Chapter 80: The Loss of Spiritual Energy

As soon as the words faded, the crowd surged forward, and at last, I let out a breath and fainted.

I had thought I would die today, but never expected that this rat demon truly had committed countless evil deeds. Judging by the numbers alone, that old rat must have killed dozens; such a creature could not simply be left alone—it had to be driven out at the very least. Yet, that was no longer something I could concern myself with, and the rat demon was doomed to die today.

...

I had no idea how much time had passed before I groggily rose from the bed.

My head throbbed as I looked around; this must have been the room at Second Uncle’s house. There was not a single part of my body that didn’t ache—my whole self felt torn apart. Judging from the light, it was probably afternoon, but I was too weak to sit up and soon drifted back into sleep.

That sleep seemed to stretch on forever, but as I awoke, I discovered something troubling.

The white orb within me had inexplicably stopped spinning, now lying silently deep within my body. Not only that, but my spiritual energy seemed frozen, no longer flowing through me.

At this thought, I sat up abruptly, cold sweat breaking out all over.

Staring in amazement at my hands, I tried every effort, but not a trace of spiritual energy appeared.

Unwilling to accept this, I tried again, but nothing changed.

I closed my eyes, seeking to awaken the energy within, but no matter how I called to it, my spiritual energy remained unmoved.

After several attempts, pain returned—this time not on the surface, but deep within my meridians.

Helplessly, I clutched my chest and let out a howl toward the heavens.

That cry caught Second Uncle’s attention as he practiced sword outside.

"Awake, boy?"

I lacked the strength to reply, so I met his gaze.

Second Uncle, seasoned as he was, understood instantly. He gathered energy in one hand and gently pressed his palm against me.

Instantly, a small stream of spiritual energy entered my body, soothing my meridians.

I stared wide-eyed, gasping as if I’d just walked through the gates of death.

"Boy..." Second Uncle pulled up a stool beside me, seeming to have something to say.

Once I had recovered, I spoke quietly, "Please, go on."

Second Uncle nodded, his face weathered and lined, his brows deeply furrowed.

"You nearly lost your soul last time, but at least you survived."

"But... you may never be able to use spiritual energy again."

His words struck me with despair, like thunder on a clear day. How could a beating render me incapable of using spiritual energy?

Staring at my trembling hands, it felt as if the sky itself was collapsing.

Life had just begun to settle, only for fate to strike yet another cruel blow.

I fought back tears and whispered, "If I can’t use it, then so be it..."

Second Uncle cared deeply for me; his sadness nearly brought him to tears.

"But there’s still a chance," he said.

I nodded indifferently, urging him to continue.

"Your meridians were completely damaged, so you can’t use spiritual energy. Luckily, your dantian wasn’t too badly hurt, or not even the greatest healer could save you."

He paused, then added, "Meridians can sometimes repair themselves, though it’s rare..."

His meaning was clear: for now, I couldn’t use spiritual energy, but there was still a slim chance of recovery.

I sighed, feeling more hopeless than ever in my life.

Forget the games of the Ghost King—I no longer even possessed the basic means of self-defense.

"It’s fine, nothing to worry about," I said lightly, forcing a smile for Second Uncle.

He nodded and left, allowing me to bask in solitude.

I tried to access my ring, but found I couldn’t retrieve anything from it, nor could I even sense inside.

Glancing beside me, I spotted a small package.

Inside were my Snow Blade, my techniques for sword and finger, my Tan Record, and my phone.

Second Uncle had clearly prepared ahead, knowing I couldn’t use spiritual energy and bringing out what I’d need.

Touching the cold Snow Blade, a wave of desolation swept over me.

Once, this blade and I had galloped across battlefields; now, it lay dull and lifeless.

I checked my phone and counted the days.

I had slept for nearly half a month.

I opened our group chat; for some reason, the Ghost King hadn’t sent any messages since I fainted.

This wasn’t the first time—on several occasions, the Ghost King had vanished like this.

Aside from a few classmates demanding answers from the Ghost King, there was little else in the chat.

I climbed out of bed, but after a few steps, my legs gave out and I knelt on the floor.

I knew it was from lack of movement.

After adapting for a while, I rose again and walked into the courtyard.

It was noon; Second Uncle was cooking in the kitchen, and only Nangong Xi was training in the yard.

Getting closer, I saw that Nangong Xi was now at the second rank of Spirit Leaf, seemingly close to breaking through.

She heard me coming and slowly opened her eyes, her face lighting up with joy.

We sat together on the stone bench, and she told me about the day I returned.

After the rat demon was killed, Second Uncle had immediately taken me to a nearby hermit healer.

This healer wasn’t just anyone; he specialized in treating those in the cultivation world and never charged a fee.

Upon seeing me, he sensed that I was no ordinary child—surviving such grave wounds with a sliver of breath left.

He operated on me for several days before I finally clung to life.

Afterward, Second Uncle brought me home, where I had lain until now.

I nodded and joked, "From now on, you’ll have to protect me, haha."

But Nangong Xi didn’t laugh; instead, she looked at me with deep concern.

"Brother, you’ll get better soon," she said.

I pressed my lips together and nodded, not wanting to dwell on sentimentality, and returned to my room.

Inside, I tried several more times, but my spiritual energy remained dormant, leaving me in pain.

I thought, since I couldn’t cultivate spiritual energy, perhaps I could practice martial arts instead.

But my stamina was that of a normal person now; after a few rounds, I was breathless, as if on the verge of collapse.

Still, I knew that without spiritual energy, I’d have to hone my physical skills to protect myself.

I stopped only when I was utterly exhausted.

After lunch, I began practicing Eight Extremities Boxing day and night, believing that one day I would reclaim my peak.

Meanwhile, Second Uncle was teaching Nangong Xi the sword, and she was clearly enthusiastic, always training with great effort.

I seized every moment to practice Eight Extremities Boxing, for if past patterns held true, the Ghost King would soon return.