Chapter 95 – Transformation of the Body

Shi Chan had not deliberately remained hidden in his room—he had simply miscalculated the length of his seclusion.

Though some time had already passed since he had broken through to the Foundation Establishment stage, his cultivation had stalled. The accumulation of energy during this period, along with refining the temporary mark, brought him to a critical point. The instant he fully refined that temporary mark, the resulting insight directly catalyzed another breakthrough. In one stroke, Shi Chan pierced through the bottleneck and advanced into mid-Foundation Establishment.

He had no choice but to remain in seclusion longer to stabilize his cultivation.

Time is meaningless in cultivation. After an unknown span, Shi Chan finally smoothed the flow of spiritual power within his body and opened his eyes.

Awakening from meditation, he blinked at the tech-laden room before him, stunned for a moment before recalling where he was.
“How long… has it been?”

Outside the door, Xi Ming had already circulated his spiritual power countless times. By now, the technique ran through him instinctively.

At the very moment Shi Chan finished his cultivation, the spiritual energy that had always been drawn into his body ceased its pull and instead dispersed through the air. Some of the faint qi lingering nearby quivered, tugged by a tiny gravitational force, and drifted into Xi Ming’s body.

That faint aura, enveloped by Xi Ming’s spiritual power, melted into him like snow vanishing into the earth—silently, invisibly altering him.

The fluctuation was weak, but with only a door between them, Shi Chan sensed it at once, eyes lighting up in delight.

Xi Ming could… cultivate?!

Shi Chan stepped silently out of his room, soothing the two pets that had grown restless at the sight of him so they wouldn’t disturb Xi Ming’s realization. Then, extending his divine sense over the entire building, he warded against any interruption.

Only then did he notice that he and Xi Ming were the building’s only occupants. Casting his divine sense further, he realized the surroundings had changed drastically since before his seclusion.

He still remembered the scene: training grounds, rows of hastily erected barracks, a vast and busy frontline command center, enormous starship docks…

Now, most of those temporary wartime constructions had vanished. In their place stood numerous administrative offices resembling the command center.

Towering buildings. Brilliant lights.

Compared with the former encampment, this place now truly resembled the political heart of a planet.

Yet Xi Ming, eyes shut, remained wholly unaware that the Shi Chan he longed for had already awoken and stood only a short distance away.

Xi Ming had entered a profound state.

The techniques Shi Chan once taught him—even explained many times—had always felt obscure, their truths as hazy as flowers seen through mist, impossible to truly grasp.

But this time was different. Repeatedly circulating the technique, Xi Ming felt not only the tearing pain within his body but, rising from that endless agony, a comfort beyond words—

As though a world of parched earth and dried seas welcomed its first rainfall.

A new, unfamiliar yet vibrant energy sprouted inside him.

Though weak, that nascent force was like the first spark in endless night: within this interstellar world, Xi Ming became the very first—and only—native to touch and command the spiritual energy that had always pervaded the cosmos, yet had never once been harnessed.

Standing guard, Shi Chan suddenly looked upward, a flicker of vigilance flashing through him. For an instant, he felt the gaze of something vast and unfathomable pressing down, suffocating him. But just as quickly, it vanished. No matter how he probed with divine sense, he found nothing amiss.

But Xi Ming’s state abruptly worsened. His face went deathly pale, his body trembling, sweat pouring from his brow. The ambient qi surged wildly, flooding toward him in torrents, battering his body from within.

Had Shi Chan’s cultivation been higher, he would have seen that spiritual energy across the entire planet—and even beyond into the void of space—was being drawn as if by some unseen hand, spiraling straight into Xi Ming’s body.

But even without that perspective, the chaos before him was enough: at this rate, within three seconds Xi Ming would collapse under the unbearable influx.

Shi Chan’s joy drained in an instant, leaving his face ashen.

He had no time to think. His only instinct was to break Xi Ming free of this state immediately.

But the once-gentle aura repelled him, refusing his approach.

“Xi Ming!” Shi Chan shouted, helpless, watching as blood seeped from every pore of Xi Ming’s skin, which split and healed, split and healed again in rapid succession beneath the onslaught.

The two pets, once nestled against him, now lay flattened against the floor under the crushing pressure. Shi Chan himself felt the strain, but he had no choice. The thought of Xi Ming perishing in mere seconds was unbearable.

Forcing himself forward despite the rejection, Shi Chan tried every method he knew to reach Xi Ming, to wake him—or…

At last, through his repeated efforts to touch Xi Ming with his spiritual power, Xi Ming responded, releasing his own. Their powers brushed, and in the midst of torment, Xi Ming’s energy twined eagerly with Shi Chan’s.

Once their spiritual powers entangled, Shi Chan seemed to be “accepted,” perhaps even regarded as part of Xi Ming himself. Suddenly the resistance vanished—he was pulled directly against Xi Ming, embraced by that surging tide.

Yet there was no relief. The stench of blood grew stronger, and the spiritual influx showed no sign of slowing.

Shi Chan had never heard of such a thing—qi rushing with this madness into a human body. His knowledge gave him no answers.

All he could do was probe Xi Ming with his power, as he had when they first met…

But the instant his spiritual sense sought to enter Xi Ming’s body, an overwhelming sense of peril engulfed him. His instincts screamed warnings, sharper with each breath, until his heart pounded with dread.

Leave—leave now, as far as possible! Every fiber of his being repeated the command.

In his past life, such instincts had saved him many times. Even at the moment of his own death, his premonitions had never been this strong.

Shi Chan knew with chilling clarity: if he persisted, he would die.

But when he looked at Xi Ming, drenched in blood and teetering on the edge of ruin, his gaze darkened. He clenched his teeth.

And without hesitation, he chose to continue.

Boom—

The spiritual energy that had been endlessly gathering in Xi Ming’s body finally found a channel of release. Following the link where their spiritual powers touched, it poured out in a torrent, rushing impatiently into Shi Chan’s body.

In an instant, there were two people drenched in blood.

The intense pain finally woke Xi Ming. As soon as he regained awareness, the first thing he saw was Shi Chan before him, his whole body soaked in blood.

“Chan…” Xi Ming tried to open his mouth to speak, but his throat was also being ravaged by the spiritual energy. He couldn’t even form a complete syllable.

Fear flashed clearly in Xi Ming’s eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch Shi Chan, but realized he had already lost control of his body. All he could feel was an immense and alien energy surging violently inside him, continuously battering and altering his physique.

At the same time, a portion of that energy was rushing through the connection of their spiritual powers into Shi Chan’s body—that was the source of Shi Chan’s agony.

Xi Ming wanted desperately to cut off that channel, but he was powerless. He could only watch helplessly as Shi Chan’s body kept tearing and healing, new wounds opening as old ones closed, his complexion turning rapidly ashen, looking as if he were on the brink of death.

At this moment, Xi Ming’s anguish in his heart far outweighed the torment of his flesh.

He didn’t understand what was happening, where this energy came from, why Shi Chan was by his side, and why he was enduring such pain. He didn’t understand how this longed-for reunion with Shi Chan had turned into such a nightmare.

Xi Ming didn’t understand where this suffering came from. He didn’t understand why his fate was always filled with so much pain. He clearly had the time of two lifetimes, and yet it seemed like he had only ever been losing—he lost his parents, his kin, his comrades, his honor, his nation; he lost his healthy body, his upright compassion, everything he had once been proud of.

And now… was he going to lose Shi Chan too?

Xi Ming was unwilling.

If this was retribution for his choice of revenge, for the countless lives he had destroyed, then why did it have to drag Shi Chan into it?

He could bear it alone. No matter how many times the pain was multiplied, even if torment ground him into dust and erased him from this world—as long as it didn’t hurt Shi Chan…

Xi Ming was willing.

Staring at Shi Chan’s deathly pale face, feeling the energy constantly flowing from his own body into Shi Chan’s, Xi Ming’s heart hardened with a decisive resolve—

No matter the reason, no matter what had happened, Xi Ming could not allow himself to hurt Shi Chan.

Just as Shi Chan had, without hesitation, chosen to approach him earlier, Xi Ming also didn’t hesitate in the slightest. He began to withdraw his spiritual power—if his body was beyond his control, then he would rather self-destruct his spiritual power to sever this channel, this torrent that was clearly exceeding their limits and clearly harming Shi Chan.

Xi Ming’s suicidal impulse was clearly not what this world intended. At the very moment before he could explode, he found his consciousness pulled into a strange, unfamiliar space…

---

Even though Shi Chan had braced himself to bear the massive influx of energy, the spiritual energy flowing from Xi Ming was still too fierce. It stunned him for an instant, and when he recovered, he struggled to circulate his cultivation method, trying to refine the energy into his own spiritual power—but the effect was minimal.

Amid overwhelming agony, Shi Chan felt as though he kept losing consciousness, only to be awakened again by even greater waves of pain. His whole being was like his ravaged body—torn apart by spiritual energy, then stitched back together, over and over, collapsing, healing, fainting, waking.

It was as if time itself slowed down, forcing him to fully experience the torment. Shi Chan could see his own body breaking down and reforming, his consciousness teetering on the edge of shattering along with the pain.

This was not the first time he had approached death. But it was the first time it had been this excruciating. Compared to this, even the heavenly tribulation lightning he once dreaded so much had been easy to endure.

And yet, as he looked at Xi Ming before him, Shi Chan felt he could still hold on. Even if he was destined to die here, he wanted to endure for just one more second, one second more…

Because if he died now, with so much spiritual energy still surging wildly, how could his Xi Ming—who had only just begun to cultivate—possibly withstand it?

His mind was about to shut down from the pain, but Shi Chan still thought of one desperate, reckless idea.

He gave up trying to refine the spiritual energy. Instead, Shi Chan forced the little spiritual power he could still control to stab through his own meridians again and again, tearing them apart…

It was even more painful this way. But this way, the excess spiritual energy would leak out of his body. Even if that leaked energy would just be absorbed back into Xi Ming and surge into him again, at least it would buy him more time.

Time became unbearably long…

Shi Chan’s gaze stayed fixed, unblinking, on Xi Ming. He felt he might lose consciousness completely in the very next instant, vanish from this world.

And yet, Shi Chan did not regret it.

He felt profoundly grateful that he had been able to come to this world, that he had met Xi Ming, and that he had shared a stretch of beautiful time with him.

His only regret, perhaps, was that he had gone into seclusion. If he had known this crisis was coming, he thought, he would rather have spent his last days simply staying by Xi Ming’s side.

Shi Chan did not fear death. But he truly cherished the moments he had with Xi Ming.

Time sped past as spiritual energy spilled wildly out of Shi Chan’s body. His meridians were quickly left riddled with wounds, to the point where he could no longer even circulate the basics of his energy.

But time also crawled painfully slow—slow enough for Shi Chan to recall every moment he had shared with Xi Ming, even remembering long ago when he first saw Xi Ming’s image in a news report on the StarNet.

In these beautiful memories, Shi Chan’s gaze grew increasingly unfocused. The pain was unbearable. His body was falling apart completely, his spiritual power collapsing too…

He thought he wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer.

And just before he lost consciousness entirely, he seemed to see Xi Ming opening his arms to embrace him…

If he could leave this world in Xi Ming’s arms, then that was enough…