Ye Qiu’s heart raced.
He realised that the true qi he’d cultivated might very well be the legendary innate true qi.
“Third Uncle, how much more do you know about innate true qi?” Ye Qiu pressed.
Ye Wudi shook his head. “I’ve only heard that innate true qi is infinitely mysterious. As for what makes it so, I don’t know. After all, no one’s ever cultivated it.”
Ye Qiu asked again, “Can the true qi you’ve cultivated heal injuries in a short time?”
“No,” Ye Wudi replied. “Our true qi is similar to inner strength—it boosts combat power, extends lifespan, and marks someone as a martial powerhouse. Healing injuries quickly? That’s something only pills can do, and not just any pills—only rare ones like the Great Restoration Pill.”
“Oh, why do you ask?”
After posing the question, Ye Wudi suddenly recalled how Ye Qiu had asked him to strike earlier. Ye Qiu hadn’t fought back, taking the hit deliberately, yet emerged unscathed.
Ye Wudi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Could it be…?”
Ye Qiu nodded. “The true qi in my body can heal injuries—and fast. It’s far better than the Great Restoration Pill Master Longbrow gave me.”
What!
Ye Wudi was floored, urgently asking, “I hit you with seventy percent of my strength. How long did it take you to recover?”
“One minute.”
Ye Wudi pressed further, “Besides healing, does your true qi have other effects?”
“It flows endlessly in my body. I don’t even need to circulate it—it runs on its own.”
Innate true qi!
Ye Wudi’s mind reeled, speechless for a long moment.
After a while, he finally quelled his shock. “I always thought innate true qi was a myth. To think it’s real—and cultivated by you, of all people.”
“Ye Qiu, does anyone else know you’ve cultivated innate true qi?”
Ye Qiu shook his head.
“Good. Don’t tell anyone—especially not the Forbidden City. If they find out, they’ll stop at nothing to eliminate you.”
Innate true qi was the holy grail of martial artists.
Legend had it that whoever cultivated it could reach the pinnacle of martial arts.
If Ye Qiu grew unimpeded, he’d become a supreme master, a massive threat to the Forbidden City. Should they learn of his innate true qi, they’d spare no effort to crush him in his infancy.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Ye Qiu assured. “If you weren’t my Third Uncle, I wouldn’t have told you either.”
Ye Wudi grinned at that. “Good to know you’ve got some conscience, recognising who’s family.”
Ye Qiu smiled, then added, “Third Uncle, aside from healing, my true qi doesn’t seem to do much else.”
Ye Wudi mused, “They say innate true qi holds endless wonders. Give it time—with deeper understanding, you’ll uncover its uses. By the way, do you know about external true qi projection?”
Ye Qiu blinked. “What’s that?”
“External true qi projection…” Ye Wudi decided to demonstrate. Clenching his right fist, a stream of qi soon enveloped it.
“Touch it with your finger—gently,” he instructed.
Ye Qiu extended a finger and pressed lightly. The moment he touched the qi, he staggered back five or six steps.
So strong!
Shock filled Ye Qiu’s eyes.
This was just true qi’s power—Ye Wudi hadn’t even attacked. A full strike might’ve killed him outright.
Ye Wudi explained, “That’s external true qi projection. At a certain level, you can channel true qi into your fists, feet, or weapons. At its peak, you can wield it freely, releasing it from every pore of your body. Few in the world can do that today.”
Ye Qiu got it.
In simple terms, it was using true qi like inner strength, but with far greater destructive force.
“Third Uncle, how do I project true qi?” Ye Qiu asked eagerly.
“You’ll need to figure that out yourself,” Ye Wudi said.
Ye Qiu paused. “That’s it?”
“It sounds simple, but it’s not,” Ye Wudi replied. “It took me three years to grasp it. Your uncle was the most gifted martial artist I’ve ever seen, aside from you. He mastered it in a year. You’re in your twenties and already have innate true qi—that’s monstrous. Don’t rush. With your talent, maybe a year or so…”
He trailed off, stunned.
A layer of qi now wrapped Ye Qiu’s fist.
True qi projection!
Ye Wudi thought he was seeing things. He rubbed his eyes. Nope—there it was, qi swirling around Ye Qiu’s fist.
“How’d you do that?” he blurted.
Ye Qiu shrugged. “I just pushed the true qi to my fist like I would inner strength, and it came out.”
That worked?
Ye Wudi gaped.
He’d tried that method before—nothing. How had Ye Qiu pulled it off so effortlessly?
Maybe it was a fluke?
Ye Wudi reached out, pressing a finger against Ye Qiu’s fist.
Boom!
He was flung back two zhang, flipping twice in mid-air before landing steadily, his face a mask of shock.
“It’s real true qi projection—damn it!” Ye Wudi couldn’t help but swear.
Three years for him; mere moments for Ye Qiu. The comparison stung.
Then, Ye Qiu unclenched his fist and pointed out the window.
Whoosh!
The true qi morphed into a sharp sword qi, slicing through the air.
Crack! A basin-thick tree in the courtyard, thirty meters away, snapped in half.
“Six Meridians Divine Sword!”
Ye Wudi recognised the move instantly, awe and frustration warring within him. His martial genius felt utterly eclipsed by Ye Qiu.
“You’re a freak!” he grumbled, slumping into a chair and gulping tea.
“Third Uncle, one last question,” Ye Qiu said. “Where does my father rank on the Divine List?”
