On a rainy night, the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace glowed.
Qin Ming sat cross-legged on the floor. Outside, bean-sized raindrops clattered against the roof and howling gusts snapped tree branches, yet his heart remained serene.
The manifestation of natural thunder and fire between heaven and earth was the ideal time to cultivate the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts.
This true scripture was extraordinarily difficult to master. The very first step was tempering the heart: discarding stray thoughts like greed, wrath, and ignorance, ensuring the mind remained unmoved and the spirit did not wander.
In a quiet meditation chamber, this would have been easy to achieve.
Right now, however, violent winds carrying damp vapor blasted against the hall, and explosive thunderclaps repeatedly shattered the deep sky. For ordinary people, keeping their ocean of thought free of ripples under such conditions was nearly impossible.
This was why powerful cultivators preferred subterranean palaces or absolute seclusion chambers. External demons lingered in the outside world, ready to disrupt a tranquil mind.
Lightning streaked across the pitch-black night sky, momentarily illuminating the palace interior. Dressed in blue robes with his black hair draped over his chest and back, Qin Ming sat upon a prayer mat with his eyes closed. His face was crystalline, almost radiant.
Gradually, he entered a meditative state, impervious to external demons.
Across Chixia Mountain, ancient trees hundreds of years old swayed wildly in the gale, resembling shadowy ghosts and spirits baring fangs and brandishing claws in the gloom.
Crack! A bolt of lightning plunged downward, snapping the trunk of a five-hundred-year-old tree. Its crown exploded with a deafening roar, sending electric arcs dancing through the surroundings. Other old trees were caught in the blast; leaves scattered erratically before bursting apart.
Yet when this noise reached Qin Ming's ears and cast itself into the lake of his heart, it raised no more than a tiny ripple that smoothed away in an instant. This was the act of severing external demons.
At the same time, atop the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace, the translucent tiles forged from special copper-mother gleamed. Balls of rolling thunder-fire began seeping into the hall.
Saliva welled in Qin Ming's mouth. Operating the principles of the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts, he naturally opened his mouth and channeled wisps of thunder-fire heavenly light inside. It tasted like drinking jade nectar, leaving fragrance on his lips and a faint, pure scent wafting from his body.
Thunderbolts merged into continuous sheets, striking one after another from far to near. The night sky seemed punctured through, pale lightning bridging heaven and earth.
The deafening thunder sounded like giants striding from the horizon with heavy footsteps. The entire bronze hall trembled slightly, the window frames rattled, and heavy rain was driven inside by the gale.
Yet Qin Ming remained unmoved. Not a single ripple stirred the lake of his heart. His expression was peaceful; only now could his ocean of thought truly be called unrippled.
"Listening to startling thunder in a mountain cottage, the heart remains like the moon in a well." He opened his eyes. Having accomplished this, the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts began circulating on its own.
After tempering the heart came the second step—tempering the body.
Qin Ming regulated his breath, visualized, and guided his energy, using this renowned lightning scripture to stimulate his blood and qi and strengthen his physique, periodically drawing down arcs of thunder-fire.
What was thunder? It was the resplendent heavenly might naturally present in the world.
To master a brilliant scripture in this domain, one's physical foundation had to be exceedingly formidable. Otherwise, how could one endure such terrifying lightning and fire?
For anyone else, this step was the most perilous. The slightest misstep would bring utter ruin, reducing the body to charcoal and ashes under the lightning.
For Qin Ming, however, it was not excessively difficult. His Scripture of Harmonizing Body and Dao had long reached a profound level, and his mastery of the Extreme Dao Golden Body Classic was not for nothing either, granting him pure physical strength capable of contending with wondrous arts.
Furthermore, he had channeled thunder-fire and swallowed heavenly light during every rainy season, so this step came naturally to him. His physical foundation had already far exceeded the requirement.
With abundant blood and qi, a clear and lucid mind, and body and spirit in peak condition, Qin Ming was at his absolute best. He focused on sensing the power of lightning.
Tempering the heart and tempering the body were merely preludes—necessary preparations for cultivating profound lightning arts. Now, he officially began to comprehend the core principles of the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts.
Qin Ming meditated, concentrating on the "conception of thunder." Utilizing this special seclusion ground—the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace—he actively drew in the thunder-fire.
For now, he could not step into the rain to take on the massive bolts connecting heaven and earth. That would be sheer suicide; he had to advance step by step.
Qin Ming visualized, striving to attain the realm of "I am thunder, and thunder is me."
He possessed a profound foundation. Although many of the methods he had practiced in the past did not belong exclusively to this domain, numerous classics touched upon it.
Practicing this legendary scripture yielded twice the results with half the effort.
Listening to the thunder and comprehending the Dao, imbued with zen grace, he turned his sight inward toward his flesh and visualized the resplendent heavenly might. Within him, he formed a tangible, substantial mass of thunder-fire, interwoven with arcs of electricity.
Outside his body, he drew in the thunder baleful aura rolling over the bronze hall, causing it to converge upon him like trickling streams and pour into his flesh and blood.
Though it felt numb and tingling, and even somewhat painful as the electricity intensified, it did not harm his foundation. On the contrary, it felt like ingesting a great panacea, immersing him in a wondrous state.
The thunder-fire forged within his body was already potent, possessing surging endurance. Now, nourished by the natural lightning of the outside world, it grew increasingly brilliant.
Eventually, internal and external aligned. The thunder-fire within him transformed into a seed, poised to sprout at any moment.
"It's done. Time for the core transformation." Qin Ming's heart was as calm as the moon in a well, his face serene. He had formed a "lightning seed" inside himself.
Matching his breath, he inhaled and exhaled natural thunder-fire, wisp by wisp. Refusing to rush, he channeled it gradually, savoring it like fine wine. In the pitch-black, rainy night, electric arcs slowly swirled around his body, gradually enveloping him.
Qin Ming clearly felt his flesh and spirit being tempered and purified by the most formidable pure yang power in the world. Sustained over time, his constitution was bound to advance.
After a night of listening to thunder, his clothes had long turned to ash, but his body grew increasingly translucent and lustrous. His blood and qi were magnificent and brimming with vitality, welcoming a vigorous breath of life born from destructive force.
Then, Qin Ming vanished without a sound.
It was the rainy season—the best time to cultivate a lightning scripture.
From then on, whenever a thunderstorm arrived, he would appear punctually in the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace to cultivate in seclusion, unwilling to miss this rare opportunity to elevate his cultivation.
In the initial stages of practicing the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts, the resplendent heavenly might served as a rare tonic for him.
Sometimes the storms lasted for several days on end, while at other times there was a storm every two or three days. Vegetation grew rampantly, and intense thunder-fire continually poured from the cloud layer.
In just half a month, the lightning force inside Qin Ming had grown substantial. With a single thought, lightning would interweave across his fist, possessing formidable power.
By now, the lightning seed within him had evolved from snow-white to surging silver.
Moreover, what seemed like nine leaves rotated around the thriving seed.
Looking inward with deep examination revealed that these so-called leaves were actually nine miniature seal scripts, all related to thunder, each densely packed with symbols.
When he circulated his art, nine yellowed "pages" materialized around his body, forming a protective barrier covered in unfathomable lightning seals.
This was the physical manifestation of the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts within his body, as well as the tangible embodiment of heaven and earth's natural lightning talismans outside his flesh.
Qin Ming could transform his internal Yin-Yang and Five Elements power, as well as heavenly light and sacred baleful aura, into internal lightning. He could also draw external lightning for his own use.
The nine internal and nine external chapters, as well as the tangible "pages," were all traces of Dao resonance clearly made manifest—a sign that his cultivation had reached a certain stage.
Beyond manifesting in this manner, they could also transform into nine great internal and external seals, various lightning weapons, or mystical phenomena.
Qin Ming continued his contemplation, striving to merge these chapters and pages into one, and to unite the internal and external lightning seals.
Over a month into the rainy season, the baby-fist-sized lightning seed inside Qin Ming "sprouted." Instead of producing tender leaves, it brought forth symbols—special, terrifying lightning seals.
These were the intersecting trajectories of Dao resonance forming the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts.
He had crossed the threshold, mastering the true art of the lightning domain.
The seed took on a pale gold hue, looking for all the world like a golden core inscribed with intricate, profound patterns.
Qin Ming tempered it thoroughly using mortal fire, the furnace fire of the Eight Views Divine Radiance Classic, and his Hunyuan force. He found it firm and indestructible, glowing with radiant brilliance.
Nine pages hovered around the mutated lightning seed, revolving around it.
The Yellow Silk Canopy was startled. "Did you change your path? Reshaping your foundation and achieving the Golden Core realm of our cultivation civilization?"
Every time Qin Ming cultivated on stormy days, the Yellow Silk Canopy also appeared, using the lightning to temper itself.
During their previous venture into the otherworld forbidden zone, if anyone had gained the most, it was this dust-covered supreme treasure, which had absorbed an immense amount of pure yang consciousness.
In that bloody purgatory, it had trembled with excitement and hummed softly in delight. In that moment, it had nearly felt the urge to call Qin Ming "Father."
It had seen the hope of its own recovery; the place had been filled with "prime material," a feast of fleshy panaceas as far as the eye could see.
When Qin Ming fought the sword duel in the sky and seized it from the hands of the Black Tower civilization, the canopy's realm had fallen drastically, dropping below the fourth realm.
Since returning from the otherworld forbidden zone, it had steadily risen to near the fifth realm. Brushing away the dust of time, it began to regain its former splendor.
Now, having cleansed itself in the thunder-fire, it had truly become sacred. Galaxies swirled across its surface and spilled outward, while the tassels along its rim draped down peaceful purple qi. It no longer resembled a demonic treasure in the slightest, aligning perfectly with Qin Ming's aesthetic.
Qin Ming corrected it, "This is formed by condensing runes through thunder and fire. It is the legendary Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts, not a golden core."
The Yellow Silk Canopy replied firmly, "No, it is a golden core. I sensed it carefully; there's no difference."
Qin Ming was surprised. Through Qian Cheng's lingering thoughts, he already knew that the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts was a world-shaking classic with a frighteningly grand background.
It seemed top-tier true scriptures could apply to different paths and different systems, truly worthy of the word "Primal" in its name.
"No wonder a certain kind of entity among the taboos values this scripture so highly."
Cultivating this true scripture, Qin Ming had his own understanding. Although this golden core was solid and indestructible, at the command of his will, it rapidly broke down into streams of light and returned to its origin. The lightning power transformed entirely into heavenly light and sacred baleful aura, merging seamlessly with the denser heavenly light in his flesh and blood.
The Yellow Silk Canopy was astonished. "Dispersing a golden core with a single thought? That is somewhat different. This Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts is truly extraordinary."
Qin Ming nodded. He had tempered his heart and body and possessed an ample foundation, yet it had still taken him over a month of contemplation to gradually grasp the scripture's meaning and cultivate it step by step.
Relatively speaking, this true scripture was immensely difficult. With any other manual, he would have mastered it long ago. His comprehension and natural talent were his greatest reliance.
The Yellow Silk Canopy said, "This is a miraculous scripture. If you ever travel to lands inhabited by cultivation civilizations, you could completely pass as one of them—no, you would genuinely be a Golden Core realm cultivator in name and deed."
More than two months into the rainy season, Qin Ming achieved genuine mastery of the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts.
The nine pages of "lightning seals" circling outside sank into the interior of the golden core, intertwining into various lightning symbols and mysterious patterns, prompting the core to undergo a transformation.
That day, the pale gold lightning seed shone with dazzling brilliance, covered in dense, unfathomable Dao patterns.
The Yellow Silk Canopy was startled once more. Surprised, it muttered, "A flawless top-tier golden core adorned with heaven and earth patterns."
It pondered for a long time without figuring out where this manual originated. It was far beyond ordinary bounds. Perhaps this young man was inherently unique, allowing him to switch paths with such success.
With another thought, Qin Ming dispersed the golden core again. It blended into the heavenly light, divine wisdom, and pure yang power within his flesh, harmonizing completely without distinction.
Then, guided by his will, the flawless golden core condensed once more, appearing in an instant.
As the three-month mark approached, the rainy season neared its end, and the lightning grew sparse. Qin Ming had already drawn the nine external pages into his body, merging them into the lightning seed.
By now, the golden core was completely different from how it started, having evolved into an even more unfathomable state.
With both the nine internal and nine external chapters integrated into the seed, its patterns multiplied, taking on a brilliant purple-gold luster that made Qin Ming's flesh diffuse a refreshing fragrance.
The Yellow Silk Canopy exclaimed in awe, "Thunder and fire harmonized—this is an exquisite purple-golden core covered in the patterns of heaven and earth!"
It found it hard to believe that this youth could achieve something so astonishing simply by shifting paths on a whim. According to legend, anyone who formed such a unique golden core had limitless potential.
Most importantly, it felt that Qin Ming's golden core had not yet reached its limit; its quality was still rising, which was truly terrifying.
"How is the quality of my golden core?" Qin Ming asked.
"Already extraordinary," the Yellow Silk Canopy replied. "Comparable to those at the grand mastery of the Golden Core realm."
In reality, Qin Ming had not yet reached full completion in the realm he currently stood in, meaning he could still advance further within this Golden Core realm.
Manifesting a wine cup out of heavenly light, he caught the final wisp of lightning and drank it down in a single gulp. A feeling of utter comfort washed over him as he savored the various transformations within his body.
In just seventy-nine days of cultivating the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts and consuming the lightning medicine, his constitution and spirit had steadily transformed, allowing him to break through a bottleneck and reach the fifth layer of the Mind Lamp realm.
If he had followed conventional cultivation, it would have taken him three years to achieve this.
Yet now, in less than three months, he had done it. Such speed was miraculous!
Most importantly, his body had not developed much of a tolerance to the lightning medicine; he could still consume it to advance further.
Unfortunately, the rainy season had ended.
Qin Ming was already very satisfied. If he continued like this, he might well become the youngest Grandmaster in Night Province.
A thought struck him. "Perhaps among the mysterious worlds behind those ancient Mist Gates, some are still experiencing their rainy season!"
Qin Ming felt this might be a dependable path of cultivation.
Virtually all rare medicines and lands of fortune belonged to someone. The otherworld forbidden zone had taught many people a bloody lesson, resulting in catastrophic losses.
Over the past two months, Qin Ming had heard all sorts of rumors: attempting to harvest medicine in the forbidden zone had led to a bloodbath, and at least ninety percent of the explorers had been left behind in that world, shocking the entire realm.
In the region of Yujing, this had been the most discussed topic recently.
Of course, many had ventured there using a strand of pure yang consciousness, with few sending their true bodies. That was a silver lining amidst misfortune; otherwise, it would have been an utter catastrophe.
"What kind of place is that? A forbidden zone. Why would Earth Immortal-grade medicines in an unknown world be placed out in the open? How could there be no price? To take them, one must pay!"
Some harbored the suspicion that the Three Treasures medicine fields of Essence, Qi, and Spirit might have been born from a dying entity that had lost its sense of self. If that speculation proved true, it would be even more horrifying.
Qin Ming paid little heed to these matters. Over the past two months, he had been cultivating quietly in seclusion, completely isolated from the outside world.
He had remained undisturbed because Meng Xinghai had helped him greatly by finding a double to stay in Twin Trees Village.
Combined with Qin Ming's traceless movements, almost no one knew that he had spent nearly eighty days and nights near the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace.
If given the choice, he would gladly continue cultivating in this peaceful manner without strife, silently elevating himself so that when world-shaking changes occurred in the future, he would not fear the fierce conflicts to come.
Ending his seclusion, Qin Ming descended Chixia Mountain and quietly went to see Meng Xinghai, only to find dark circles under the man's eyes.
"Uncle Meng, what happened to you?"
Meng Xinghai replied, "Investigating lands for achieving godhood. I haven't slept much this past month. You stimulated me so much that I overdid my cultivation recently; I keep feeling like a young evil dragon is right on my tail, chasing me down."
Qin Ming was speechless. He shared a meal with him, returned to Twin Trees Village, and dismissed the double.
He planned to rest for a few days before considering venturing into unknown worlds to consume lightning medicine. If he could find a suitable place, he might be able to break through yet again.
Life in the remote village was undeniably relaxing and pleasant, far removed from turmoil, possessing only an otherworldly tranquility.
In his spare time, Qin Ming taught Wen Rui cultivation and guided Yuque and the red squirrel in comprehending techniques, thoroughly enjoying a period of deep peace of mind.
Yet this leisurely time lasted only a few days before the tranquility was shattered.
"What? Uncle Meng ran into trouble with his cultivation?" Qin Ming rose abruptly.
The messenger was a man in black, his face etched with worry. Qin Ming knew him well; he was Meng Xinghai's trusted confidant and entirely reliable.
How could this happen? Qin Ming's eyes turned profound.
He immediately penned letters requesting Yu Gensheng, far away in Kunling, and Li Qingyun of the reclusive clan to rush to Chixia City.
Grandmasters were the pinnacle experts who could still barely move about freely.
Qin Ming worried that something was amiss in Chixia City due to unknown external factors, so he wished to invite experts to protect Old Meng.
Meng Xinghai's confidant looked surprised, then nodded solemnly. "A Grandmaster from the Meng family has already arrived."
Furthermore, the man sent a secret voice transmission explaining that before Meng Xinghai felt his condition deteriorate, he had specifically instructed not to inform Qin Ming immediately, but to wait until the Meng family experts arrived before deciding based on the situation.
Now, not only had a Meng family Grandmaster arrived, but he had also brought along a close Grandmaster friend.
Only then had the man in black rushed to Twin Trees Village to inform Qin Ming of the details.
"Even in this state, Uncle Meng was still thinking of me, worried someone was targeting me." Touched, Qin Ming felt a surge of emotion.
He asked urgently, "How did Uncle Meng end up like this? What is his condition now?"
The man in black reported, "He may have become lost in the land for achieving godhood that he favored. His consciousness has grown increasingly faint, and he fell into a coma last night."
Qin Ming said, "Head back first. I'll be right behind you."
He did not know whether this was a man-made plot or an accident on the path to godhood.
Evidently, Meng Xinghai had feared human malice, worrying someone was coming after Qin Ming.
As the Thunder King Bird flew off to deliver the letters, Qin Ming traversed Black-White Mountain, heading to Chixia City in person. Meng Xinghai had shown him immense kindness, and Qin Ming possessed life-saving items; he could never stand by and watch Old Meng come to harm.
No one ambushed him along the way.
Perhaps the path he chose was too remote; in any case, nothing went wrong.
Inside the City Lord's Manor, the sound of weeping children drifted out. A gentle and fair-featured woman who looked under thirty, her eyes rimmed red with tears, was caring for the unconscious Meng Xinghai.
Qin Ming knew this had to be Meng Xinghai's wife.
"You must be Little Qin?" Zhou Qingxuan guessed his identity immediately.
Qin Ming said at once, "It's me. Auntie Meng, please don't worry. Uncle Meng is blessed by heaven; he will be fine."
The scent of medicine drifted through the room; Meng Xinghai had already been given rare, potent herbs.
"Are you Brother Qin Ming?"
Beside the bed, two tearful children looked up. They had often heard Meng Xinghai speak of Qin Ming, and upon meeting him for the first time, they placed immense trust in him.
The boy, around eleven or twelve, wiped the tears from his face and quickly explained Meng Xinghai's condition, saying that every method had been tried to no avail.
The girl was only around five years old. Her large, beautiful eyes were red and swollen, and she looked utterly helpless. She whispered, "Brother Qin Ming, can you save my father? Every time he returns to the ancestral home, he says how amazing you are, always creating miracles."
Clearly, they were at their wits' end and heartbroken. Pleading for help was born of trust, but also the desperation of clutching at straws. Seeing Qin Ming, the girl sobbed pitiably, begging him to try and save her father.
"Alright, I will do everything I can to save Uncle Meng!" Qin Ming said.
"Okay, Brother Qin Ming, I believe in you."
In the guest hall, two Grandmasters sat in silence.
One elderly man was someone Qin Ming knew—Meng Zhiyan.
Back when Qin Ming had suppressed Qi Yunxiao and captured Mu Xingyao and Cen Jinghong at the Thunder-Fire Gold-Forging Palace, Meng Zhiyan had stepped forward to negotiate with the outer-domain factions to demand ransom on his behalf.
After examining Meng Xinghai's physical condition, Qin Ming went to consult the two Grandmasters.
"Greetings, seniors."
"Good child, no need for formalities." Meng Zhiyan helped him up.
Qin Ming asked solemnly, "What exactly is Uncle Meng's condition?"
With white hair and beard, his eyes bloodshot, Meng Zhiyan said, "His soul is lost. His consciousness is gradually dissipating, and it happened right under our noses. Either he was captured by an unimaginable entity, or he became lost in the land he chose for achieving godhood. But we cannot find it."
The other Grandmaster added, "Right now, wisps of residual divine wisdom are still seeping outward."
Meng Xinghai was still far from achieving godhood, but he had begun searching in advance for a suitable realm. Such places did not exist in the mortal plane and were extraordinarily difficult to find.
Ultimately, Qin Ming returned to Meng Xinghai's bedside. Using methods of resonance, he captured the lingering emotional fluctuations and resonated with the escaping residual divine wisdom.
"Brother Qin Ming, you can save my father, right?" the little girl asked tearfully and meekly.
Her brother was comparatively more composed.
"Yes, don't worry!" Qin Ming consoled her.
In an instant, his consciousness, merged with heavenly light, left his body. Anchored to the tattered cloth, he followed the escaping divine wisdom.
Those residual specks of light soon sank into the void, their traces vanishing.
"Old Yellow, you are most sensitive to consciousness. Help me!" Qin Ming followed via resonance, but still found it difficult; that divine wisdom was seeping into an unknown location without leaving a trace.
The Yellow Silk Canopy was indeed an authority in this field. After brief contact, it reached a conclusion.
"Mm, I sense human malice. You must match the vibration frequency of that consciousness before you can follow its lingering ripples. Be patient."
Before long, following its guidance, Qin Ming used a special secret technique to mimic Meng Xinghai's consciousness until their fluctuations were identical.
Then, he set out immediately. Along the way, he had a premonition and saw a creature ahead—a golden body with three heads and six arms, carrying a silver-flamed lantern and guarding a ferry.
"Who are you, and how did you get in here?" the godlike golden figure barked.
"Divine intent!" Old Yellow informed him. "It's a phantom divided from a god."
This was human malice, and it even involved gods?
Qin Ming began to shine brilliantly, but concealed his true appearance. He stared fixedly at the three-headed, six-armed golden body; this creature had not yet reached the level of a Grandmaster.
He struck decisively. The purple-golden core inscribed with heaven and earth patterns flared with light, and a massive hand of lightning shot forth with a boom, seizing the creature.
"You desecrate a true god!"
"You're no damn true god!" Qin Ming suppressed it, resonated rapidly, and detonated it. Using the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts against such phantoms of divine intent was an innate counter.
"Like primordial celestial thunder scattering ghosts and spirits!" the Yellow Silk Canopy marveled.
A moment later, Qin Ming slew another golden divine intent along the way. Treading upon cyan soil, he walked toward the secluded, unique realm.
Upon his body, the patterns of the Script of the Primal Myriad Thunderbolts emerged like armor, gradually covering him and making him appear even more radiant and sacred than a deity.
Wherever Qin Ming passed, glowing footprints appeared one after another. Nearing his destination, he murmured softly, "If this is human malice, I will make you pay tenfold!"
Chapter 505