without a proper background.
He was about to toss the diary aside when—
"Hm?"
The back cover felt subtly thicker than the front.
A difference so minute that only his hyper-developed senses could detect it.
Suspecting something hidden inside, he ripped open the edge of the cover.
"Oh!"
A weathered document slipped out from within the cover.
Ancient paper that might crumble at a touch.
Faint incantations were inscribed upon it.
It was a dual-cultivation nourishment technique.
"Tch. Incomplete, as expected."
Having eaten his fill of the jianghu, he could now tell shit from miso just by skimming a manual.
But this dual-cultivation art wasn't some low-grade sorcery. Each incantation brimmed with pure energy—it was an orthodox Daoist secret art.
"Kunlun Bedchamber Arts, huh."
He'd heard that Taoists had methods of cultivating the Dao through relations with women.
This seemed to be one such manual, but unfortunately, only a fragment remained, not the full version.
"Should've learned the real deal properly."
Like the lecher had confessed in his diary, the guy probably hadn't planned to end up this way from the start.
But what could you do?
This was his fate.
"Well, thanks to you, I leveled up."
After a brief prayer for the lecher's soul, he sat cross-legged.
Time for qi circulation and meditation, since it'd been ages since his last level-up.
Typically, qi circulation meant circulating internal energy through the body's channels to build power.
But his was a little special.
Thump.
He felt his heartbeat.
Thump. Thump.
Sounds around him faded one by one.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Whooshhh.
It was like plummeting off a cliff—the sensation raced up his spine, jolting his brain.
'Still not used to this shit.'
He slowly opened his eyes.
The dark, damp cave walls were gone.
In their place stretched an endless white desert.
"Hmph."
He looked up.
Ten stars twinkled against the deep blue sky.
"One more star."
This was the phenomenon that appeared when he entered qi circulation.
Having invested his level-up stat points into strength, he uncrossed his legs and stood.
"Fuck. Levels are getting harder every time."
A system with no quests, no rewards—just pure grind.
High freedom, if you were generous; a total clusterfuck if you were stuck inside it like him.
But the harder the levels, the more each stat point mattered.
"Oh yeah!"
Feeling euphoria surge through his body, he threw a punch.
Even a light jab boomed like thunder—his enhanced physique was palpable.
"Let's check."
First thing after stats: his constitution.
A special constitution granting superhuman senses, easy martial arts mastery but poor inner power accumulation.
"No changes."
He'd hoped for growth with the level-up, but this cheat passive showed none yet.
"Alright."
Stretching his arms and neck, he loosened up.
Life-or-death fights weren't decided by stats alone. He needed to adapt to his strengthened body to unleash its full destructive potential.
For a good while, he moved around, meticulously feeling how the power transmitted through bone and muscle.
"Stats are good now."
This was his secret to surviving the weak-eat-strong jianghu despite lacking inner power.
"Fuck. Level 10 and no bonus?"
Wasn't that standard for main characters?
He spat on the white sand and glared at the sky.
His ten symbolic stars twinkled down mockingly.
Complaining wouldn't change shit, though.
As he prepared to exit meditation—
"Hm?"
One of the ten stars flickered, then beamed light down on him.
Like a spotlight on stage.
"What the—?"
And then.
Strange information flooded his mind.
A first for him—he panicked briefly but shut his eyes and focused.
"...This?!"
It was the incantations from the lecher's diary—the bedchamber arts.
But not the incomplete version.
"Holy shit!"
Level 10 Bonus: Incomplete manuals become complete upon meditation.
Kunlun Bedchamber Arts — Full restoration!
The complete Kunlun secret art, lost sections included.
"Why this...?"
It was astonishing.
He'd definitely read an incomplete version—yet a perfect incantation surfaced.
"No way!"
It hit him: this was from the qi circulation state.
Apparently, in that state, he could perfectly restore even incomplete manuals.
He looked up hurriedly.
One star had dimmed, like a lantern gone out.
"Whoa. There is a bonus."
Definitely new—unlocked past level 10.
"Trade points for martial arts, huh."
Not just any; he'd thought of heavenly arts like Heavenly Demon Divine Skill or Yijing Bone Marrow Scripture, but no dice.
Seemed like he needed a trigger, like seeing a manual—like the Kunlun Bedchamber Arts.
Cost: one star.
Reward: even incomplete manuals made whole.
"Jackpot."
Thinking it over, it was huge.
True divine arts in the jianghu were never public—only select elite disciples in sects learned them.
Incomplete fragments were different.
Wandering the land, you'd occasionally spot scraps of once-legendary arts floating around.
"Gotta hunt those down."
Even Hao Sect channels had limits on martial arts.
Not anymore.
Legendary divine arts danced in his mind's eye. His fist clenched on instinct.
It felt like breaking through limits, finding a path to true strength.
A great payoff right after the change.
"Yeah. Gotta seek 'em out to unlock 'em."
He looked up.
Nine stars twinkled now, not ten.
Someday, he'd fill that sky with his own.
With new horizons open, boredom lifted; vigor surged.
Satisfied, he slowly emerged from meditation.
The surroundings came into view.
Sunrise had lit the dim cave with a bluish glow.
Headless corpse, milky-white semen-mixed blood, shriveled head.
The cave, thick with last night's traces, now sparkled innocently in the new day's light.
"Up we go."
Uncrosing his legs, he stood.
Normally it'd annoy him, but today he felt refreshed.
"Work's work, though."
He picked up the skirt from the cave floor and bundled the lecher's head inside.
"Off you go, bird feed. You brought this on yourself—don't hate me."
Considering it, the guy's life had been rough.
Falling from Kunlun disciple to lecher, dying by his blade.
"Life's unpredictable."
A promising Nine Great Sects disciple turns lecher overnight,
a potbellied 30s salaryman becomes a swordsman overnight.
Fuck.
"Gotta dump this at the village."
Shoving idle thoughts aside, he hoisted the corpse over his shoulder.
"Let's roll."
Whoosh!
With a light heart, he kicked off the ground.
Exiting the cave in a flash, a clear blue morning sky welcomed him.
"Haaah!"
Salaryman or swordsman,
the sky overlooking him was always the same.