The Role of the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path and My Name Is Yang Qi

With the teacher keeping watch, the night passed without incident. As soon as dawn broke, the ever-scheming teacher wasted no time unleashing his mischief on his two female disciples—by tickling Fiona Fang's nose with a piece of foxtail grass. The result? Absolutely flawless. The girl, who loved to sleep in, instantly woke up with three massive sneezes in a row, tears almost streaming down her face.

Moral of the story: Whatever you do, don't pick a scheming, sadistic S-type as your master.

The next few days were spent trekking through the jungle. The three of them had no particular destination—just going wherever the wind took them. Hunting, foraging, sleeping in tree hollows or caves, bathing and doing laundry in rivers and ponds—their lives became pure wilderness survival.

Normally, this kind of life would be tough—without the right tools, most people wouldn't last a day, let alone set out with nothing but the clothes on their backs. But during this time, the two girls got a taste of their master's insane survival skills. Making a fire? He could spark one up just by rubbing a couple of sticks together. Finding water? He'd just listen for a minute and know exactly where the source was. Foraging? One sniff and he'd tell you what was edible and what was poison, and even the weirdest-looking plants—he'd just take a bite and instantly know if it was toxic.

With skills like that, there's hardly an environment in the world that could trap him. The Smoke Pot troupe called him the "Immortal Fool"—and that 'immortal' part wasn't just for show.

Of course, as a scheming trickster to the core, Mr. Yang took his "evil genius" spirit to the next level. He discovered a fruit that looked like a tomato—nutritious, sweet, and tasty at first bite. But the aftertaste? Pure fire. It'd have you rolling on the ground with a burning face. For the two girls, this was a disaster: anyone who slacked off during training got one as punishment.

Because of its unique properties, they named it the "Red Sun Tomato"—since anyone who ate it would inevitably yell, "Isn't this just a red... SUN!!!"

When it came to cultivation, Mr. Yang didn't hold back. He taught them boxing, Titan Spirit Method, and Prajna Method, bit by bit. But the girls started to show their differences—small at first, but noticeable. Rachel Luo could barely grasp and start practicing the first level of the Titan Spirit Method. Fiona Fang, despite being more talented, showed no signs of mastering it. So Mr. Yang prepared some refined meat to help Rachel out, but for Fiona, he was at a loss.

As for the Prajna Method, both girls made a bit of progress, but were still far from reaching the first level. If Mr. Yang's own progress had been like taking a bullet train, the girls were pedaling along on bicycles—especially Fiona Fang, who kept hitting red lights, stopping and starting, struggling the whole way.

On top of that, Mr. Yang also taught them the Bright Jade Method. Princess Embroidered Jade had made it clear in her secret letter that the Bright Moon Divine Skill and the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path were strictly forbidden from being passed on. But the Bright Jade Method wasn't on the list, so he could teach it to his disciples. Mr. Yang didn't make a big deal of it—once he became a Protector, his two disciples would naturally be part of the Protector lineage. The Bright Jade Method wasn't some secret forbidden art; maybe it was a treasure for ordinary martial artists, but for innate masters like Mr. Yang, it was just whatever.

Although my internal energy is still at the beginner stage, I, Yang, have unconsciously started viewing things from an innate-level perspective.

In terms of internal energy, the progress of my two disciples is the exact opposite of their Dragon Elephant Art results. Rachel Luo just can't get the hang of it—she still can't sense qi at all. But Fiona Fang found her qi sense right away and has already entered the nurturing and cultivation stage. If we go by the standards in the manuals, Fiona is pretty much a prodigy.

As their master, my own progress is even greater—and honestly, it's ridiculously fast. My Mingyu Art is growing like a seedling in rich soil: wild, unstoppable. What drives all this, besides mental strength, is mostly the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path.

I've realized it: the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path is absolutely a peerless manual, at least for me, it's invaluable.

My Prajna Art is already at the seventh level, which in Wheel Meridian Art terms is the Crown Wheel—the seventh and final wheel. The Crown Wheel sits atop the Six Yang's head, coinciding with the Baihui acupoint. It's the ultimate realm of Wheel Meridian Art. Once you finish cultivating this wheel, yoga calls it 'Great Bliss.' From then on, your spirit is complete and endlessly renewed. In some exaggerated legends, those who open the Crown Wheel even gain superpowers.

For example, take Dhalsim from Street Fighter—the stretchy guy from India. It's said he opened the Crown Wheel and nurtured his inner fire, which is why he can spit flames like a champ.

Digging deep into yourself, merging with your true spirit—Wheel Meridian Art is all about unlocking every bit of your inner power.

But cultivating the Crown Wheel isn't easy. Its image is that of a thousand-petaled lotus. Only when all thousand petals are nourished and the lotus blooms is the Crown Wheel considered open. In deep self-reflection, I found my own Crown Wheel was stuck. Even though I'd opened three hundred petals, I just couldn't move forward no matter what I tried.

But ever since I got the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path, the obstacles have started breaking down bit by bit, and new petals are opening up again.

The Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path really is magical—a truly incredible technique. Its wonders even surpass Wheel Meridian Art, and it's almost on par with Prajna Art.

Simply put, it's a completely different way of spiritual cultivation compared to Prajna Art. Prajna Art has clear levels, each with its own powers and effects, and whoever practices it gets pretty much the same results. But the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path is different—it doesn't have levels. It's like a winding hidden path, and the results are unique to each person.

If Prajna Art is like a monk meditating in a stone cave or suddenly achieving enlightenment under twin trees, then the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path is like a Daoist wandering mountains and rivers, living freely in the mortal world. The monk is compassionate and solemn, viewing the world with a detached eye. The Daoist is casual and carefree, using an otherworldly heart to understand all living things. Transcendent, but still part of the world—feeling all the ugliness, beauty, ordinariness, and transcendence, and turning it all into personal insight.

This chapter isn't over yet ^.^, please click next page to continue reading!

The Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path makes your mind sharper, and everyone who walks this path gets a different result—always the one that's right for them. This technique has a carefree, unruly vibe, like a wandering immortal refining their soul however they please. It might not be the strongest for boosting raw mental power, but it can seriously level up your realm and spiritual insight.

You could say the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path is a road that leads both deep into your own heart and out to the vast Dao. Whoever created this technique was definitely a transcendent genius, a true sage among sages.

The only flaw with the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path is that its total mental power isn't as high as Prajna Art. So when you combine Prajna Art with the Emotion Path, it's like pairing Nine Yang Divine Art with the Heaven and Earth Shift—basically, you get mind-blowing results.

At this stage, it's perfect for me to use to dispel my inner demons.

And it's thanks to the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path that I've started to understand my own problem: Could it be that my amnesia is related to my previous rapid progress? Fragments of memory flash through my mind. I remember that in my last world, my Prajna Art improved by leaps and bounds. I jumped two levels in one go, which now seems pretty suspicious.

"I think I get it now." A flash of insight crosses my mind, comparing itself to the shattered memories. If those messy memories are like scattered puzzle pieces, then with the help of the Supreme Spiritual Emotion Path, I've started putting together some related pieces into a relatively complete section.

"So that's how it is!" I slap my palm, feeling much more lively. "In my previous world, I was basically sleepwalking, my mind completely frozen. Back then, I practiced Prajna Art and Wheel Meridian Art day and night, gaining lots of mental power and raising the level of my Prajna Art. Because my sea of consciousness was totally frozen, all the new power just stuck to the outer layer, not affecting the old stuff at all. But later..."

Later, when his intelligence awakened and the ice lake shattered, a flood of spiritual power mixed in. He already had an Inner Demon, so the sudden surge of spiritual power triggered an outbreak. And of all things, he was stuck at the 'Dreamsea Remnants' stage—a realm most closely tied to memory, and absolutely critical.

Maybe it was exactly because of the sudden spike in spiritual power, plus the Inner Demon, and just happening to be at the Dreamsea Remnants stage, that things turned out the way they did.

Mr. Yang couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh: "Spiritual power makes me, spiritual power breaks me—never thought the root of my troubles was cultivating Prajna Skill too fast."

A person’s name is the core of their self-awareness. In this mess, he knew there was no point straining to remember his own name. Unless he sorted out all his memories, he wouldn’t recall it. Even if he heard the right word, it’d feel like someone else’s name—no emotional connection, no help for his scrambled mind.

For now, the plan was simple: organize his memories and defeat the Inner Demon—two birds, one stone, and maybe he’d get back on track. The pity was, he couldn’t even remember where his Inner Demon came from.

"Wait, I can just ask my other self for help!" Mr. Yang suddenly had a bright idea. Hey, he’s not your average Joe—why walk the beaten path? That other version of him had no memory loss, wasn’t stuck in Dreamsea Remnants, and, weirdly enough, had no Inner Demon!

If he could just project his consciousness over and get that side to help organize the memories, wouldn’t it all be solved?

That night, while resting, he picked a super out-of-the-way spot and set up a ton of safety measures. After giving his two disciples a heads-up, Mr. Yang sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and fired up the Heart Severing and Thought Cutting Technique.

Rachel Luo and Fiona Fang had no clue what was going on, but they couldn’t help getting nervous. The whole night, they took turns keeping watch. After that nerve-wracking night, they realized the only reason they ever slept soundly was because they had a protector they could totally trust. Without Mr. Yang there, it was all nerves and jitters.

When the sun rose and the first ray of light hit Mr. Yang’s face, he opened his eyes.

His gaze was clear, but full of frustration. He sighed softly, "Nope, failed again..." With his mind a chaotic whirlpool of spiritual power, he couldn’t enter the Heart Severing and Thought Cutting state at all. No matter how he tried, he just couldn’t shift his consciousness over.

"Looks like some things you just gotta fix yourself."

Same person, but why does this side have an Inner Demon and the other doesn’t? Makes you jealous, honestly.

"But hey, it’s not a total loss." Mr. Yang stood up, stretched lazily, and turned to his two disciples: "Oh right, I came up with a name for myself—a temporary codename, let’s say."

"Huh?!" The girls lit up, their exhaustion forgotten in a flash. "What is it?"

You’ve gotta have a name, right? Even if he couldn’t remember this version’s name, he did remember the other one’s. Since they’re both him, borrowing it for now wouldn’t hurt.

"For now, just call me 'Yang Qi.'" The name gave him a strange thrill, and then he remembered: that line about peach blossoms was actually talking about the other him. He couldn’t help but give an embarrassed smile. "Still, it beats being called Lady Spring Thirty."

"Yang Qi? Not bad, not bad! 'Victory through surprise,' 'peaks of wonder'—all good vibes!" Rachel Luo chimed in first.

"Hmm... now that I think about it, you’ve always been kinda weird, like you don’t fit in with this world. Yang Qi suits you." Fiona Fang agreed.

'Victory through surprise'? 'Weird and wonderful'? That’s... not quite the 'Qi' I meant—it’s the 'Qi' from 'brocade,' not 'wonder.' But whatever, Yang Qi sounds like a girl’s name anyway. Let them misunderstand—Yang Qi, this name... feels oddly familiar, like it just fits.

"Alright, I’ll be the weird, surprising guy from now on!" Yang Qi’s mood suddenly soared, a happiness bubbling up from deep inside—hard to describe, really. "Your master’s name is Yang Qi!"