Chapter 298: Proving the Dao through Divine-Sense

What kind of foundation should one build?

Mo Hua had never thought about such a question before, so he asked: “Isn’t Foundation Establishment just… Foundation Establishment? How can there be differences?”

Mister Zhuang replied: “Just as cultivators differ from one another, the foundations they establish differ as well.”

He continued: “A cultivator’s foundation depends on three pillars—Divine-Sense, spiritual power, and the physical body.

Each cultivator’s Sea of Consciousness, Qi Sea, and physique are different by birth; coupled with the variety of cultivation techniques and Daoist arts, the path they cultivate inevitably diverges.”

Mo Hua frowned.

He had thought that merely being able to reach Foundation Establishment was already good enough—yet now it turned out there was so much to consider. One even had to choose what kind of Dao to cultivate?

He hadn’t prepared for any of that, and for a moment he was completely lost.

“Can’t I just… take it one step at a time?” he asked softly.

Mister Zhuang shook his head.

“Cultivation is not a matter of improvisation. Refining Qi builds the foundation; Foundation Establishment paves the road. Each step must be considered carefully. The Dao you walk should be chosen early on—trying to change direction later is extremely difficult.”

Mo Hua hesitated, then asked weakly: “Then, Mister Zhuang… what do you think I’m suited to cultivate?”

Mister Zhuang glanced at him and answered bluntly: “Your physique is weak, and your spiritual root… well, not that great either.”

Mo Hua had long been aware of this, but hearing it said aloud still made him uncomfortable. He still asked: “Is it really that bad?”

He thought he wasn’t that hopeless—at least his spiritual root was somewhere around lower-mid grade.

Seeing Mo Hua’s wide, glistening eyes, Mister Zhuang softened his tone.

“Well, not exactly bad… let’s just say you have great potential.”

Mo Hua froze, his expression complicated.

That phrasing was… very tactful indeed.

“Great potential” basically meant “currently useless.”

“Then… in the future, could I perhaps focus on body refinement or spiritual power instead?” he asked, clinging to a sliver of hope.

Mister Zhuang rubbed his chin. “That depends on who you’re comparing yourself to.”

“How so?”

“You have a lower mid-grade spiritual root,” said Mister Zhuang. “That might seem decent compared to the unaffiliated cultivators in Tōngxiān City—but compared to family disciples, sect scions, or the younger generation of third- or fourth-tier powers, your talent would be considered… unremarkable.”

Mo Hua nodded. That was true enough.

The family and sect disciples generally had far superior roots.

“Do you know about the inheritance of spiritual roots?” Mister Zhuang asked.

“Yes,” Mo Hua nodded.

He’d heard from An Xiaofu that the spiritual roots of parents influenced their child’s root and rank—this was the principle of spiritual root inheritance.

Mister Zhuang said: “Over twenty thousand years ago, when the Dao Court was first founded, high-grade spiritual roots were exceedingly rare. Even lower-tier high-grade roots were precious and carefully nurtured.

“But once certain clans discovered that spiritual roots could be inherited—and that inheritance could even be controlled—they began arranging marriages accordingly.

“Since then, all major clans and sects have followed this principle. Thus, in today’s world, high-grade roots are everywhere; even lower-tier high-grade roots are no longer rare.”

He paused, looking silently at Mo Hua.

If even lower high-grade roots weren’t special anymore… then what did that make Mo Hua’s lower mid-grade root?

Three entire thresholds separated him from a proper high-grade root.

Mister Zhuang tactfully left that part unsaid.

But Mo Hua understood anyway and lowered his head with a long sigh.

Mister Zhuang continued,

“And that’s only compared to average disciples. If you compare yourself to true prodigies, like Zi Sheng or Zi Xi, the gap between you and them is as vast as heaven and earth.”

“Is it really that wide?” Mo Hua whispered.

Mister Zhuang hesitated, then decided to be honest.

“It’s actually even wider than I’m saying.”

Mo Hua was stunned.

He hadn’t realized that Zi Sheng and Zi Xi’s talent was that exceptional… or that his own was that mediocre.

He recalled Mister Zhuang’s earlier words about “Heavenly Dao” and “Divine-Sense,” and asked,

“Then… should I major in Divine-Sense cultivation?”

Mister Zhuang nodded.

“Indeed. Since your physique and spiritual root can’t compete, don’t compete. Focus on what sets you apart—your Divine-Sense.”

“Your body and root are weaker than you think, but your Divine-Sense is stronger than you realize,” he added silently to himself, perhaps even stronger than I can imagine.

Unaware of the old man’s private thoughts, Mo Hua still fretted about his deficiencies.

“Then… can my body or root be improved?”

Mister Zhuang gently shook his head.

“Your frailty is congenital. It can be improved somewhat, but not fundamentally changed. You may strengthen your body a little, but you’ll never match those born with body-refining physiques.

“As for the spiritual root—it’s fixed from birth. What you’re born with, you keep for life. There’s no real way to alter it.”

“So… I should focus on my strengths and avoid my weaknesses?” Mo Hua asked.

Mister Zhuang nodded.

“Divine-Sense, spiritual power, and the body are the three foundations of cultivation—none can be wholly neglected. But Heaven is exacting, and mortals are limited; you can’t master everything. The Dao doesn’t demand that you surpass others in every way—if you can perfect just one aspect, that alone can lead you to greatness.”

Mo Hua nodded, his mind clearing as the idea took root. Then curiosity stirred again.

“Are there any cultivators who do excel in all three?”

Mister Zhuang fell silent for a while before answering,

“There are—but such heaven-defying geniuses are one in a million, seen perhaps once in a thousand years.”

Mo Hua felt a little envious, then shook it off.

Cultivating all three would require immense heritage, abundant spirit stones, and rare heavenly treasures.

Even if he had such talent, without resources or backing, it would all go to waste.

Greed was folly—cultivating Divine-Sense alone was fine.

Still, could mastering Divine-Sense alone truly lead him to the Dao? He’d never heard of anyone doing so.

He thought for a bit, then asked,

“Mister Zhuang, are there other cultivators who mainly cultivate Divine-Sense?”

“Very few.”

“How few?”

“Ordinary cultivators never choose that path,” Mister Zhuang said.

Mo Hua blinked, slightly deflated. So… he was an abnormal cultivator?

Mister Zhuang chuckled.

“The strength of body and spirit power is visible; Divine-Sense is elusive, intangible. Unless you’re a formation master—who must cultivate strong Divine-Sense for array work—few dedicate themselves to it.”

“I see…” Mo Hua sighed softly.

Mister Zhuang’s gaze deepened.

“But you’re different. Your body is frail, your spiritual root average, yet your Divine-Sense is… overwhelmingly powerful.

“So—cultivate it to the extreme. Hone it until it stands far above all others, until no one dares to match you.”

His voice grew solemn, resonant.

“If you can make your Divine-Sense strong enough, then one day, you will prove the Dao through Divine-Sense, and with that supreme consciousness, glimpse the very truth of the Great Dao itself.”

(End of Chapter)