Vessel of Worlds

"That's right. For eighteen years I've circled Island Five and the surrounding waters, asking everywhere for news of Big Brother Xi, Second Brother Di, Third Brother Xun—and you, Fifth Brother. I even chased every scrap of word about those Demon Gate cultivators. But there was never any certain answer." The girl spoke slowly.

"All I ever learned was from the text shop's keeper—that you had appeared on Island Five more than a decade ago and bought some beast records. I never imagined we'd meet again after all these years. But Big Brother Xi and the others—where are they now?"

"No news is good news," Andy said consolingly. "And those Demon Gate cultivators never appeared either? Then in all likelihood they perished. And if so, Big Brother Xi and the others may very well still be alive."

"Yes—that's exactly what I've told myself." A faint smile touched the girl's face, as though someone had finally understood her reasoning.

"But then why hasn't Big Brother Xi come looking for us?" she said softly—whether asking Andy or only herself, it was hard to tell.

"Twenty years ago, Big Brother Xi was preparing his attempt at Core Formation," Andy said. "Most likely he's in seclusion somewhere right now, cultivating bitterly. I've heard the attempt often demands a very long seclusion."

The girl smiled bitterly. "Thank you for the comfort, Fifth Brother. It's possible, yes—but you know Big Brother Xi's ways. Before any seclusion, he would almost certainly have left word for us through some channel—not vanished without a whisper like this. And the Demon Gate cultivator he faced was no ordinary opponent. That little blood-red sword he unleashed—it left me with a feeling of something deep and unfathomable. I truly fear for Big Brother Xi's safety."

By the end, the girl could no longer master herself, and began quietly sobbing.

For a cultivator—above all a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator—this was an extraordinary sight.

Cultivators were thin of feeling as a rule; Daoist cultivators especially prized the suppression of the seven emotions and six desires—no grief, no joy, no sorrow, no resentment—a heart still as an ancient well.

So outside of life-and-death extremity, one rarely saw a cultivator show raw emotion at all, and the girl's soft weeping drew the attention of more than a few passersby.

Andy understood: the bitterness pressed down in her heart for over a decade had finally found an outlet, and like the Yangtze bursting its dikes, it would not easily be stemmed.

"Fairy Hongchen—let's go somewhere else. I have something to show you. When you see it, you'll understand," Andy transmitted to her.

The girl started, her tears stopping. "What thing?" she transmitted back.

Andy sent a single sentence in reply—and an expression of astonished joy broke across her face. "Do you mean it?!"

Andy nodded and flew toward a remote corner of the island, the girl close behind.

Moments later, the two came to rest in a deserted, empty valley.

Her voice trembled. "Fifth Brother—you truly have proof that Demon Gate cultivator perished? You're not deceiving me just to ease my heart?"

Andy drew out a torn, ruined blood-colored cape and tossed it to her. "See for yourself, Fairy Hongchen."

The thing genuinely was a relic of the Demon Gate young master, damaged by the puppets in the battle. Andy had judged the half-ruined cape's crafting method unusual enough to be worth studying, and had kept it in his pouch.

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"It's a demonic object, no question—by its aura, its owner belonged to the same sect as those Demon Gate cultivators. But Fifth Brother, how can you be sure this belonged to the very man who fought Big Brother Xi?" the girl asked, puzzled.

"That man styled himself 'Young Master'—and this corner of the cape says the rest." Andy pointed.

The girl looked closely. There, embroidered small, were the words: Presented to the Young Master of the Blood Intent Gate.

"The Blood Intent Gate!" she breathed—and her faith in the cape's provenance deepened considerably.

Andy flicked out a casual fireball and burned the cape to ash. "I found it on the little island where we all separated. It was surely a defensive artifact—and for it to be ruined like that, the Demon Gate young master's fate was grim indeed. Which means, in turn, that Big Brother Xi is far more likely safe. He must be in seclusion somewhere, attempting his core. Fairy—why not return to the Inner Star Sea with me? Cultivate in peace, and there will be chances enough to meet Big Brother Xi again."

"Thank you, Fifth Brother. The knot of all these years has mostly come undone at last. But there are still places I must visit—things I must confirm. Then I'll return to West Star Island." Her spirits had lifted greatly, but her words rang with unshakable resolve.

Andy knew further persuasion was useless. He took his leave of the girl and returned alone to the Immortal Island of Penglai.

Though his bit of theater had deceived her for now, with devotion like hers, who could say whether she would truly let the matter rest?

Either way—knowing that at least one of his old companions still lived was, for Andy, very good news indeed.

"The Blood Intent Gate!" the girl murmured, long after Andy had gone.

...

Arriving on Penglai, Andy made straight for the market.

He now held beast cores in ample quantity, and meant to return to his dwelling, refine them into pills, and cultivate his way to late-stage Foundation Establishment—perhaps even attempt the great Dao of Core Formation.

For that, he needed a good stock of auxiliary alchemy materials.

His spirit beast, the Ice-Wind Snake, had likewise reached the critical threshold of its breakthrough to rank two, and needed Dragon Transformation Pills refined from rank-two and rank-three flood dragon cores to fuel its advance.

Then there were the jade slips from the Demon Gate young master's pouch, several of which recorded demonic techniques of tremendous power. With the Primal Unity Technique in hand, Andy had no intention of chasing power down the demonic path—but among them were several extraordinary secret arts that even a cultivator not grounded in demonic techniques could practice. These tempted him greatly, and he meant to learn them while the chance offered. That, too, required certain purchases.

Beyond all this, his pouch now held rank-five beast materials in abundance—with his mountain of high-grade spirit stones behind him, he could surely forge a good number of high-grade spirit tools.

And if he could buy some advanced puppets—puppets of Foundation Establishment caliber—he could arm each with a high-grade spirit tool and lift his strength another full step.

Several Foundation Establishment puppets attacking in unison with high-grade spirit tools—even a Core Formation cultivator would be hard pressed to withstand that!

Andy's plans were many and his shopping list long. Thorough preparation was in order.

He donned the black bamboo hat and went first to the Clever Craft Pavilion—only to emerge disappointed before long. The second puppet shop sent him away empty-handed as well.

In all the vast market, only three shops sold puppets. The two largest had no Foundation Establishment puppets to offer; only the last remained to try his luck.

But the moment he asked to buy a puppet of Foundation Establishment strength, the hitherto warm shopkeeper turned cold on the spot and ushered him brusquely out the door.

From the man's manner, one would think Andy had come not to give him business but to make trouble.

Andy knew something lay beneath it—but had no ready way to inquire.

After spending a few spirit stones to hire a local guide, he finally found his answer—or the way to one. The guide, a mere seventh- or eighth-layer Qi Condensation cultivator, didn't know the reason either, but told Andy of a place where any information could be had for the right number of spirit stones.

And so Andy came to a spirit-tea shop called the Myriad Connections Tea House.

The shopkeeper, lounging at ease in a great chair, saw a hat-shadowed cultivator enter and swept a glance across his surface aura—and found, to his surprise, a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

He shot to his feet, caught the attendant who was moving to greet the newcomer, and murmured: "I'll serve this honored guest myself. See to the others." Then he crossed to Andy and bowed with impeccable courtesy. "Had I known Senior was coming, I'd have met you at the door. Please forgive the discourtesy!"