Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

Yang spent the first hours inside the library solely perusing the shelves. He had access to three whole floors, and he went through each one methodically. The upper floors were inaccessible to him, blocked by formation barriers that shimmered faintly when he approached. Those floors contained cultivation techniques, and he would need points to access them.

For now, he was more than satisfied with having access to knowledge he’d been unable to obtain in his second life.

He was from the age of the internet. He’d been used to having access to the whole world within his palm. He’d used to think of himself as poverty stricken in his first life, but honestly speaking, he didn’t know what poverty and hardship were until he was reborn in this world.

He missed having access to knowledge. Missed learning things. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much.

Here, surrounded by books, he wanted to gather them all. Read them obsessively. Devour every word on every page. But he kept himself in control. It wouldn’t be good to come across as insane to your fellow disciples on your first day.

He went to the shelves that seemed geared toward the basics and gathered books on almost all the subjects. Then found himself an isolated corner to look through them.

As Yang settled in with his stack of books, something struck him as odd. He looked around, scanning the shelves nearby, then ventured to check other sections. He couldn’t find anything related to path and fate. Which was surprising considering how much he’d seen cultivators spouting those two words. One would think the library would be leaking books about those subjects.

But nothing. Not a single book or scroll on either of those particular topics.

Which told Yang more than he’d known before.

Whatever it was about paths and fates was something the cultivators at higher cultivation knew. But not something they wanted the new ones to have access to.

He left it for now and settled down with one of the books. The book was pretty good, and he hoped that along with the knowledge in this book and the manual given by the sect, he’d be able to gather and draw qi in soon.

According to this book, when a beginner cultivator first starts meditating, they need to sit still and slow their breathing to match a steady rhythm. With each inhale, they drew in faint strands of qi from the surrounding air, and with each exhale, they released impure energy from their body. At first, the qi is supposed to feel thin and difficult to sense, and can sometimes almost be confused for fresh air. But once a cultivator learns to distinguish it in the air, the drawing it in part is supposed to be easier.

The absorbed qi enters the meridians slowly, often stuttering or meeting resistance in narrow or blocked sections. The cultivator has to guide it using focus and breathing patterns, and circulate it through basic routes taught in their technique. 

This circulation strengthens the body and gradually clears the pathways, though it can cause mild discomfort, tingling, or soreness as blockages loosen.

After completing a full cycle through the meridians, the qi is supposed to be guided down into the dantian where it gathers as a small, unstable mass of energy. At the beginner stage, very little qi can be stored, and much of it disperses once concentration breaks. Progress is slow, requiring long hours of repeated meditation sessions to gradually build a stable foundation.

Early cultivation focuses less on power and more on control, purity, and consistency. Forming the groundwork for all higher realms. Breaking concentration too often, forcing qi too quickly, or skipping refinement could lead to unstable cultivation or minor internal injuries.

This worried him considering he spent quite a few years of his childhood popping beast cores like candies but he continued.

This book was quite good. While the sect had given a manual, this seemed written from some cultivator’s own perspective of his cultivation journey. Personal insights that made the technical process more understandable.

Yang also looked through other books and was fascinated to see how many types of cultivation professions there were. Apart from the known ones like alchemy, beast training, talismans, formations, tool refining, and cooking, which he’d found existed here, there were also farming, healing, architecture, weaving, music, calligraphy.

According to one author, anything that could be done, anything that existed, any concept that existed, could be cultivated.

The idea was staggering. It meant the cultivation world was far more vast than Yang had imagined. Far more diverse in its paths and possibilities.

He lost himself in reading. Moving from one book to the next. Taking mental notes of important concepts. Cross-referencing information between different texts. Comparing perspectives and techniques.

The hours passed without his awareness. The library grew quieter as disciples finished their reading and departed. The light from the windows shifted as the sun moved across the sky.

Yang remained absorbed. Surrounded by knowledge. Finally able to learn about the world he’d been thrown into years ago.

It was only at night when the librarians started kicking people out that Yang finally regained his senses. He looked up, blinking in confusion as a junior librarian approached his table.

”The library is closing,” the young man said politely. ”You’ll need to leave now.”

Yang stood quickly, gathering the books he’d been reading. He returned them to their proper shelves, then made his way to the exit. Elder Shi was still at his desk near the entrance, reviewing scrolls by lamplight.

Yang bowed as he passed. ”Thank you, Elder Shi.”

The elder looked up and nodded. ”Come back tomorrow if you wish. The library opens at dawn.”

Yang stepped outside. The night air was cool against his skin. He realized with a start that he’d been so immersed in his reading that he’d missed lunch entirely.

He quickly made his way to the food hall. His stomach growled with hunger, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

When he arrived, the hall was almost empty. Only a few cafeteria workers remained, cleaning up the last of the dinner service. Tables were wiped down. Benches straightened. Dishes being collected and carried away.

They were surprised to see him. A senior sister looked up from where she was wiping a table. ”We’re closed, junior brother. Dinner ended an hour ago.”

Yang’s face fell. He’d been so absorbed in the library that he’d completely lost track of time. ”I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. ”I missed both lunch and dinner. I was in the library and didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

The senior sister’s expression softened. She looked at his disappointed face and sighed. Then she gestured to a bench. ”Sit down. It’s okay. There are leftovers. I’ll bring you something.”

Yang was extremely grateful. He sat where she indicated, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen area.

She returned with a hefty serving on a tray. Rice. Vegetables. And a fish dish that smelled incredible.

Yang quickly dug in. The food was still good, even reheated. The fish especially was delicious, tender and seasoned perfectly. He looked up at the senior sister. ”This fish is excellent. Really delicious.”

The senior sister beamed at that. ”That was my dish. I made it this afternoon.”

Yang praised it a lot more as he continued eating. Complimenting the flavor and the texture. The senior sister looked pleased, clearly happy to have her cooking appreciated.

When Yang finished, he thanked her profusely and left the cafeteria.

He walked leisurely toward his cave to help him digest his food. He needed the exercise after sitting for the whole day in the library. His legs were stiff from hours of remaining stationary. His back ached slightly from hunching over books.

The night was beautiful. The stars shone brightly overhead, unobscured by city lights or pollution. The air was clean and cool. Other disciples passed by occasionally, but most had already retired to their caves for evening meditation or sleep.

Yang walked and thought about what he’d learned today. He realized how it was barely a scratch on the surface. How much there was still to learn and do.

His interest in alchemy was still strong. Had actually increased after realizing how useful it was to know alchemy. How much the cultivators as a whole valued this profession. Pills could extend life, heal injuries, and even increase cultivation speed. The possibilities were endless.

He knew he wanted to definitely learn it. But he wasn’t so desperate as to blindly pursue it. He would also give an equal chance to other professions. Formations interested him. Tool refining seemed practical. Even cooking cultivation had its appeal after Senior Bo Yu’s enthusiastic description.

He also realized that books were heavily opinionated by their authors. It looked like each cultivation journey was different. He needed to take what he could from the knowledge of others and figure out his own thoughts. His own path.

At the word path, he smiled to himself.

Here was the word path coming up in his thoughts. Looks like he was on the right track to becoming a cultivator, he thought, amused.

The walk back to his cave took perhaps thirty minutes. Long enough to settle his meal and clear his mind. By the time he reached his residence, Yang felt pleasantly tired. Ready to attempt meditation before sleep.

He placed his token on the stone door. It faded to reveal the entrance. Yang stepped inside and the door solidified behind him, sealing him in privacy.

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