An Examination of Modern Cultivation

This is not a novel. It is an instruction manual.

Lin Nian, a third-year Chinese literature student, found a Ming dynasty edition of the Dao De Jing in the rare-books archive. Someone had written tiny notes in neat script in the margins:

"Can one embrace the spirit and hold fast to the One without letting them part? This is no metaphor for the mind. Try this: Sit quietly at midnight, press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, focus your mind a little below your navel, and wait for your qi to stir."

He copied the words from the ancient book and tried them.

Two weeks later, he needed only five hours of sleep, and his energy had doubled. A month later, with his eyes closed, he could "see" his own meridians. Two months later, he could sense someone's presence from a hundred meters away.

He discovered a truth buried by modern civilization: cultivating immortality was real. But it was nothing like any novel you had ever read.

Cultivators weren't immortals. They were recluses driven into the mountains by electromagnetic pollution. Fewer than ten thousand people worldwide had begun cultivating, and most were stuck at the first level. Chen Dehou had practiced for thirty years without even getting through the door. Su Jing was an acupuncturist at a community clinic, already a well-known figure in their circle.

There were no immortal sects, no spiritual root tests, no three-year appointments. Only scattered notes in ancient books, spiritual energy disrupted by 5G towers, and a business card for the "Special Affairs Coordination Office," hidden within the Cultural Relics Bureau.

Lin Nian wanted to find the long-lost Record of the Mysterious Pearl. But he soon discovered he wasn't the only one looking for it. Some had gone mad for it, some had died for it, and some would do anything to keep it from ever seeing the light of day.

If you think cultivating immortality is real, then this is what it should look like.