Chapter 71: Meditation on White Bone
No matter how turbulent the undercurrents beneath the sea became, at least for now, they would not affect Zhou Ming’s small boat floating on the surface.
However, Zhou Ming also knew that once those undercurrents turned into towering waves, even if they were not aimed at him, his tiny vessel would still be swallowed beneath the spray.
“When the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer as well.”
Such was the fate of small people. Even if they wished for a peaceful life, it still depended on the whims of others.
Therefore, after returning from Yuelai Hotel, Zhou Ming devoted all his energy to the White Bone Contemplation Meditation Method.
Since he could not stop this coming storm, then he would make himself into a colossal warship.
The storm would then become nothing more than a sprinkling gun on the ship’s deck—washing away the dust, turning into a scene for Zhou Ming’s eyes to behold.
The day after returning from Yuelai Hotel, Zhou Ming officially began meditating on the White Bone Contemplation.
The Azure Potion possessed the purest sky-blue hue, so clear and flawless that it was mesmerizing.
But the price behind such purity was steep—two bottles of Azure Potion had cost Zhou Ming more than half a million Alliance Coins.
Still, it was a necessary resource, for the most difficult stage of entering the White Bone Contemplation was visualizing oneself within the Spiritual Sea, and forming the profound Heart Seal of White Bone Contemplation.
Yes—this Heart Seal was not formed by the physical body, but by the self-awareness within the Spiritual Sea, using Spiritual Power to shape the seal.
A slight error would not only prevent one from entering a meditative state, but could also cause harm to one’s own spirit.
Before beginning the meditation, Zhou Ming made a series of careful preparations.
He locked the door, shut the windows, drew the curtains tightly, lit the Focus Incense, and had Inkband and Vermilion Jade stand guard nearby.
After bathing and changing clothes, he adjusted his breathing and repeatedly reviewed the steps of the White Bone Contemplation Meditation Method in his mind.
When he confirmed everything was ready, Zhou Ming took a deep breath and drank the Azure Potion in his hand.
He gently closed his eyes, relaxed his body, cleared away all distractions, and let his consciousness sink entirely into the Spiritual Sea.
The Spiritual Sea and the Beast Space were, in essence, the same place—but the Spiritual Sea was not identical to the Beast Space.
Through special materials and rituals, the Beast Space was endowed with the ability to seal one’s own beasts. To the Spiritual Sea, that was but one of its many inherent functions.
For a Beast Tamer, the Spiritual Sea was more like a vast, void-like universe of consciousness—one that the tamer must continuously explore and develop.
Within Zhou Ming’s Spiritual Sea, the Ironthread Snake swarm had already been released, scattered across every corner of his dwelling.
He did this in case any disturbance during meditation caused fluctuations in the Spiritual Sea, affecting the snakes.
After all, this batch of snakes represented the highest quality of Ironthread Snakes Zhou Ming currently possessed.
Even without the snakes, his Spiritual Sea remained dazzling—its nebula-like formations mesmerizing to behold.
Half of the nebula was composed of unused Spiritual Seeds, while the other half consisted of the projections of his Ironthread Snakes.
From the projections of these beasts extended strands of silvery threads, connecting through the void to the beasts outside his body.
The golden Spiritual Seeds and the silver Spiritual Threads spiraled together like a Taiji pattern within Zhou Ming’s Spiritual Sea.
Immersed in this ocean of consciousness, Zhou Ming, under the guidance of the White Bone Contemplation, resembled a master sketch artist, meticulously outlining his own form line by line.
As the strokes multiplied, Zhou Ming’s facial features and body became increasingly lifelike.
Finally, streaks of silver light flowed intermittently into the drawn body, filling in imperceptible details.
Such delicate manipulation of Spiritual Power was only possible with the aid of the Azure Potion—otherwise, even reaching this stage would have taken Zhou Ming countless attempts.
It was money well spent.
When the final stroke was drawn, a figure identical to Zhou Ming’s physical self appeared within the Spiritual Sea.
Seated cross-legged upon the nebula, Zhou Ming appeared tranquil.
Yet, upon closer look, he resembled a walking corpse—merely an empty shell, far from the true state of meditation.
“White Bone Contemplation Heart Seal.”
Within the Spiritual Sea, Zhou Ming’s voice echoed.
It was as though heaven and earth had been split open, chaos torn apart—bringing a sliver of life to the dead stillness of the Spiritual Sea.
The Zhou Ming formed from Spiritual Power joined his hands, fingers unfolding like blooming lotus petals, forming an intricate hand seal.
At last, his thumbs and index fingers met, creating an eye-like pattern within the hollow of his palms.
The White Bone Contemplation focused not only on self-awareness—it had to reflect into the flesh as well.
The practitioner’s five organs and six viscera, limbs and bones, the six vital meridians—all had to be mirrored within the drawn spiritual body.
The body was the vessel of the spirit; the spirit was the extension of the body.
The sages of Blue Star had not conjured such studies from nothing—their every step had been firmly grounded in reality.
Excessive longing leads to spirit damage and bodily harm; overnight, one’s hair turns white.
Such truths revealed that body and spirit were not separate, but interdependent.
Otherwise, mere visualization of a decaying body could never allow one to experience the realm where flesh fades and bones radiate brilliance.
When the Heart Seal of White Bone Contemplation was successfully formed, Zhou Ming felt as though his consciousness had truly stepped into his Spiritual Sea.
Yet he did not dwell on that thought. He quickly steadied his mind and continued the meditation, for succeeding once did not guarantee success the next time.
In the Spiritual Sea, there was no concept of time.
Seated cross-legged upon the nebula, Zhou Ming had no idea how long had passed.
His once-strong body began to wither, his healthy skin shriveled, and his once-handsome face grew spotted with the stains of age.
That previously charming aura had been replaced by the stillness of decline.
Vitality seemed to drain away from him—death slowly approached.
He did not know how long it lasted.
Zhou Ming’s body began to rot.
Yellow pus oozed from decaying flesh; flies and maggots swarmed across his body. Even his clothes had fused with the festering remains.
Then, from the darkness around him, emerged cold, bloodthirsty black serpents devoid of emotion.
They devoured the rotten flesh that fell from Zhou Ming’s body, endlessly feeding.
As more serpents appeared, they covered his entire body like ravenous ghosts, gnawing at every last shred of flesh.
When the flesh was gone, a skeleton appeared atop the nebula.
Yet compared to the white-haired old man depicted in the White Bone Contemplation Scroll, Zhou Ming’s bones were riddled with countless fine holes, as if they could crumble at any moment.
The black serpents, finding no more flesh to consume, slithered within the gaps of his bones for a while before slowly vanishing.
Zhou Ming’s skeleton began to harden—though not drastically, it was clearly stronger than before, no longer so fragile and decayed.
Perhaps those serpents had devoured his delusions, desires, and obsessions—refining them into nourishment.
Or perhaps the reflection into the flesh strengthened the spirit with physical resilience.
Maybe both were true.
This state did not last long.
When Zhou Ming opened his eyes in the external world, the strange phenomena of the Spiritual Sea vanished instantly.
Ending his meditation, Zhou Ming did not feel any spiritual transformation—instead, he quickly reached for a low-grade Nutrient Potion and drank it down.
“Cough.”
“I didn’t expect the White Bone Contemplation to consume so much of the physical body. Luckily, I trained in martial arts beforehand—otherwise, even if I had succeeded in meditation, my body would’ve needed a long recovery.”
Looking at the bloodstain on his right hand wiped from the corner of his mouth, Zhou Ming truly felt grateful for the year and a half he had spent building his foundation.