The princess returns to her residence and settles at the table in her garden. A maid sets down a plate of sweets, while Meilin arrives with a steaming pot of tea and gently pours a cup for her.
"Princess, what's the result?" Meilin asks softly.
Li Xueyao lifts the cup, her expression calm as she takes a sip. "He agreed."
Frustration flickers across Meilin's face. "Princess, must you really go through with this?"
Li Xueyao leans back in her chair, her gaze lowering to the tiled floor. "Everyone in court wants me married as soon as possible. Otherwise, they won't sleep peacefully."
Her voice grows faint, her thoughts drifting. She was born when her father was still a prince, and for fifteen years after her birth, he had no other children.
Only after ascending the throne, seven years ago, did two sons finally come—born of different mothers.
Now, with the king's health failing and death hanging close, the court's unease deepens.
If her father dies, she may not become queen, but she will serve as regent until one of her brothers comes of age. And the ministers and her uncle cannot allow that.
They push her toward marriage—because once married, her loyalty would belong to her husband's family. Those aligned with her uncle seek to bind her that way, while others want to marry her into their own bloodlines to secure influence through her.
Under such pressure, even her father ordered her to choose a husband. The court handed her a list of candidates, but her father never said she must pick from it.
So she chose Kong Wuya.
He had created a new realm of martial arts—an achievement that would shake the world after the news spread.
Danger would follow him, but if he survived, his influence would spread across the human realm. With his strength beside her, she could secure her position as queen once her father passed.
A faint, sly smile touches her lips as she imagines the faces of the ministers when she announces her choice. She chuckles softly, lifts her cup again, and takes another sip—this time without cooling it first.
"Ah!" she yelps, flinching as the hot tea scalds her lips, startling Meilin into a nervous laugh.
The next day, Kaelan sits cross-legged in silence, his mind deep in thought. He has already created and advanced to the Holy Fetus Realm, but what comes next?
His thoughts are not for himself alone—he is planning for those who will follow his path. If he wants to build a true civilisation, the method must be one that others can cultivate as well.
He decides to establish the Body-Refining Path of Wizard Cultivation.
Every cultivation must begin with visualisation, yet he cannot hand out his own visualisation map—the Crow Form—as it is too advanced.
If visualisation maps were ranked by difficulty, his would belong to the highest grade, one that only a handful of geniuses could comprehend.
But if he is to create a civilisation centred on the wizard's way, he doesn't need everyone to practise it—just enough for the foundation to take root.
At least seventy per cent of the world's living beings must be able to cultivate it. That means he must create simpler visualisation maps—basic, accessible, yet powerful enough to guide people toward the wizarding path.
He leaves his room, still thinking. As he walks through the corridor, servants and maids bow deeply.
Eventually, he steps into the back garden. His gaze sweeps over the stones, the grass swaying in the breeze, the rippling pond, the faint glow of sunlight on metal. Inspiration strikes.
The foundation of visualisation must come from nature itself.
For Earth: stone.
For Wood: grass.
For Water: dew.
For Fire: coal.
For Metal: iron.
But they cannot be mundane, he realises. Ordinary forms cannot nurture the extraordinary. Each must be drawn from a spiritual material that embodies its essence. Only then will the visualisation carry power.
He calls for a maid. "Bring me the most complete record of known spiritual materials," he orders.
The maid bows and hurries away as Kaelan's eyes gleam with quiet anticipation.
Five minutes later, a thick book bound in demon beast hide rests in his hands. He opens it and begins reading.
Two hours pass in silence, pages turning swiftly until he closes the book, mind brimming with knowledge. He recalls each spiritual material described within and considers which best embodies the five elements.
For Wood, he chooses Heart Grass—a low-level spiritual material linked to the early stage of transcendence, known for its gentle vitality and healing properties.
For Fire, Molten Coal—another low-grade material capable of generating spiritual flame.
For Earth, Golden Sandstone—dense, stable, resonating with endurance.
For Metal, Mysterious Iron—a rare mineral containing faint traces of metallic essence.
And for Water, Morning Dew—pure, fluid, and alive with gentle spiritual energy.
He orders the maid to purchase small quantities of each.
Half an hour later, Chen Wei arrives carrying five jade boxes, each sealed to prevent spiritual leakage. "Lord," he says, bowing, "news of the princess and your upcoming marriage has spread throughout the city."
Kaelan glances up briefly. "She acted fast. What's the reaction?"
"Mostly neutral," Chen Wei replies.
Kaelan nods and lowers his gaze to the boxes, deep in thought. The challenge now lies in comprehending the elemental mysteries hidden within these materials. He senses Chen Wei still standing nearby and lifts his eyes. "Do you need something else?"
Chen Wei hesitates. "Lord, when will you teach us the cultivation method?"
"Soon," Kaelan answers calmly. "You may go. I'm busy right now."
After Chen Wei leaves, Kaelan whispers to himself, "To grasp their mysteries, I must absorb their spiritual essence."
His gaze lingers on the jade boxes. Which element first? he wonders. Then a faint smile touches his lips. "Wood," he murmurs. "The easiest to begin with."
He releases his mana, forming a thin layer of energy that seals the air around the first box, preventing the loss of spiritual energy. Lifting the lid, he finds ten blades of grass curled like tiny hearts.
He picks one up, his mana wrapping it gently, and closes the box immediately.
The faint vitality of the Heart Grass pulses in his palm, carrying a soft and tranquil rhythm.
He guides the wood element spiritual energy inward, forming a translucent bubble around it so his mana doesn't interfere as it drifts into his spirit space. When it reaches the glowing Holy Fetus, he releases the bubble.
A wave of cool serenity flows through him. The gentle pulse of life brushes against his spirit, soothing yet elusive. He focuses, trying to grasp the essence before the energy fades completely.
When it dissipates, he opens his eyes, uncertain. Did I comprehend something… or nothing at all?
Without indulging the thought, he takes another strand of Heart Grass and repeats the process.
The second attempt brings deeper clarity—the faint rhythm of vitality becomes easier to perceive—but it's still far from enough to construct even the simplest visualisation map for a beginner wizard apprentice.
He continues without pause. Hours pass. The sun sinks, painting the sky crimson, and by the time the moon rises, he finishes absorbing the third Heart Grass. His eyes open, faint light flickering within them.
As he reaches toward the jade box for another, he notices a maid standing quietly before him.
Seeing him awaken, she bows lightly. "Lord, a woman named Soraya has come to meet you."
Kaelan rises, his expression unreadable. "Put these boxes in my room."
He turns toward the corridor leading to the living hall, his mind already shifting. Soraya… she must have come to ask for a favour.
In the living room, Soraya stands waiting, her posture calm but her gaze steady.
"Soraya, welcome," Kaelan says, sitting across from her. "You could have called me. I would have come to visit you."
She shakes her head slightly. "It doesn't matter who comes to whom."
Kaelan leans back against the seat, eyes half-lidded. "True. So, why are you here? I doubt it's a simple visit."
Soraya nods. "It's not. I hadn't planned to ask this soon, but after seeing your strength… I decided to."
Kaelan isn't surprised. He expected this. They aren't close enough for casual visits. "What do you need me to do?"
"There's an auction tomorrow night," Soraya says. "I need protection once we leave the auction house."
Kaelan rises without hesitation. "Then we're leaving now."
She inclines her head. "That would be best."
"Wait a few minutes," he says, turning toward his room. "Then we'll go."
Inside, he gathers all his demon stones and spirit stones, storing them neatly. When he returns, Soraya is already waiting near the gate.
They leave the city together, the night wind sweeping past as they rise into the sky.
Now that his cultivation has advanced to the Holy Fetus Realm, Kaelan no longer needs to channel his spirit to fly—his mana alone carries him effortlessly through the air as they head south.