Chapter 37: Forging the Soul Upon Heaven and Earth

One year later.

By the Blackwater Demon Lake, the fragrant aroma of Fish Soup wafted through the air.

Second Elder sat by the large cauldron, holding a bowl and chopsticks. Feng Bo Ping, adhering to the pre-meal soup ritual, scooped a spoonful of the steaming broth into his bowl and savored it slowly. His eyes sparkled as he couldn’t help but exclaim:

"Little Squirrel’s skill—almost matches that of the Imperial Kitchen!"

"Ugh, I’ve eaten this for a whole year and still haven’t grown tired. That’s strange."

Li Moxiu was genuinely amazed. He never expected Li Hao to possess such extraordinary culinary talent—his skill had only improved with time.

"Old Feng, have you ever actually eaten in the Imperial Kitchen?" Li Hao asked with a smile.

"Stole a bite once," Feng Bo Ping replied, his silver hair and youthful face curling into a mischievous grin. He licked his lips, as if reliving the memory. "Left half a bowl behind—still had my saliva on it. Don’t know whose favorite concubine it ended up in."

"You old rogue, if you’d served that to Emperor Yu himself, you’d have lost your head!" Li Moxiu retorted, clearly aware of the old thief’s audacious past deeds.

Li Hao couldn’t help but laugh. He’d long known the Thief Sage’s boundless appetite for stealing—last time, the man even tried to gift him a silk scarf so thin it was like a cicada’s wing, supposedly belonging to some sect’s Holy Maiden. The Second Master had chased him halfway across the river, kicking him all the way, before the scarf incident was finally abandoned.

It remained a quiet regret in Li Hao’s heart—first time he’d ever thought the Second Master was too meddlesome.

"Life is short—must taste everything worth tasting!" Feng Bo Ping chuckled heartily.

Li Hao picked up his own bowl and began eating. As Second Elder teased him, a sudden thought struck him.

Before his eyes, a glowing script appeared:

[You have awakened the Heart of Culinary Dao.]

Li Hao’s pupils flickered with light, then returned to calm. This was exactly what he’d expected.

Ever since he’d mastered cooking at the third stage in record time, he’d pushed himself to feel it—immersing himself in the kitchen, chatting with the head chefs, learning from them.

To the Heaven’s Chosen One, the Young Master of Li Clan—these chefs, though baffled by his interest, treated him with utmost respect. Though it was absurd, they shared everything they knew.

Through endless conversations, Li Hao discovered the vast depth of the culinary arts—its intricacies rivaling even the most profound martial arts. The countless ingredients, the precise use of seasonings, the mastery of heat, the techniques for removing fishy odors and enhancing flavor…

It became a new world to him—one vibrant, rich, and endlessly fascinating.

Without realizing it, he’d skipped the phase of cooking just for experience. Now, he did it purely out of passion. Even without experience points, he’d seek every chance to cook—just to create something beautiful.

In recent days, every dessert delivered to the Mountain and River Courtyard was tasted by him personally. If it was poorly made, he’d flip the plate without hesitation, summoning the cook to face his critique.

When one truly feels something, perfection becomes inevitable. Just like in games—those who play for fun don’t care about losing, but the ones who want to win are the ones who rage when they fail.

Now, with the Heart of Culinary Dao awakened, Li Hao felt no overwhelming joy. After giving your all to something, the result becomes secondary. The same had happened with the Chess Heart before.

But now, with this Mind State in hand, he could finally attempt the Fourth Level of the Imperial Dao.

The three of them chatted casually, finishing their meal. Li Hao selected some choice bones and fed them to the little white fox beside him.

The fox was now a year and a half old—still small and delicate, its fur a brilliant, snow-white sheen. Thanks to the spirit-essence fruits Li Hao had given it daily, and the nourishing Fish Soup, the little creature had begun cultivation. It had reached the Fifth Level of the Comprehensive Strength Stage.

Once a wild fox from the mountains, it was now a spirit beast—glimmers of spiritual qi flickering in its frame. If it ever reached the Circulation Realm, it would awaken true sentience.

By the time it attained the Continuation of Soul Realm, it would achieve a phantom-like presence, invisible to the naked eye.

After lunch, they spent the afternoon fishing. But Li Hao only caught one Second-Level Cosmic Circulation Spirit Fish—not a good day for luck.

Returning to the Pavilion of Listening to Rain, Li Hao cradled the little white fox in his arms as he walked back to the Mountain and River Courtyard. Once inside, he locked himself in his room, then summoned his Character Panel.

After a moment of reflection, he decided to apply the newly gained Mind State to his Yi Dao breakthrough.

The result was instant.

Yi Dao surged from its third stage to the fourth.

Previously, the three-stage Yi Dao had enabled his meridians to open at lightning speed. Now, with the fourth stage unlocked—what new insights might it bring to the Great Meridian and Breathing Technique?

As the attribute points settled, a flood of information surged into his mind. Only after several long moments did Li Hao slowly open his eyes.

His gaze was clear, sharp, and filled with quiet wonder.

The world around him had changed.

The sky, the earth, the wind—everything pulsed with unseen life.

The World Breathes with Spirit!

"Spirit Beasts inherit the essence of stars and moon... Soul Inheritance demands the acceptance of the original soul's will. One must abide by certain 'covenants'."

"Humans may inherit from humans, from Spirit Beasts, or even from the myriad races."

"Likewise, humans may inherit from the races of the world—mountain spirits, ghostly entities, true dragons, celestial phoenixes... or even—"

"—the stars, the sun and moon, the very land and sky itself!"

Recalling the martial arts scrolls he’d studied in the Pavilion of Listening to Rain, combined with his own cultivation methods, Li Hao felt a sudden, overwhelming clarity.

To inherit a human soul—must carry their thoughts.

To inherit a Spirit Beast soul—must carry their nature.

To inherit the heavens and earth—must carry their weight.

"I shall forge my soul upon heaven and earth!"

Li Hao’s eyes blazed with fierce determination.

He activated the Ten Thousand Aspects Attribute, enveloping his body in a veil of concealment. Unless struck with immense force, no outsider could sense his presence.

Then, his Qi surged through the Great Meridian. The Yin and Yang meridians flared to life, spiraling upward, converging at the crown of his head.

Instantly, his power exploded—rippling through his body, surging beyond limits. A terrifying force built within him, threatening to burst through his skin, to tear through the invisible barrier between man and cosmos.

He reached out—seeking the heavens. Seeking the earth. Seeking that one sliver of power from the vast universe.

As if responding to his call, a crushing, overwhelming pressure descended upon him—like a mountain made of pure spirit descending from the sky. His bones cracked under the weight.

The weight of heaven and earth is heavier than Mount Tai.

Li Hao’s eyes turned red. A silent roar tore through his soul.

The power of Yin and Yang erupted—doubling in strength, surging past nine million catties.

For a fleeting moment, the universe seemed to lift him up—only to slam him back down with even greater force.

His body bent forward. His feet sank deep into the wooden floor.

He gritted his teeth. He knew brute force wouldn’t work. He hadn’t yet glimpsed The Form of the Universe.

What was The Form of the Universe?

Was it the sky? The clouds? The rivers and mountains? The earth beneath our feet?

All were parts of it—but not the whole.

And now, he sought to forge his soul upon the universe.

So, what form did the universe take in his heart?

A line from a Buddhist sutra in the Pavilion of Listening to Rain flashed through his mind:

"The Buddha has no form."

If the Buddha has no form… then how could the heavens and earth have one?

"I exist within this universe. Therefore, I am the reflection of the universe!"

Light erupted from Li Hao’s eyes.

All his Spirit, Qi, and Essence poured outward—breaking through an invisible barrier, merging with the cosmos.

Above his body, a faint, shimmering phantom image began to form—the silhouette of himself.

He made his body the image of the universe.

He made the universe the soul within him.

In that instant—

Li Hao stepped into the Continuation of Soul Realm.

An endless tide of power poured into him—from the sky, from the void, from every direction.

The curtains in the room trembled violently. The windows and doors were shut—but wind howled through the room as if the world itself had opened its mouth.

Outside, in the courtyard, the Pavilion.

Li Fu had stopped shadowing Li Hao’s every move, but still remained in the same courtyard.

Now, he was playing Go with Zhao Bo—not out of passion, but because Li Hao had forced him to learn, and now, in his free time, this was the only pastime he could find.

If Li Hao had seen the board, he’d have muttered: "Chicken fights."

Suddenly, both men froze—fingers hovering over their stones. Without a word, they both looked up, toward Li Hao’s room.

A chill crept down their spines. A sensation like something immense had awakened—like a god stirring from slumber.

What… was that?

In an instant, they abandoned their game and shot toward Li Hao’s room.

When they burst through the door, the scene was chaotic. Vases lined along the edge of the posture platform had fallen, shattered into pieces.

But Li Hao stood in the center—feet buried deep in the floorboards, breathing heavily, as if he’d just finished a grueling cultivation session.

“What happened?” Zhao Bo asked.

Seeing no sign of attack, they relaxed. Then they rushed to Li Hao’s side.

Li Hao had already stabilized the surge of soul succession. The Ten Thousand Forms Concealment had sealed his scattered Qi. He wiped sweat from his brow and exhaled.

"Just practicing cultivation," he said.

"You reckless boy—why not train outside?" Li Fu scolded, but with no suspicion.

Li Hao’s body cultivation progress was no secret. Li Fu knew the general level, but not the exact depth.

"Just had a sudden insight," Li Hao explained.

"Then that’s good," Zhao Bo smiled. Though the broken vases were centuries old—priceless antiques—any progress in Li Hao’s cultivation made it worthwhile.

With their minds at ease, Li Hao returned to his room, savoring the depth of the Continuation of Soul Realm. It was far beyond the Circulation Realm.

No wonder only those who reached this realm were considered fit to guard a city.

And now, at just nine years old, Li Hao could already command a fortress.

...

After Soul Inheritance, Li Hao’s life carried on as usual.

Daily meals, fishing trips, painting, chess, cooking in the kitchen.

As time passed, the Young Master devised new pastimes—learning poetry, mastering the zither. It seemed he was heading deeper and deeper into the realm of useless pursuits.

Time flew.

Spring passed. Autumn arrived.

In the blink of an eye—five years had gone by.

The 14th year of the Qingyuan Era.

This year, Li Hao turned fourteen.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end