Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

As soon as Yang swallowed the pill, he felt a gentle warmth bloom in his stomach. At first it felt almost comforting as it spread through him slowly in waves, and had he not known exactly what the pill was, he might have even mistaken it for some nourishing tonic.

But unfortunately, the warmth lasted only a few breaths before it intensified rapidly, surging through every meridian and blood vessel until it reached every part of his body. It scaled rapidly, transforming into a searing heat that felt as though it was charring him from the inside out.

Sweat beaded across his forehead before pouring down his face and neck, and within moments, his robes clung to him, soaked through as if he had been caught in a terrible downpour.

His vision grew blurry, and breathing turned ragged as he hurriedly stripped off his outer robes, hoping bare skin and open air might offer a shred of relief. His fingers trembled, making even the simple act of undoing the knots difficult. He barely managed to throw the last layer aside just as his body convulsed and his muscles violently spasmed.

A contraction that rippled visibly beneath his skin. Every muscle fiber inside him writhed as if alive, twisting and tightening in waves. He could actually feel it moving beneath his flesh.

It felt as though he was being wrung from the inside out, and yet still the heat continued to rise until it felt as though his flesh was being boiled beneath his skin.

A raw, desperate scream tore from his throat, filling the silence of the room. Every breath he took was a struggle and fed the fire raging inside him. It felt as though his muscles, fat, tendons, and every strand of connective tissue were melting into liquid.

He collapsed onto the floor and rolled frantically, desperately trying to extinguish a fire that existed only within his own body, knowing it was futile yet unable to stop himself from trying.

He kept rolling on the floor until even that became impossible. His muscles refused to obey him. The spasms became so violent they locked his limbs rigid in place before giving way entirely, as Yang curled into a fetal position, his entire body trembling without control.

The pain climbed beyond anything he had experienced before until his mouth hung open in silent torment while every breath came as a shallow gasp. His skin sagged loosely over a frame that felt hollow, as though only bones remained beneath it.

This should have killed him. Yet he did not die.

His heart continued to beat, and his mind remained painfully lucid. He longed for unconsciousness. For darkness. For anything that would grant a single moment of relief.

He begged silently to every immortal ancestor and forgotten deity whose name had ever passed through his mind.

No one answered, and he kept burning.

Time lost all meaning. It could have been minutes or days.

Then something changed.

The sensation of being boiled from within remained, but something else emerged along with it. A deep tingling spread through him, beginning in his bones and branching outward through every meridian like countless tiny streams.

Muscle fibers condensed from seemingly nothing. Fresh connective tissue wrapped itself around bone. His flesh filled out again, each layer rebuilding itself, and the new version felt denser and stronger than what had existed before.

At the same time, his meridians widened. Yang could feel the difference immediately. Qi flowed through them with an unfamiliar ease, as though countless invisible constrictions had simply ceased to exist.

It was not painless.

Far from it. Every new muscle fiber felt as though it were being solidified directly from the melted remnants inside him. Every tendon pulled itself into position with a tightening sensation that ran from bone to bone.

Eventually the unbearable heat began to recede. The spasms ceased, and the tingling subsided slowly until only exhaustion remained.

Yang lay motionless for several long minutes, drawing shaky breaths while cool air washed over his sweat-soaked skin.

Finally he planted a trembling hand on the floor and pushed himself upright.

He expected agony. He expected every muscle to protest after what they had just endured.

Instead his body moved with surprising smoothness. No stiffness or soreness. His newly rebuilt muscles responded instantly to every command, each motion feeling perfectly calibrated, using precisely the strength required and not a fraction more. His limbs felt lighter and more capable at the same time.

The suffering had been unimaginable, but the results were undeniable.

He managed perhaps two steps toward the bed before the toll on his mind asserted itself, and he crashed face-down onto it and was unconscious before he could even think about moving into a more comfortable position.

Yang woke to light coming through the window.

He sat up and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, and as he did he noticed he was wearing a clean set of robes.

He looked around the room and noticed the floor was clean; his sweat-drenched robes were nowhere to be seen.

He was fairly certain he had crashed into bed in considerably worse condition than this.

He stood and moved around the room trying to find his sweat-soaked robes, but he couldn’t locate them. Finally, he gave up and made way towards the bathroom, relieving himself and taking a bath.

Once done, he put on a fresh set of robes from his storage ring and combed his hair into a top knot held with a jade crown.

He stepped out of his room to see if he could look around but as soon as he stepped outside the door to his right swung open.

”Come inside,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao’s voice called out.

Yang immediately entered the room, finding it nearly identical to his own.

Senior Brother Fan Xiao was seated at a table, reading some kind of book. He kept his gaze on his book and just gestured to the chair beside him and Yang took the indicated seat.

Finally after a minute or two, Senior Brother closed his book and looked at him. ”How are you feeling, Chen Yang?”

”Good, Senior Brother. The process was excruciating, but I can already feel the difference in my meridians and body,” Yang said.

”That is expected.” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said as he looked him over. ”When I checked on you earlier, you were collapsed face-down on the bed. I cleaned up the room and put a fresh set of robes on you so you may rest more comfortably.”

A hot flush of embarrassment crept up Yang’s neck as he realized the state his Senior Brother Fan Xiao had found him in.

Thankfully, Senior Brother Fan Xiao made no further comment. Instead, he reached across the table and passed Yang a talisman. ”Keep this with you at all times. If we are ever separated and you are in danger, tear it in half, and I will be summoned to your location.” His expression hardened with a stern look. ”Only if you are in true peril. You will not be leaving my side in the Vermillion Cloud Realm, but if somehow we are separated and you feel danger before I can reach you, use the talisman.”

Yang took the talisman. “Thank you, Senior Brother. I will only use it if I am in danger and alone.”

”No need for thanks,” Senior Brother Fan Xiao said. ”In the absence of Master and our other Senior Brothers, taking care of you falls to me.” He paused, frowning slightly. ”Especially, given how young you are.”

With a flick of his wrist, a lavish spread of steamed buns, dried meats, and spiritual fruits materialized on the table. ”Eat. The refinement of a Molten Body Pill exacts a heavy toll on the body. You have been unconscious for three days.”

”Three days?” Yang echoed, surprised.

Senior Brother Fan Xiao gave him a look of faint amusement. ”Three full days. Your body may have been rebuilt stronger, but such pain takes its toll on the mind along with the body. It is not unusual to sleep through the recovery.”

Yang reached for the nearest thing on the table and began eating while a question surfaced. ”I do not understand why I did not lose consciousness during the process. When I used to eat beast cores in the forest, I would always be knocked out once the pain became too severe.”

Senior Brother Fan Xiao gave him a look that held a small amount of pity. ”Junior Brother, you are at the fourth stage of Qi Condensation. As your cultivation deepens, so does your ability to endure pain. Your mind and body have grown significantly more resilient than they were in those early years.” He paused. ”I am afraid you will likely have to experience every remaining dose of the Molten Body Pill in full consciousness.”

Yang’s hand froze mid-air, the food suddenly losing its appeal. ”You mean I’ll have to—”

CLANG!

The entire flying vessel shuddered violently, coming to a sudden halt that nearly threw Yang right out of his seat. Before he could lose his balance, Senior Brother Fan Xiao’s hand shot across the table, locking around his wrist, anchoring him in place.

But Senior Brother Fan Xiao was not looking at him. His gaze was fixed on the wall in the direction of the bow, and his expression, which had been easy and conversational ten seconds ago, was now entirely blank.

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