Protecting You for a Lifetime

Ling Sprout Grass was an exceedingly precious herb, and the Withered Wood Vine it could catalyze was even rarer. To present a thousand pieces at once, merely as the materials for the first round of the test, was truly beyond belief. In the second round, the reckless mixing of many spiritual herbs’ medicinal powers was an act of pure extravagance.

The night passed uneventfully, save for an uncommon rainfall. Fine droplets drifted down, but the ground held no puddles; only the green tiles gained a faint sheen of moisture. By the next morning, a somber sky hung low, giving the illusion that even the spiritual energy in the air had grown scarce.

At first light, he arrived at Azurefall Peak, only to be surprised by the number of people already gathered in the plaza. Some unknown spell had been cast, for the smooth plaza, paved with white jade tiles, had changed dramatically overnight. At its center now stood a raised platform, about three feet high, upon which rested two cauldrons reaching chest height. The dark golden cauldrons were etched with intricate patterns, and faintly, seven stars could be seen encircling them.

“Seven Star Cauldrons?”

He turned his head, sweeping his gaze across the scene. Why was his master here? The question rose in his mind, bringing a trace of confusion. As Qin Chuan searched, he saw a man with an immortal’s bearing, his brows and eyes alight with a gentle smile, conversing with an elderly Daoist.

Qin Chuan certainly recognized this man, though he had never met him in person. He had seen his likeness in various records—he was none other than the Elder of the First Pill Pavilion. The other Daoists present were mostly strangers to him, but their profound cultivation spoke for itself; these were the venerable elders of the Azure Mountain Sect.

Were it not for his master’s presence, Qin Chuan would not have joined the commotion, but with her here, the situation was different.

“Disciple Qin Chuan pays his respects to Master, to the Pavilion Lord, and to all the esteemed elders.” He performed the proper courtesies and stood quietly to one side.

“Oh? So this is the disciple you accepted not long ago?” The elder nodded, his gaze toward Qin Chuan full of kindness. He leaned on an ordinary yellowwood cane; his goatee was neatly combed, and if not for his plain black Daoist robe, one might mistake him for any old villager. His cultivation was so perfectly concealed that not the slightest trace could be discerned.

Qin Chuan’s master was, as ever, strikingly beautiful. She received his salute with a slight nod. “Over a month ago, I saw that his fate was intertwined with the immortal path and took him as my disciple, to pass on my mantle.”

“It’s a pity I was in seclusion at the time and missed the formal acceptance ceremony,” someone else lamented, a note of regret in their tone.

His master’s status was evidently extraordinary. Even the many elder Daoists, advanced in years themselves, addressed her as juniors, which left Qin Chuan inwardly astonished.

More and more people arrived at Azurefall Peak, and the gathering soon took on the air of a grand assembly. Qin Chuan recognized many of the peak lords—if not all ten, then at least eight. Among them was Fang Mu, who, after paying respects to Qin Chuan and the assembled elders, stood quietly, his demeanor respectful and cautious.

After about half an hour, his master finally extricated herself from her conversations and beckoned Qin Chuan to her side. Only when no one else was near did she speak.

“Were you hurt at all within the Realm of Listening Wind?” she asked, her gaze, for once, tinged with gentleness.

“Master, I am unharmed,” Qin Chuan replied with formal composure.

Unmoved by his rote answer, she shifted the subject. “I know you have many doubts in your heart,” she said. “Fuluan’s origins are shrouded in mystery—even I do not fully comprehend them. You need only continue on your path. When you reach the end, remember to look back on what I say to you today.

“No matter what you choose, I will always protect you.”

With those words, she raised her right forefinger and gently touched Qin Chuan’s brow. Instantly, a cool, clear force surged into him, coursing from his mind down his spine, through his limbs, and finally gathering in his dantian. This touch brought no change to his cultivation, but Qin Chuan was inwardly shaken—wounds he’d suffered unknowingly in the other realm were healed in an instant. His meridians felt open and unimpeded, his mind clear, and even his soul seemed subtly strengthened.

He felt the steady, powerful beat of his heart and, elated, was about to offer thanks when he noticed his master looked somewhat fatigued.

“I have always regarded Pear Moon as my child. Aside from her, you are Fuluan’s only disciple. I am no great teacher—though I possess some Daoist attainments, ultimately, you must find understanding on your own. That touch was to make up for what I owe you over these past days.”

Her face pale, she took out a pill and swallowed it, regaining some color before turning to leave. Qin Chuan bowed deeply behind her, murmuring, “My teacher.”

It was growing late. Fifty paces from the platform, many were already seated cross-legged, awaiting the start of the third round of the Pill Assembly.

The sect elders mostly gathered in the pavilions beyond the plaza. Atop one such pavilion, resembling a bird in flight, was a watchtower with a clear view of the square below. Though spacious, it could not accommodate more than a hundred people. At this hour, two middle-aged Daoists lingered at the back, whispering.

“I wonder how that lad acquired the pill formula. In today’s cultivation world, body-tempering pills that directly enhance the flesh are exceedingly rare, all guarded by ancient, secretive sects. Even Azure Mountain has few such formulas.”

“What’s truly remarkable is that the herbs required are extremely common—even a child at the first level of Qi Refinement could make this pill.”

“Alas, someone intervened and caused this pearl to be covered in dust. It’s a disgrace! For the sake of personal gain, they’ve harmed the sect’s interests.”

Just then, Wang Feng flicked his duster from behind and interrupted them. “Brother Qu, mind your words!”

The two Daoists started in alarm at Wang Feng’s sudden, silent appearance. “Brother Wang, when did you get here?”

Wang Feng ignored the question, his gaze strange. “Perhaps your cultivation is not yet sufficient, but when one reaches a higher level, even standing ten paces away, one can hear every word if they wish.”

He cast a meaningful glance at the watchtower, his tone icy. “Let alone those true elders.”

The two exchanged nervous looks, shivered, and hurried down the stairs in silence, terrified that some annoyed elder might cut out their tongues.

Qin Chuan’s master, watching from afar, had heard everything. She did not believe for a moment that, without the Elder’s tacit approval, those two would dare be so brazen. Clearly, what they voiced was what most present were thinking.

The Elder, cunning as he was, knew that the First Pill Pavilion alone could not wrest this lost body-tempering pill formula from Fuluan Hall. So, he cast out bait, muddying the waters.

Now, all the influential elders in the sect knew that an ordinary disciple had come by a heaven-defying pill formula—the long-lost body-tempering pill. The bait was in the water, the fish were biting, and with another pill assembly, the waters grew ever more turbid.

The school of fish splashed eagerly, ready to snap up the bait. The question was, could Fuluan or the master stop them?