bookbashuk Chapter 129 Fainting
Chapter 129 Fainting
After completing the seed of divine consciousness, Zhao Fan was quite satisfied. He stood up, pushed open the wooden door, and the sunlight shone directly on his face.
The waiter followed him out of the house, squatted down at his feet, and looked up at him.
Zhao Fan lowered his head and patted its head, then walked around the field ridge and inspected the spirit field.
The plants—including Qingxincao, Minglinghua, and Chilinghua—are all thriving, with thick leaves and a rich medicinal aroma.
He squatted down and pulled up a few weeds, then checked the sluice gate of the irrigation ditch. After confirming that there was no problem, he returned to the wooden house.
It was still early, so he decided to meditate and cultivate for a while.
Since arriving at the back mountain of Danfeng, his cultivation has never slackened.
After tending to the spirit fields each day, he would take time to practice the Heavenly Origin Technique.
Zhao Fan sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and let his spiritual energy flow slowly from his dantian along his meridians.
One small cycle, two small cycles... the spiritual energy circulated more and more smoothly, and the vortex in the dantian rotated steadily.
Zhao Fan focused his mind on his body, guiding his spiritual energy towards his sea of consciousness.
The circulation path of Tianyuan Gong is different from other martial arts techniques.
In most cultivation techniques, spiritual energy circulates only within the meridians and does not reach the sea of consciousness.
However, the Heavenly Origin Technique is different; it requires spiritual energy to pass through the edge of the sea of consciousness when circulating through a great cycle.
Master said that this was to use the power of the sea of consciousness to compress spiritual power, so that the absorbed spiritual energy would be more condensed and pure. This is also the reason why he gets headaches every time he cultivates.
The spiritual energy traveled upwards along the meridians, slowly approaching the sea of consciousness.
Zhao Fan had gotten used to the process; although it was painful, it was within his tolerance.
As spiritual energy passed through the edge of his sea of consciousness, the familiar stinging pain arrived as expected, like a needle piercing his brain.
Zhao Fan gritted his teeth and continued to guide his spiritual energy forward.
As the sea of consciousness was struck by spiritual energy, the newly formed seed of divine consciousness within it trembled.
As the seed of consciousness began to tremble, Zhao Fan felt the pain on his forehead suddenly intensify.
This wasn't the usual pricking sensation; it felt like someone had taken a hammer and smashed it hard on his head.
His body jolted violently, and he almost fell off the bed.
But he didn't stop, thinking it was just because the seed of divine consciousness had just formed and wasn't yet adapted to the impact of spiritual power.
He gritted his teeth and continued to guide his spiritual energy forward, which once again passed through the edge of his sea of consciousness.
This time, the pain was even more intense, as if countless needles were piercing his head at the same time.
Zhao Fan's vision blurred, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
He finally realized something was wrong and tried to stop, but it was too late.
As the seed of consciousness trembled violently, cracks began to appear in the Concentration Seal.
Zhao Fan tried desperately to control his spiritual power, but the power was completely beyond his control.
Soon the Concentration Seal shattered completely, the Seed of Divine Consciousness suddenly burst open, and the divine consciousness that had been compressed for so long scattered wildly, rampaging through the Sea of Consciousness.
Zhao Fan felt as if his head had been blown open from the inside.
It was an indescribable, excruciating pain, more intense than anything he had ever experienced before.
His consciousness was shattered in an instant, everything went black, and he fell straight onto the bed.
Xiao Er suddenly raised his head, saw Zhao Fan fall down, immediately jumped off the foot of the bed, and nudged his face with his nose.
No response.
The waiter was getting a little anxious and nudged the spot again, but there was still no response.
It paced anxiously around the bed several times, making low whimpering sounds.
It jumped onto the bed, lay down next to Zhao Fan, rubbed its head against his face, and licked his hand with its tongue, but Zhao Fan still did not wake up.
The sky gradually darkened, then gradually brightened again.
Xiao Er didn't sleep a wink all night, staying by Zhao Fan's side the whole time. Its ears were perked up, constantly listening to any sounds outside.
Zhao Fan still hadn't woken up by noon the next day.
Xiao Er jumped off the bed and paced back and forth in the room, occasionally rubbing against Zhao Fan's leg, then ran back to the door and looked outside.
It didn't know what was wrong with Zhao Fan, but it knew he needed help.
Just then, footsteps could be heard outside.
The waiter immediately rushed to the door and pricked up his ears.
The footsteps grew closer, and it smelled that familiar scent—it was the old man who came every month to collect the spiritual herbs.
Xiao Er rushed out the door and ran along the ridge towards the old man.
The old man walked over slowly with his hands behind his back. When he saw the waiter running towards him, he frowned slightly.
The waiter rushed up to him, not squatting quietly beside him as usual, but calling out a few times before turning and running towards the wooden house. After a few steps, he looked back at the old man, as if signaling him to follow.
The old man frowned even more deeply, quickened his pace, and followed the waiter to the front of the wooden house.
The door was open, and he immediately saw Zhao Fan lying stiffly on the bed, his face as pale as paper and his lips devoid of any color.
The old man quickly walked to the bedside, reached out and checked Zhao Fan's breath. He was still breathing, but very weakly.
He then placed his fingers on Zhao Fan's wrist, channeling a wisp of spiritual energy into it, which slowly penetrated Zhao Fan's body along the meridians.
After circulating his spiritual energy, the old man's expression grew increasingly grim.
The sea of consciousness is damaged, and the spirit dissipates.
Zhao Fan's sea of consciousness was in complete disarray. The seed of divine consciousness had been shattered, and the remnants of the Condensing Spirit Seal remained, but they had lost their function.
The old man withdrew his finger and remained silent for a long time.
Zhao Fan's injuries were not minor; his sea of consciousness was damaged. Although it was not life-threatening, it had fundamentally damaged him.
If left untreated, his consciousness will remain in its current state forever, and may even deteriorate further.
With the spiritual strength of someone at the fifth level of Qi Refining, let alone Foundation Establishment, it would be difficult to even maintain the cultivation level of the late stage of Qi Refining.
The old man looked at Zhao Fan's pale face and hesitated.
He wasn't without means to save Zhao Fan; he happened to have a top-grade first-level Spirit Nourishing Pill on him. Although it couldn't cure the disease completely, it could still improve Zhao Fan's condition.
But he had gone to great lengths to obtain it, and it was originally intended for his own use in case of emergency.
Zhao Fan was just an outer disciple, with weak spiritual sense, poor alchemy skills, and low cultivation level. Even if he was saved, he would most likely have no hope of reaching the Foundation Establishment stage.
The old man felt it wasn't worth wasting a top-grade first-tier Spirit Nourishing Pill on a mere outer disciple at the seventh level of Qi Refining.
The old man turned around, picked up the storage bag from beside the bed where Zhao Fan kept his spiritual herbs, put it in his sleeve, and then walked towards the door.
Xiao Er remained squatting by the bed, watching the old man's movements.
As the old man turned to walk towards the door, it suddenly stood up and quickly chased after him.
The old man had just stepped out of the wooden door when he dodged the rushing waiter with a quick movement.
The old man frowned, about to kick it away, but the waiter stopped in front of him and knelt down.
It bent its hind legs, lowered its body, and placed its forehead on the ground.
It was a kowtowing gesture. The waiter raised his head, glanced at the old man, then bowed down again and kowtowed once, twice, three times...
The old man was stunned. He looked at Xiao Er's moist eyes and watched it repeatedly imitate human actions and kowtow to him. Suddenly, an indescribable feeling welled up in his heart.
Having lived for so many years, he had seen countless spirit beasts—some loyal, some fierce, some intelligent, and some foolish.
But he had never seen such a spiritual and affectionate pet.
He sighed, squatted down, and reached out to pat Xiao Er's head.
Xiao Er was trembling all over, and a low sob came from his throat, as if he was crying.
"That's enough."
The old man said something in a low voice, stood up, and took out a jade bottle from his sleeve.
The bottle was opened, and a refreshing medicinal fragrance wafted out.
He walked to the bedside, gently lifted Zhao Fan's head, poured out a pale golden pill from the bottle, and put it into Zhao Fan's mouth.
After the pill entered his stomach, its medicinal effects slowly dissipated. Zhao Fan's face remained pale, but his breathing became more steady.
The old man straightened Zhao Fan's body, tapped his fingers lightly on Zhao Fan's body a few times, and then a stream of pure spiritual energy flowed from the old man's fingertips and into Zhao Fan's body.