Chapter 11: The Mountain-Moving Visualization

“There are eleven water flasks here. I’ve already divided the clean water inside evenly—each has five mouthfuls,” Wei Cheng said calmly inside the mine shaft. “There are also eleven vegetable cakes.” He looked at the group. “This is what I scavenged from those dried corpses. Now, I’m dividing them equally among us.”

He had wrestled with himself over whether to keep it all for himself. If he did, he could have advanced his inner strength by three cycles in one go. No one would dare object. But considering the existence of other teams—especially the reward for being the first to conquer the Transmission Stele, which was truly precious—he knew he needed to unite the group as much as possible and raise their average strength. Who knew what might happen next?

For a moment, the others’ eyes flickered with surprise. “Wei, you’re generous,” Yu Liang said, grinning as he quickly grabbed a water flask and a vegetable cake. Good stuff, both. “Thanks, Wei,” Zhang Yong said with a hint of embarrassment as he collected his share.

The bald man came forward, gave a simple smile, said nothing, and took his portion. Silent Han Dong nodded to Wei Cheng and did the same. The others hurried forward as well—no one would refuse a share, no matter how polite they tried to appear. After all, they were glad to have someone like Wei Cheng in the group.

Wei Cheng took his own share. Of course, the fact that he’d secretly kept two bags of clean water, twenty vegetable cakes, three pieces of jadeite ore, and one piece of black iron ore didn’t need to be known. This is how people’s hearts are won, bit by bit. He didn’t need their loyalty or expect them not to act in their own best interest after careful weighing. All he hoped was that in times of chaos or crisis, they would instinctively follow his orders. That would suffice. What harm could come from such an upright and honest man?

Now, everyone devoted themselves to cultivating, striving to accumulate enough inner strength for two cycles and open their second innate meridian.

Wei Cheng, however, did not rush into cultivation. He sat there, lost in thought. By now, many things were becoming clear, such as why their progress in cultivation was so rapid. First, the initial three seconds of the divine light’s shine must have altered everyone’s physical constitution. Second, the special water and vegetable cakes were not ordinary. Third, the Transmission Stele had forcefully instilled the cultivation method into their minds, resulting in this accelerated progress.

Originally, Wei Cheng hadn’t thought much of it. But after he’d been exposed to that strange light three times, his spiritual power had increased dramatically. Now, not only did he cultivate more adeptly, he could also reflect—pondering the deeper mysteries of the Mountain-moving Method.

Then he discovered something: the mountain-moving inner strength, though seemingly at his command, was actually guiding him at a subtler level. To put it nicely, it was profound and wondrous. Put harshly, he was but a puppet on a string.

He could only operate it crudely—forcing the inner strength to fill his body, activating his protective energy roughly—without understanding how the energy harmonized with his body or bestowed him such an advantage. He knew the “how,” but not the “why.”

If his spiritual power hadn’t become so strong, if he weren’t so adept, he could never have changed anything, even if he realized the problem. It would be like having a pile of red beans mixed with green ones—you know how to sort them, but lack the means to do so.

But now, Wei Cheng’s spiritual power was sufficient to discern the true patterns within the chaos of detail. So, rather than continuing to cultivate more mountain-moving energy, he focused on understanding the true essence of the Mountain-moving Method.

Taking out a water flask, he drank deeply, exhaled softly, and adjusted his breath, turning his mind inward. His powerful spiritual sense met with his mountain-moving energy. Unfortunately, the two could not resonate; they had no connection. At that moment, the mountain-moving energy felt like a passing stranger.

This was what Wei Cheng found most intolerable. The energy coursed as usual—through meridians, apertures, organs, flesh, and bone—completing a circuit around his body. Nothing seemed different. But today, with all his spiritual power focused, he noticed something new: the mountain-moving energy didn’t flow like a mighty river as he’d thought. On a finer level, its circulation formed intense, wave-like undulations in a very short time, as if creating a range of mountains.

“A line? A mountain? Mountain-moving?” The discovery excited him. He understood the difference between lines and planes. He’d thought the energy traveled along meridians (lines), connecting apertures (points), and thus covered the whole body. Still, he struggled to comprehend where the two innate meridians he’d opened actually were.

He could sense them, thanks to the Transmission Stele’s unlocking, but not truly understand them. Now, though, he felt as if he were drawing closer to the truth.

Mountain-moving energy wasn’t just moving along lines—it was perhaps circulating across planes, or even three-dimensionally, permeating his body in ways he couldn’t easily observe.

He continued to operate the Mountain-moving Method, no longer concerned with speed or the quantity of energy generated. Instead, he focused on the mode of circulation, trying to understand every curve and undulation.

One cycle after another—fifteen in total—until he finally memorized all the wave-like variations in the energy’s circulation. It was incredibly difficult—there were three hundred sixty thousand changes. Without his greatly enhanced spiritual power, he wouldn’t have even approached the threshold.

But once he’d committed all the variations to memory, a picture naturally emerged in his mind—a grand map of towering mountain ranges. Yes, those three hundred sixty thousand curves formed a map of mountains and ridges. Though still rough—like the clumsy outline of mountains drawn by a beginner—it was, unmistakably, a mountain.

A continuous peal of thunder rumbled in Wei Cheng’s mind. The Transmission Stele appeared again; new information was unlocked. Not much, but precious all the same. He had obtained a secret visualization diagram for moving mountains, perfectly matching the Mountain-moving Method.

Now, as he operated the method, his energy no longer moved from point to line, but flowed according to the contour of that mountain map. There was no going back. No need to crudely divide his focus—no more “starts at the dantian, passes through the organs, reaches the limbs,” no more consideration of meridians or apertures. What mattered were the two innate meridians hidden beneath the mountainous terrain.

As his energy circulated, the sounds of dragons and tigers echoed in his heart, growing louder and clearer. In the end, Wei Cheng could not suppress a shout.

“Command!”

With a thunderous explosion, as if a bolt of lightning struck on the spot, the mountain visualization in his mind transformed into real mountains, towering and majestic. His mountain-moving energy became as a divine dragon.

The second stage of the Golden Bell Shield activated automatically; with a hum, the phantom bell merged with the mountain range, becoming almost tangible.

A resounding clang rang out, shattering the bell and dissolving it into nothingness—but the one who struck the bell, the Stone Fiend, fainted instantly.

This creature had always been elusive, coming and going without a trace. Who would have thought it would be knocked unconscious at this moment?

Wei Cheng could no longer restrain himself. Without even grabbing his pickaxe, he pounced, pinning the creature with one hand and raising a fist the size of a sandbag with the other. Mountain-moving energy gathered, forming a faint image of mountain ridges within his fist.

With the first punch, rocks shattered. With the second, blood gushed forth. With the third, both excrement and urine flew in all directions.