Mystic Eyes: My Eyes Steal the Laws of Cultivation

Chapter 435: Endless Needles Technique

’Fate?’

He almost laughed at the idea.

He had never truly believed in such things, in cosmic coincidences, in threads of destiny.

He believed in cause and effect. In actions and consequences. In choices.

But... the coincidence seemed far too absurd.

Even so... talent alone was not enough.

The Endless Needles Technique was not something that could be passed on to just anyone.

It was dangerous. Terribly dangerous.

A technique capable of saving lives, stopping hemorrhages, unblocking meridians, and expelling incurable poisons. And destroying them.

Capable of piercing spiritual cores, shattering dantians, severing a cultivator’s connection to Qi.

A technique that touched upon something strange. A peculiar Qi.

Something that even he did not completely understand.

For decades, he had believed it to be merely a special type of energy. A rare variation.

Something different from ordinary Qi, yet still within the boundaries of comprehension.

He had never imagined that its true nature was far deeper.

That it was connected to something greater.

His thoughts came to a halt. He looked at Kyrian once more.

’Perhaps. But first... I need to test him.’

"Do you want to learn?" he asked.

Kyrian answered immediately.

"Yes."

One of the man’s eyebrows rose slightly, not in surprise, but in interest.

Then... a small smile appeared on his lips.

He rested both hands upon his knees, assuming a more serious posture.

"The name of the technique is..."

"The Endless Needles Technique."

Kyrian’s heart quickened subtly. Not from greed. Not from covetousness. But from curiosity.

The man continued.

"It is not an assassination technique. Nor is it a medical technique."

"It is both. Or neither."

"The needles are merely tools."

"The true foundation of the technique is understanding the body."

"Meridians, their intersections, their blockages, their invisible connections."

"Hidden points, those that no map reveals, which only experience uncovers."

"Qi flows, not the superficial flow that everyone sees, but the deeper flow, the one that connects everything."

"Spiritual nodes, places where Qi gathers, where the body’s energy condenses."

"Invisible connections, between organs, between meridians, between the body and the soul."

He stared directly at Kyrian.

"One who masters this technique... can save someone standing at death’s door."

"Stop hemorrhages that no pill can halt."

"Unblock meridians that have been obstructed for decades."

"Expel poisons that have already corrupted the blood."

"And also..."

"Kill without leaving a trace."

"Pierce a spiritual core with an imperceptible movement."

"Shatter a dantian with a single touch."

"Erase a cultivator’s connection to Qi, forever."

Silence filled the room. The candles crackled softly. The wind outside blew more strongly.

Kyrian remained motionless. Processing everything.

’A technique that touches meridians. That manipulates the flow of Qi. That can heal and kill.’

’With nothing more than a single needle.’

The man asked,

"Are you still interested?"

Kyrian answered immediately.

"More than before."

The man let out a brief laugh. Then he stood up.

"Good."

Kyrian rose as well, his knees cracking softly after sitting for so long.

"What happens now?"

The man turned his back to him.

His steps carried him to a small shelf in the corner of the house, not the main shelf filled with books and jars, but a smaller, more discreet one, almost hidden within the shadows.

"Now..."

He opened one of the drawers, the wood creaking softly.

Retrieving a small box made of dark wood.

It was simple.

Without ornaments. Without runes. Without inscriptions. Just wood.

But Kyrian felt it. There was something inside that box.

The man turned around slowly.

There was a strange light in his eyes, not the gleam of greed, nor malice, but something deeper.

"You will undergo a test."

Kyrian looked at the box.

"What kind of test?"

The man placed the box upon the table.

His fingers, long, slender, precise, rested upon the lid.

"A test to determine whether you possess aptitude."

"Aptitude for what?"

"For the Endless Needles."

He raised his eyes.

"Not everyone can learn this technique. Not because of a lack of talent, but because of a lack of compatibility."

"The Qi required to wield it is... special."

Kyrian sat down once more. The man did the same.

The box remained between them, small, dark, silent.

"Before the test..." Kyrian said.

"There is something I need to know."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Speak."

"Why are you doing this? The fact that you showed me the technique on the way here made it clear that you wanted me to see it."

"Why do you want to teach me?"

The man remained silent. For a long moment.

Then, he sighed. Not a sigh of exhaustion, but one of acceptance.

"Because I don’t have much time."

Kyrian frowned.

"Time?"

"To live."

The man touched his own chest, where his heart beat.

"My body is dying. Slowly. But inevitably."

"Damage that cannot be healed. Weakened organs that cannot be restored."

"Perhaps two years. Perhaps less. Perhaps only a few months."

Kyrian listened in silence.

The man was dying. And even so... his calmness was absolute.

"I never expected to find a successor."

"This technique..."

He looked at the dark box.

"...is special. Not merely because it is powerful. Not merely because it can heal and kill. But because no one fully understands it."

"Not even me."

Kyrian listened attentively.

"I found it. I did not create it. During my travels through the Eastern Territory. In an ancient cave. Within a scroll that had nearly disintegrated."

"The needles... the cultivation method... the technique... the method of crafting the needles..."

"Everything came from that scroll."

"But the scroll was incomplete."

"Incomplete?"

"Yes."

"Pages were missing. Diagrams were missing. Explanations were missing."

"What remained was merely a fragment, a piece of something greater."

"But even that fragment..."

He touched the box once more.

"...was extraordinary. I spent years studying it. Testing it. Practicing it."

"Until I mastered what remained."

"But I knew, I had always known, that it was only a portion. That the true technique had been lost."

"And then?" Kyrian asked.

"And then my body began to fail. The technique... demands much from the cultivator."

"Not only Qi, but life itself."

"Each use... wears away the meridians a little more. Each treatment... shortens one’s lifespan a little further."

"For years, I ignored the signs. For years, I pushed beyond my limits. And now..."

He smiled, a bitter smile.

"...I have paid the price."

Silence filled the room. The man continued.

"I could allow the technique to die alongside me."

"Hide the needles somewhere, waiting for someone to discover them."

"Perhaps centuries from now."

"Perhaps never. But..." His eyes met Kyrian’s.

"...that would be a waste."

"This technique is far too valuable to vanish."

"And you are the first person in many years who has seen my needles."

"The first to understand what I was doing."

"I do not want to be your master. I do not want you to call me anything."

"I seek neither debts nor gratitude. I only wish for the technique to survive."

He touched the box once again.

"For someone to carry it into the future. For someone to complete it, if such a thing is possible."

"For someone to uncover what I could not."

Kyrian remained silent.

The man did not want a disciple. He did not want followers. He did not want obligations.

He merely wished to preserve it. To pass it on. To ensure that the technique would not die.

Kyrian processed those words.

The man was dying.

And he wished to pass the technique on to someone before departing. Not out of kindness. Not out of altruism.

But because the technique was too extraordinary to perish with him. Because allowing it to disappear would be a waste.

The man observed his reaction.

"So..."

He placed his hand upon the dark box.

"The test."

Kyrian nodded.