Vessel of Worlds

Faint as the girl's voice was, to Andy—a cultivator of many years—it landed like thunder in his ears, every word distinct.

He froze where he stood, saying neither yes nor no.

The girl whose beauty already stole his soul now wore two blooms of crimson shyness on her cheeks, a sight that stirred tenderness and longing in equal measure—and Andy couldn't help but look a few moments longer.

Then he sighed softly and said: "I'm honored by your regard, Fairy. But I have no intention of dual cultivation. And in cultivation and aptitude alike, I'm frankly no match for you. What brought this thought on so suddenly?"

Since coming into the Vessel of Worlds, Andy had long since resolved to walk the path alone.

The secret the small bowl carried was simply too vast. Even the closest of companions might, in time, conceive dark designs to possess it alone. He would never permit another living soul to learn of the bowl.

The girl before him moved his heart, truly—but a dual cultivation partner she could never be.

Partners lived face to face, day upon day; each knew the other's techniques, cultivation, and progress down to the last detail. If he went on using the bowl's peak-grade pills, notice was inevitable. And his wealth—so wildly out of proportion to his cultivation—would be grounds for suspicion all by itself.

Sooner or later, the bowl's secret would spill out. For a heaven-defying treasure of that order, spouses turning on each other and brothers spilling blood was nothing rare.

Suppose instead they wed but cultivated separately, never intruding on one another—then, yes, the secret might stay his alone. But what would distinguish that from cultivating alone in the first place? Why go to the trouble of taking a partner at all—only to gain one more attachment?

And for Daoist methods that prized a heart still as water, one more attachment meant one more stray thought—one more possible obstacle on the path.

So thinking, he drew a long breath—and refused her invitation with cold finality.

The flush drained from the girl's cheeks, leaving them ashen. She lifted her head and managed a strained smile. "It seems Mengli's looks are too plain to meet Brother Zhao's standard for a companion. As for why I raised the matter at all—read this slip and you'll understand. Truly, man proposes and heaven disposes!"

With a light sweep of her right hand, the jade slip in her palm floated slowly toward Andy.

He stopped it with a pointed finger a chi before him, then sank his spiritual sense inside.

A short while later, Andy murmured: "So that's how it is."

The slip revealed that the "women's technique" Yun Mengli had described had in fact been derived by the ancient female cultivator from a profoundly subtle method of paired male-female dual cultivation. That ancient mistress—a genius the heavens rarely granted—had lost her dual cultivation partner during her Core Formation years, by what cause the slip did not say. Unwilling to seek another, she had chosen in the end to walk on alone.

But all her prior cultivation rested on dual methods balancing yin and yang, and she was loath to abandon her foundation. So, on the strength of her astonishing intellect, she carved from that paired method a technique a woman could practice alone—and a supreme one at that, swift in progress and mighty in its powers.

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Yet the derived method remained imperfect, with two flaws that could not be engineered away: the bottleneck between late-stage Foundation Establishment and Core Formation, and the bottleneck between late-stage Core Formation and Nascent Soul. The ancient mistress had studied both exhaustively and never solved them. At those two junctures, the practitioner had no choice but to borrow the paired strength of a male cultivator—one whose primal yang was intact and whose cultivation was close to her own—and break through on the harmony of yin and yang. Without that, there was no chance at all.

Conversely, when the conditions were met, the breakthrough's success rate ran far higher than any ordinary technique's.

And that, plainly, was what the Fairy Mengli had set her eyes on.

So her heart was set on the Dao with rare iron—for the sake of Core Formation, she was willing even to give herself to him in dual cultivation. Privately, Andy thought: this Fairy Mengli and I are the same breed.

But Andy had the Primal Unity Technique, forged expressly for five-rooted cultivators; a dual cultivation method held nothing for him. So, though with real regret, he said again: "My aptitude is dull—truly unsuited to walk the great road at your side. Seek a worthier match, Fairy." He returned the slip and turned to leave.

"Wait!" The girl called him back—then stood a long while, unable to force the words out.

Andy waited patiently. He half-guessed her purpose already, and his own heart was far from calm.

After long hesitation, the girl finally said, very softly: "It... needn't be as partners, then. Brother... Brother Zhao is still of primal yang body, yes? Could you... that primal yang essence... when Mengli attempts Core Formation, I will need..."

The words plainly cost her dearly, broken and halting—but Andy understood.

Even a man with skin as thick as Andy's flushed scarlet at this. "I—I've heard that keeping the primal yang or primal yin body lends some small aid at bottlenecks. That's why I've preserved mine," he said—managing, once again, to produce a plausible-sounding excuse.

Suddenly the girl drew back her right sleeve, baring an arm pale and smooth as jade lotus-root, and said with painful shyness: "Look, Brother Zhao. Mengli was born with the Clear Heart Pure Spirit Body—there is a thread of Clear Heart Pure Spirit Qi within me. Mengli is willing to pass this refined qi to you... in compensation for your... your primal yang..."

At the crook of her elbow lay a mark the size of a mung bean, lucent blue—like a half-transparent droplet of water floating on her cream-white skin. She touched it lightly, and a slender blue spirit-phoenix several cun long shimmered into being along her arm, mysterious beyond words.

Andy knew it: that droplet mark was the fabled Clear Heart Pure Spirit Seal. It appeared in only the rarest few female cultivators, always from birth.

A girl bearing the seal was said to possess the Clear Heart Pure Spirit Body, generating within her a refined essence called Clear Heart Pure Spirit Qi—renowned as one of the seven great refined energies of the cultivation world.

As the girl's cultivation grew, the thread of qi grew slightly with it—yet to the woman herself, it was entirely useless.

And the moment she joined with a man and lost her primal yin, the seal vanished instantly, and the qi with it.

Before that, she could transmit the qi to one male cultivator by touch of hand or mouth. To a male cultivator of comparable rank, that refined essence was a supreme treasure—its effects varied, but wonders were common: power surging manyfold, or bottlenecks breaking open. On a cultivator of much higher rank, however, it showed no marked effect.

And the qi could pass to a man only when the girl gave it with a wholly willing heart—no force or theft could take it.

Small wonder that whenever a girl of this constitution appeared, male cultivators fought tooth and claw, wheedling and scheming for dual cultivation and that precious thread of essence.

And the girl before him was, on top of everything, a late-stage Foundation Establishment beauty of staggering loveliness.

What Foundation Establishment man alive would refuse her? Even Core Formation cultivators would court her favor by every art—only, men of Core Formation whose primal yang remained intact were few. Why she had sought him out, of all people, he couldn't guess. Did she truly know no Core Formation man of primal yang body—or was there some hidden reason besides?

Against the so-called primal yang body, one of the seven great refined energies of the cultivation world was worth a hundred times more, no question.

With that, Andy's last thread of excuse for refusal was gone. Almost unable to bear it, he said: "You honor me, Fairy—but I truly don't deserve—"

He never finished. The girl had already drifted close, and a pair of impossibly soft lips sealed away his words. A fragrance of hidden orchids washed over him; her mouth was warm and silken, and before he knew it he was returning the kiss, his arm circling her waist.

With one soft, gasping cry, the girl melted into his embrace...