Two days later, Jian Long finally succeeded in refining the Metal Spear Gu.
At the moment the final trace of resistance disappeared, he felt a subtle change within the Gu worm. The connection between them became smooth and natural, as if the Gu had become an extension of his own body.
With a thought, the Metal Spear Gu moved.
With another thought, it stopped.
The control felt strangely familiar, almost like moving one of his own limbs.
Jian Long did not waste any time.
He immediately began practicing with it.
The spear of condensed metal shot forward again and again under his control, piercing into the stone walls of the cavern with sharp metallic sounds.
Fortunately, Jian Long had once been a hunter. Years spent in the mountains had sharpened his instincts and senses. In addition, he possessed a certain natural talent.
Because of this, it did not take long before he grew accustomed to controlling the Metal Spear Gu. His accuracy improved rapidly.
Before long, the spear could strike exactly where he intended.
Only after becoming somewhat satisfied with his control did Jian Long shift his focus to something more important.
His Aperture.
The refinement of a Gu worm and the refinement of an Aperture were two entirely different matters.
When refining a Gu worm, a Gu Master only needed to use a small portion of primeval essence from the primeval sea each time. As long as there was a continuous flow of essence, the refinement would eventually succeed.
Whether one's aptitude was A-grade or D-grade, the process itself was essentially the same.
The only difference was time.
Those with poor aptitude simply needed much longer.
But refining the Aperture was completely different.
Instead of drawing a small stream of essence, the Aperture required the entire strength of the primeval sea.
To understand this difference, imagine two people.
One possesses only a small lake.
The other possesses a vast sea.
If they were refining a Gu worm, the process would be like digging a narrow canal to draw water outward.
Regardless of whether the source was a lake or an ocean, the canal would only allow a limited stream of water to pass through. The flow itself would not differ greatly.
The only difference was that the lake would run dry sooner, while the sea could continue supplying water for far longer.
But refining an Aperture was nothing like digging a canal.
It was more like unleashing the waves themselves.
The waves of a lake were small and weak, even if the lake never completely dried up.
But the waves of a sea were powerful and immense.
They could crash against the shore and shatter rock itself.
This difference was the fundamental reason why Gu Masters with B, C, or D-grade aptitude would eventually encounter an insurmountable limit in their cultivation.
Their primeval seas simply lacked the force needed to push their Apertures beyond a certain stage.
But those with A-grade aptitude were different.
Their seas were vast.
Their waves were powerful.
For them—
their potential had no clear limit.
Jian Long slowly closed his eyes.
Inside his body, the jade-green primeval sea stirred quietly within his Aperture.
A faint ripple appeared on its surface.
Then another.
And another.
He began his first attempt at refining his Aperture.
With a thought from Jian Long, the primeval sea that had been calm like a mirror suddenly changed.
Ripples rose across its surface.
Then the ripples grew into waves.
Soon, the once-tranquil sea transformed into a raging tide, wave after wave crashing toward the walls of the Aperture.
But Jian Long quickly realized that this process was far from simple.
He could clearly sense the walls of the Aperture. They were thin… somewhat fragile. If the waves surged too violently or unevenly, the walls could easily be damaged.
In that instant, he faced a difficult task.
He had to guide the waves of his primeval sea so that they pressed against the Aperture walls evenly from every direction.
The waves had to be strong.
Yet at the same time, they needed precision.
They had to press with force—
but without brutality.
It was like attempting to control a storm.
Soon Jian Long's forehead was covered with sweat.
Every few minutes he would abruptly stop the refinement process. Sometimes it was because he felt the waves had become too violent, and sometimes it was merely because he suspected they had.
Even when he was uncertain, he preferred to stop.
The situation was like asking an inexperienced sculptor to carve an extremely precious gemstone for the first time.
The fear of damaging it made every strike hesitant.
Thus the process became slow… complicated… and filled with caution.
Days passed.
The first signs of autumn arrived in the mountains. The air grew colder, and the wind that slipped into the cave carried a faint chill.
As for Jian Long, his life followed a fixed routine.
He woke up.
Refined his Aperture.
Went out into the wilderness to hunt for food for himself and his Gu worm.
Returned to the cave.
Continued refining.
Then slept.
Day after day… the cycle repeated.
Over time, his skill in refinement improved greatly. He no longer needed the intense concentration he once required. The process became smoother, gradually turning into something like a meditative practice.
A quiet moment in which he could think about his life… and his current situation.
Several days had passed since he became a Gu Master.
Several days since he discovered the mountain of primeval stones.
During that time, the initial euphoria had slowly faded.
The fog of excitement that once clouded his judgment had finally lifted.
And when Jian Long examined his situation calmly, he discovered an uncomfortable truth.
In some ways, this enormous mountain of primeval stones was almost worthless.
What use was wealth if it could not be spent?
There was no one on this mountain.
No nearby village.
No market.
When he considered carrying the primeval stones with him, the situation became even more depressing.
Primeval stones were roughly the size of goose eggs. They were not something easily transported.
Even if he found a large bag and filled it completely, he would not be able to carry more than around a hundred stones.
That was without considering the weight of the bag itself.
And displaying such obvious wealth would inevitably attract the greed of others.
At that point, this blessing could easily turn into a disaster.
For this reason, Gu Masters usually relied on special storage-type Gu worms to carry goods.
But Jian Long… had none.
On the other hand, there was an even greater problem.
He was trapped in this mountain.
The Southern Border mountains were filled with savage beasts and dangerous Gu worms.
Among the people of Southern Border, there was a well-known saying:
Never enter the wilderness alone… until you reach Rank Three.
Some might say he could simply remain here until he reached Rank Three.
But… what would be the point?
Jian Long possessed only a single Rank One Gu worm.
Even if his cultivation rose to Rank Two or Rank Three…
his combat strength would still remain at the level of a Rank One Gu Master.
Without more Gu worms, raising his cultivation alone would change very little.
After thinking about all this, Jian Long slowly sighed.
In this world…
wealth alone meant nothing.
Cultivation alone was not enough.
And living alone in the wilderness…
was not a path toward strength.
It was merely a slow path toward death.