[Panel]
[Name: Ji Ning
Spiritual Root: Mid-grade Spiritual Root
Attributes: Five Elemental Attributes
Talent: Extreme Space-Time Sensitivity
Realm: 3rd Stage of Qi Condensation (386/400)
Cultivation Method: Pure Qi Sutra (2nd floor: 24/400)
Martial Arts: Bone Forging Fist (Minor Accomplishment: 21/200), Shadow Steps (Minor Accomplishment: 26/100)
Spells: Small Cloud Rain Technique(Minor Accomplishment: 169/200), Soil Refining Technique(Minor Accomplishment: 23/200), Scorching Purge(Minor Accomplishment:3/200), Golden Finger(Starting: 13/100)]
Ning glanced at the panel in disappointment, much like Ash Ketchum rushing toward a rustling bush expecting a wild Pokémon, only to find a girl instead.
Alas, he'd missed the finish line by a sliver.
Because of the Drunken Aphid disaster, he hadn't earned much during the harvest season. The missions he could take weren't particularly rewarding either. Being bound to the sect's farmlands meant he could only accept low-level assignments, mostly planting and cleaning work.
So even after borrowing an extra thirty spirit stones from Old Zhou, he still failed to reach the bottleneck of the third stage, let alone the fourth stage.
If he were honest, Ning was quite bummed out. Naturally so.
"I guess being a spiritual farmer really does entail unexpected disasters," Ning thought. He understood it, but understanding didn't mean accepting it.
And since today was the last day to register one's cultivation for the newbie assessment, his time had run out. With a sigh, Ning brushed the dust off his robes and made his way toward the General Affairs Hall.
It was already evening, so while there was still a line for registration, it was much shorter now.
Glancing around, Ning noticed most of the new disciples were at the second stage of Qi Condensation, a few barely at the third. It seemed that those who'd reached the fourth stage had already registered.
It made sense; the fourth stage was all that was needed to obtain a Cleansing Pill. A day or two of extra cultivation wouldn't make much difference for them, so they probably wouldn't wait till the last minute.
With another quiet sigh, Ning joined the end of the line. It was already dark by the time his turn came. The wait had been peaceful, unsurprising, since this was the sect's administrative hub. No one dared cause trouble here. The guards at the entrance weren't mere decorations.
Before long, a servant guided Ning inside to the elder's quarters.
"Ji Ning," the elder greeted, looking up from a pile of documents. "You were assigned to spiritual farming, yes? Your performance has been satisfactory." He nodded approvingly, then gestured for Ning to sit. "Moreover, it seems you have reached the third stage of Qi Condensation."
"Yes. It's all thanks to the teachings of the sect," Ning replied respectfully, bowing slightly.
The way to get along with senior management could be summed up in one word:
loyalty.
In this case, loyalty to the sect. Gratitude to the sect.
As expected, the elder smiled faintly. "Since you managed to reach the third stage within a year, you are entitled to a reward. You may choose one technique from the Scripture Pavilion. Take this identification token, present it there, and you'll be granted access."
He flicked a small bronze token toward Ning, who caught it with both hands.
"Thank you, Elder."
"Also, as a young man, you should take better care of your health. Don't overexert yourself." The elder pointed at Ning's dark circles, his tone kind.
Sleeping barely three hours a night had clearly taken its toll; the evidence hung under his eyes. Heavy dark circles and traces of fatigue were quite visible.
Ning only bowed and retreated.
The elder's words held truth, but if he didn't push himself to the limit, he'd feel sorry for himself for slacking off.
Just as he stepped out, someone rushed past him, nearly colliding before sidestepping with practiced reflexes.
"Sorry!" the person called out before disappearing inside.
Ning blinked. That voice, Xiao Fan.
Judging by his unsteady qi, he'd just broken through to the fourth stage. His energy was still turbulent, unrefined.
Ning couldn't help but sigh with a wry smile. "As expected of the protagonist. Showing up at the last second."
...
Back at his quarters, Ning sat for a moment before resuming his cultivation.
Now that his one-year mission exemption had ended, he needed to reach mid-stage Qi Condensation and earn his outer sect status. There was no time to waste.
He formed the familiar hand seals, and the Pure Qi Sutra began circulating through his meridians. Heaven and earth spiritual energy flowed steadily toward his dantian, completing one cycle after another as his breathing gradually settled into a calm, even rhythm.
Normally, cultivation brought him a sense of tranquility.
Today, however, his mind refused to become quiet.
Without warning, his thoughts drifted back to the registration hall.
Xiao Fan. Fourth Stage of Qi Condensation.
Ning slowly opened one eye.
"Panel."
[Name: Ji Ning]
[Realm: 3rd Stage of Qi Condensation (386/400)]
Three hundred eighty-six.
Only fourteen points short.
He stared at the number for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh. "...Even if the Drunken Aphid disaster hadn't happened..."
Almost instinctively, his fingers began tapping lightly against his knee as he recalculated everything from the beginning.
His harvests, his cultivation speed, the spirit stones he had earned, the missions he had completed, even the money he had borrowed- he mentally rearranged every variable he could think of, searching for a path that would have allowed him to reach the Fourth Stage before the deadline.
He ran through the calculations once.
Then again. And a third time, hoping he had overlooked something.
In the end, the conclusion remained unchanged.
A faint, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. "I probably still wouldn't have made it."
The Drunken Aphid disaster had undoubtedly slowed him down, but only by a small margin. Reaching the Fourth Stage of Qi Condensation within a single year had always been an exceptionally ambitious goal for someone with nothing more than a mid-grade spiritual root. Had everything gone perfectly, he might have come closer, but the odds still wouldn't have favored him.
It was disappointing.
Even so, Ning wasn't the sort of person to brood over a result that could no longer be changed. A missed opportunity remained just that-a missed opportunity. There would be another year, another harvest, another chance to improve.
After reaching that conclusion, the slight frustration in his heart gradually faded. He closed his eyes once more and resumed circulating the Pure Qi Sutra, allowing his breathing to settle back into its familiar rhythm.
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For a while, everything was peaceful.
As his cultivation settled into its familiar rhythm, a single thought quietly surfaced in the depths of his mind.
If you already knew reaching the Fourth Stage was unrealistic... why did you push yourself so hard?
Ning's breathing slowed ever so slightly.
The question itself wasn't unreasonable. On the contrary, it was a perfectly fair question.
Because that was still the best chance I had,
he answered without much thought.
For a brief moment, the thought receded.
Then it returned.
Was it?
You slept only a few hours each night. You cultivated whenever you had a spare moment, counted every spirit stone, planned every mission, and optimized nearly every decision you made. You sacrificed comfort, free time, and peace of mind... yet after all that effort, you still failed to reach your goal.
Ning frowned as the flow of spiritual qi through his meridians faltered almost imperceptibly.
Nothing the voice said was false. Every observation it made was grounded in reality, every fact something he himself would have acknowledged.
Perhaps your methods were simply inefficient.
You devoted time to helping Old Zhou. You spent hours cooking, reading miscellaneous books, and experimenting with spirit farming. Every decision seemed reasonable by itself, yet when viewed as a whole, none of them brought you to your objective.
Ning's brows gradually knitted together.
The voice continued relentlessly.
You keep telling yourself that effort matters, yet the outcome was decided by luck. One infestation of Drunken Aphids was enough to ruin months of careful planning. If luck can overturn effort so easily... then what exactly did all that effort accomplish?
A chill crept down Ning's spine.
No. Something was wrong.
These were no longer ordinary passing thoughts.
His qi grew increasingly unstable.
The once-orderly circulation of the Pure Qi Sutra gradually descended into chaos, spiritual energy surging unpredictably through his meridians as doubt spread through his heart.
Only then did Elder Liu's warning flash across his mind.
Inner demons.
The realization struck Ning like a bucket of cold water.
Human beings naturally experienced moments of pessimism, doubt, and despair. In an ordinary world, those thoughts would pass with time, no more dangerous than a bad day.
But this was the cultivation world.
Here, thoughts shaped the spirit, and the spirit guided qi. Once negative emotions spiraled beyond one's control, they ceased to be mere emotions.
They became inner demons.
Ning's eyes snapped open. "..Fuck."
The whispers didn't fade. If anything, they sank even deeper into his mind, no longer sounding like an outside voice but like his own thoughts speaking with absolute conviction.
You're a transmigrator. Chosen one? Chosen for what? To struggle? To watch someone else seize every opportunity before you? If this world already has its protagonist, then why are you still here? Wouldn't everything be simpler if you simply gave up... or perhaps removed the protagonist instead?
A violent tremor ran through Ning's body, and the spiritual qi within his meridians lurched wildly, threatening to spiral completely out of control.
Yet amid the chaos, one thought remained crystal clear.
That isn't me.
Ning questioned himself from time to time. He reflected on his mistakes, reconsidered his decisions, and readily admitted when he had been wrong. Self-reflection was never something he feared.
But this wasn't self-reflection.
These thoughts weren't trying to help him arrive at the truth. They skipped over every possibility except the darkest one, forcing conclusions before he had even finished thinking and disguising resentment and violence as reason.
The moment Ning recognized that, the panic in his heart eased ever so slightly.
He immediately understood what he needed most.
Not another answer, but something familiar-something that reminded him who he was before those whispers dragged him any deeper.
"...Panel."
The familiar blue screen unfolded before his eyes.
[Name: Ji Ning]
[Realm: Qi Condensation – Third Stage (386/400)]
The whispers did not cease, nor did the panel suppress the inner demon. Yet the moment Ning looked upon the familiar blue screen, his breathing gradually steadied.
For nearly a year, it had recorded every step of his cultivation. Every breakthrough, every technique he had painstakingly mastered, every improvement earned through his own effort.
This panel simply reflected who he was.
And it was this familiarity that became an anchor amidst the storm raging within his mind.
Elder Liu's warning resurfaced.
An inner demon could not be defeated through panic. The more chaotic one's heart became, the stronger it grew. Before anything else, he first had to steady his mind and regain control over his spiritual qi.
Ning slowly closed his eyes and resumed circulating the Pure Qi Sutra.
The whispers immediately seized the opportunity.
Your effort accomplished nothing.
You still failed.
"No," Ning thought. "It accomplished exactly what effort always does. It gave me the best chance I could have had."
And it wasn't enough.
"Perhaps."
The whispers immediately pressed on, another argument already taking shape.
Only then did Ning understand.
The inner demon wasn't searching for the truth.
Every answer would simply become another question. Every conclusion would be twisted into fresh doubt. There was no winning an argument with something that fed upon uncertainty itself.
So he stopped arguing.
He devoted all of his attention to the rhythm of the Pure Qi Sutra, allowing one slow, measured breath after another to guide the turbulent spiritual qi back into its proper course.
The whispers immediately became more frantic.
You're avoiding the question. Months of effort... and what did you gain? Nothing.
They no longer sounded calm and analytical. Their urgency grew with every passing moment, as though they feared something was slipping beyond their grasp. The words struck at Ning's heart again and again, trying to pull his thoughts away from the steady rhythm of his breathing and back into the endless cycle of doubt.
For an instant, the spiritual qi within his meridians wavered, threatening to follow the cadence of those whispers instead of the circulation of the Pure Qi Sutra.
Ning simply let out another slow breath.
He neither agreed nor argued. He merely continued circulating his qi, allowing the familiar rhythm of cultivation to gradually smooth away the turbulence within his body. With each completed circulation, his breathing grew steadier, his heart calmer, and the chaotic spiritual energy slowly returned to order.
Sensing his resolve strengthening, the inner demon made one final attempt.
If all that effort couldn't even achieve your goal... then what was the point?
This time, Ning slowly opened his eyes.
They were no longer clouded by confusion.
"Results matter," he said quietly. "I'm not going to pretend otherwise. Failing to reach the Fourth Stage is still a failure."
He paused, a faint smile gradually appearing on his face.
"But failing to reach one goal doesn't make everything I gained while pursuing it meaningless."
The whispers immediately surged once more, desperately trying to tear open the crack they had already lost.
Then what was the point? You still failed.
Everything else is nothing more than an excuse.
Ning suddenly laughed.
It wasn't because he had disproved the inner demon.
No, it was simply because he'd finally caught it making a false assumption.
It assumed that every decision he had made over the past year had existed solely for the sake of reaching the Fourth Stage.
Yet when he looked back, that simply wasn't true.
Even without that goal, he knew he still would have spent hours refining the Small Cloud Rain Technique until every movement became instinctive. He still would have experimented with spirit farming, buried himself in books, and searched for more efficient ways to cultivate. Not because someone had ordered him to, nor because there was an immediate reward waiting at the end, but because he genuinely enjoyed doing those things.
Cultivation, to Ning, had never been just a ladder to climb. It was an endless world of mysteries waiting to be understood, techniques waiting to be improved, and ideas waiting to be tested.
"I simply want to keep doing the things I enjoy," Ning said softly. "If I reach my goal, then that's naturally for the best. If I fall short..." A small smile appeared on his face. "...then I'll simply aim for it again tomorrow."
The whispers immediately grew louder, desperately trying to seize upon the slightest trace of hesitation, but Ning no longer paid them any mind.
He had finally understood.
An inner demon thrived on doubt. The more attention he gave it, the stronger it became. There was no need to prove it wrong, nor was there any need to win an endless argument against it. All he needed was a heart steady enough not to be led astray.
Ning let his gaze rest upon the familiar blue panel before closing his eyes once more. Like a compass that always pointed him back toward himself, it quietly anchored his thoughts while he devoted his full concentration to circulating the Pure Qi Sutra.
The whispers continued for a while longer, but without uncertainty to feed upon, they gradually weakened. Their voices grew fainter with every completed circulation of qi until, eventually, only silence remained.
For the next several minutes, Ning simply sat there, taking slow, measured breaths until the last traces of turbulence within his meridians disappeared.
The inner demon had passed.
Only after confirming that everything had returned to normal did Ning let out a long, weary sigh.
"...That was way too dangerous."
He rubbed his temples, recalling the whispers that had almost convinced him they were his own thoughts. A helpless smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"So that's what people mean when they say your worst enemy is yourself."
The joke fell flat in the empty room, but somehow, it still made him feel a little better
As his thoughts settled, Ning gradually realized what had truly made inner demons so terrifying. It wasn't that they appeared suddenly. Rather, they had likely been there for some time, quietly magnifying emotions that already existed until they finally reached a breaking point.
Thinking back over the past month, the signs became obvious.
He had been working himself relentlessly ever since setting his sights on the Fourth Stage. Normally, Ning understood the importance of balancing cultivation with proper rest. Yet today, despite knowing full well that both his body and mind were exhausted, he had still chosen to cultivate.
At the time, it had seemed like the most reasonable decision in the world.
Now he knew better.
That wasn't a coincidence.
The inner demon hadn't suddenly appeared the moment he sat down to cultivate. It had quietly nurtured those thoughts over days and weeks, patiently widening every crack in his state of mind until one final push was enough to throw his heart into chaos.
The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.
An enemy that could subtly influence one's emotions without being noticed was far more frightening than one that attacked openly.
No wonder Elder Liu had spoken of inner demons with such gravity.
Fortunately, inner demons appeared to grow alongside a cultivator's realm. Ning was still only in the early stages of Qi Condensation, so the one he had encountered was relatively weak. Coupled with the panel anchoring his thoughts before they completely spiraled out of control, he had managed to escape with little more than a scare.
A cool night breeze drifted in through the open window, stirring the curtains as pale moonlight spilled quietly across the room.
Ning stood there for a moment.
After surviving such an ordeal, beneath such a picturesque moon...
He suddenly felt like saying something profound.
"Nah." Ning shook his head with a chuckle. "Leave the aura farming to the protagonists."
Instead, he turned toward the kitchen.
Right now, a warm bowl of soup sounded far more appealing than a dramatic one-liner beneath the moonlight.
...
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