Vessel of Worlds

"Shuo'er isn't afraid of hardship!" the boy said, his voice firm.

Andy nodded. "Mm. At your age, to have survived alone on that cliff for over ten days—such steadiness is beyond most people. But hardship like that isn't worth mentioning next to the rigors of cultivating the immortal arts. If you would take me as your master, your parents must consent first!"

The young woman beside them—numbed already by the day's cascade of shocks—snapped back at those words and hastily prostrated herself. "I beg the island lord to accept my son as his disciple!" Her husband said nothing, but bowed over and over at her side, his eyes shining with hope, plainly begging with all he had.

Andy said no more, only studied the boy a while longer.

The more he looked, the better he liked him: quick and clever, steadfast under hardship, and his background simple and clean, trailing no entanglements. The single flaw was his thoroughly ordinary aptitude—but Andy's own roots were nothing to boast of, so he weighed that lightly.

All considered, taking such a disciple seemed no bad thing at all.

So he said gravely: "Shi Shuo. If you take me as your master and study my methods, can you cast aside distraction and train with unstinting diligence?"

"This disciple can!" the boy answered cleanly.

"And when your master gives you a task in days to come, will you give it your whole heart?"

"My very life was saved by my master. Henceforth I will obey his command through fire and flood!" The boy answered as fluently as if he had rehearsed it.

Andy nodded, satisfied. "Very well. From this day, you are my disciple."

"Thank you, Master!" Overjoyed, the boy knocked his head to the ground several more times—then felt an invisible force lift him gently, raising him to his feet whether he would or no.

The middle-aged couple watched the scene through a tangle of feelings—delight shot through with the ache of parting. As for old Zhang, tears were already streaming down his weathered face as he murmured: "To think the Zhang line has produced an immortal master after all!" Even the mute son-in-law he had never much cared for now seemed dear beyond words—for without him, there would be no treasured grandson to let an old man die without regret.

Andy's own mood had warmed. He told the three: "For Shuo'er's sake, your punishment is remitted. But henceforth, without permission, not one step onto Luojia Mountain!"

Before the words had fully faded, he had caught the boy's arm—and vanished into the cloud and mist of the peaks.

The three stood gazing at the churning sea of clouds along the range, lost in thought for a long, long time...

Andy carved out a simple new dwelling for Shi Shuo inside a peak beside his own, then gave him the Chasing Waves Technique and several bottles of Qi Condensation pills, setting him to study and practice at his own pace. Andy had once practiced the Chasing Waves Technique himself, and had recorded his insights in a jade slip—once Shi Shuo's cultivation ripened enough to grant him spiritual sense, he could consult it.

He bestowed several artifacts on the boy besides, gave his instructions, and bade him cultivate quietly in the dwelling and venture out only at need.

Then Andy returned to his own dwelling and settled into long meditation.

Another seven or eight years slipped past in a blink.

This text was taken from NovelFire. Help the author by reading the original version there.

For mortals, seven or eight years was time enough to change everything: birth and age, sickness and death; boys shooting up into men, trading carefree days for a family's burdens; wrinkles stealing across faces no longer young; the strong beginning their slow decline, bodies failing day by day...

For a high-ranked cultivator, seven or eight years was no more than one breath of meditation, gently drawn out.

In those years Andy at last raised his cultivation to the very peak of late-stage Foundation Establishment. One bottleneck—Core Formation—now stood between him and the ranks of core cultivators.

But to push his odds higher still, further preparations were needed, and for that he had to leave Luojia Island for a time.

On this day, he came to Shi Shuo's dwelling.

The Shi Shuo of today had grown into a tall, handsome youth. A trace of boyishness lingered between his brows, but the unmistakable air of a cultivator—free, unworldly—showed in everything about him. The clever mortal child of years past might have been another person entirely.

"Shuo'er greets Master!" the youth said, saluting with delight. This master of his came every three to five years without fail—resolving the knots in his cultivation, and each time leaving a fresh supply of pills and elixirs that freed his practice of every material worry.

Those medicines were trifles to Andy—but to a Qi Condensation cultivator they were precious beyond price, and potent.

Fueled by such abundance, the youth's cultivation had surged: in seven or eight years he had reached the twelfth layer of Qi Condensation.

The pace startled Andy considerably. Generous as his provision had been, a four-rooted disciple ought not to have advanced so smoothly.

He had even retested Shi Shuo's roots—four roots, beyond question.

Unable to account for it, Andy chalked it up to the youth's single-minded, unstinting diligence, and was pleased for him.

The sooner Shi Shuo reached Foundation Establishment, the sooner he could be of real help. For even simple information-gathering, Qi Condensation plainly wouldn't suffice.

And Andy's visit today touched exactly on that.

Acknowledging the youth's dutiful greeting with a nod, Andy motioned him up and seated himself on a stone chair.

He produced a storage pouch and set it on the stone table. "Shuo'er—inside are several Foundation Establishment Pills, refined by your master expressly for you. At your current cultivation, it's nearly time you attempted Foundation Establishment."

The youth was overjoyed. Foundation Establishment Pills required rank-four and rank-five beast cores to refine—cores that Foundation Establishment cultivators themselves hoarded jealously, loath to spend on pill-making. Outside the core disciples of sects and great clans, an ordinary Qi Condensation cultivator could not even dream of them.

Yet his master handed them over as if they were nothing—and more than one, by the sound of it!

For a boy of no background and pseudo spiritual roots to have found so open-handed a master—what luck beyond luck! He couldn't help thinking again how wise a choice it had been, that day he begged Andy for apprenticeship.

"Thank you, Master!" Shi Shuo made another deep bow of gratitude.

Andy waved it aside, his expression turning grave. "This time your master must leave Luojia Island for a stretch—years at the least, decades at the most; even I cannot say when I'll return. The island is in your keeping for now. In the pouch are spirit stones, talismans, formations, several fine artifacts, and a few bottles of pills suited to early-stage Foundation Establishment. Treasures enough to keep you safe and more among ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators."

"Master—is this journey to attempt Core Formation?" the youth asked. Andy had spoken of it before.

"It is," Andy admitted. "This time your master enters life-death seclusion—I will not emerge short of success. So there are matters I must entrust to you."

"Command me, Master. This disciple will obey!" the youth said gravely.

Andy nodded. "After I leave, seclude yourself here and attempt Foundation Establishment. If you succeed, you may go out and travel awhile. But mark me: never flaunt your wealth; guard yourself at every turn. The cultivation world is a storm of blood and a nest of schemes—only through tempering can you ever amount to anything."

"And while you travel—if the chance arises—quietly seek word of someone for me. Her name is Yun Mengli, a female cultivator of late-stage Foundation Establishment, or perhaps Core Formation by now. In the pouch is a jade slip recording her likeness. But she rarely shows her true face and may not use her true name, so the search will be slow—no thread will surface quickly. It will take patience. Understand also: she is a master of great skill on the formation path. And remember—this must be done in silence, with no one the wiser. There is no urgency; take your time."

"Does Master have any message for this disciple to carry to the senior?" the youth asked.

"No. Word of her is all I want—leave nothing behind. Your master needs only to know whether she is safe and well. That is enough," Andy said quietly.