Two months passed. Meng Hao sat cross-legged in the Immortal’s Cave in the deep mountains. Suddenly, a thunderous noise rang out, sending the nearby animals scattering. The large stone slab he had sliced out to seal the cave suddenly shattered into pieces.
Stone fragments showered out in all directions as Meng Hao emerged from the Immortal’s Cave. His hair hung down like a cloak around his scholar’s robe. His eyes glittered like lightning, and a shocking aura emanated from him, as well as a pleasant, fragrant aroma.
A look of joy filled his face. After having been in secluded meditation for such a long time, he let out a laugh which echoed out and sent the wild beasts running.
“The eighth level of Qi Condensation!” he said, his fists clenched. His eyes shone, which would have been even more obvious were it nighttime.
The two months of meditation had begun with a sense of nervousness and imminent danger. Those feeling disappeared slowly as he practiced Cultivation. He used over ten thousand Spirit Stones to duplicate medicinal pills, which he used in his meditation.
He did not want to be in a position of danger ever again. He needed to become strong, so that he could surpass the people who threatened him.
“I need to become powerful. There is no other reason. I must become powerful!”
He stood outside of the Immortal’s cave, breathing the fresh mountain air, his eyes filled with resolve.
He was a simple scholar, a student of Confucianism. But the past three years had caused him to become a bit more inwardly focused. After everything that he had experienced, his personality was very different than it had been. His stubbornness was now much more obvious.
He had been stubborn in his refusal to give up even after failing in the Imperial examinations. He had been stubborn in his struggles in the Reliance Sect. He had been stubborn when he stood up to Wang Tengfei. And now he was stubborn in his hopes for the future.
Becoming powerful is much the same as becoming rich. It is a dream that does not require a reason. If a reason is required, perhaps it is fear of being poor or weak. That is what Meng Hao believed.