Chapter 28: Upon Hearing the Great Way, There Is No Before or After

Su Mu once again drifted into sleep from the depths of his sorrow and pain. Mr. Ji rose and quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind him. As soon as he stepped outside, he found Hei Ya and his companions eavesdropping at the door. When they saw Mr. Ji, they hurriedly pretended to be deep in conversation. Mr. Ji snorted in irritation, waved his hand dismissively, and strode off.

“Chief Hei Ya, why do you think Master Ji is putting this kid through so much right now? Shouldn’t he be allowed to recover first?” Ye Hai, his left eye blinded, squinted his remaining eye and leaned in close to Hei Ya.

With Mr. Ji at a distance, Hei Ya relaxed, elegantly settled onto the stone bench by the door, and cast a sidelong glance at the others who quickly gathered around. At the slightest twitch of his lips, an attentive subordinate rushed to offer him hot tea.

“I overheard Master Ji instructing someone to ride day and night to the boy’s hometown to uncover his background, no matter the cost. It seems Master Ji holds great hopes for this boy. Everything he’s said and done so far—part kindness, part strategy—is meant to win the boy’s trust and ensure he relies on no one but the master. You all know our lord’s methods,” Hei Ya whispered, savoring a sip of tea.

The others realized the truth at once, nodding in admiration. Clearly, each of them was familiar with their master’s ways.

“Hei Ya, come here.”

Hei Ya was just about to speak again when Mr. Ji’s voice suddenly echoed down from above. Without hesitation, Hei Ya put down his tea and vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Master!” Hei Ya’s shadow drifted into Mr. Ji’s room like a wisp of black mist, kneeling on one knee with a fist to his chest in salute.

“Fetch a few items from the black carriage—here’s the order. Also, hurry the men preparing the Ten Thousand Poisons Rebirth Bath; I have a feeling this time, success is within my grasp.”

Though Mr. Ji’s tone was calm, the way he gripped the book in his hand—its cover now warped—betrayed his inner turmoil.

“Congratulations, Master! If you succeed, your name will surely be recorded among the immortals. In a decade or so, even the Lord of First Snow Palace will have to acknowledge you, and your mark will be left upon the Autumn Immortal’s relics.” Hei Ya, overjoyed at Mr. Ji’s words, rushed to offer his felicitations.

“Hahaha, perhaps so.” Mr. Ji made no attempt to hide his delight, laughing heartily within the chamber. After a few more instructions to Hei Ya, he dismissed him and turned back to his book. The slightly yellowed cover bore, in bold black characters, the title: “The Nether God’s Illusory Heart Technique.”

Su Mu drifted in and out of consciousness, staring blankly when awake, but with each passing cycle, his body and spirit grew stronger. The agony that had consumed him faded, and hunger returned to gnaw at his insides.

“Is anyone there? I’m a little hungry.” Su Mu’s lips were parched, his throat painfully dry. It took several attempts to force out the words, his voice hoarse as he called toward the door.

Soon, someone pushed open the door and entered, carrying a tray with a steaming porcelain bowl. The aroma was so tempting that Su Mu couldn’t help but swallow.

It was Mr. Ji himself. He had just checked on Su Mu earlier, but seeing him still asleep, had stepped outside. When he heard Su Mu’s call, he immediately ordered a servant to bring the broth that had been kept warm for just such a moment.

“How do you feel? Any better? Have you come to terms with things?” Mr. Ji set the bowl down with a smile and, spooning up the broth, fed Su Mu mouthful by mouthful.

This sudden kindness nearly brought Su Mu to tears. He couldn’t believe that this great figure, who had only met him once, would treat him so well. Everyone from Pinglong Fort wanted him dead, Jiang Yingying had deceived and abandoned him, and yet this elder, ten times more powerful than any of them, showed him such care. Moved and ashamed, Su Mu remembered how he’d once feared this old man would harm him.

“I’ve thought it through. It’s all my fault—I wasn’t strong enough, and that’s why An Rui was taken by villains. And I was too foolish, letting Jiang Yingying deceive me for so long without even realizing it.”

“You’re not foolish—you’re simply a child, not yet grown, with a kind heart, too trusting of others. In this vast world, there are countless people, and among them, who knows how many harbor ill intentions? You, still untested in the world’s dangers, haven’t yet seen its treachery and the law of the strong. It’s not your fault. Now that you’ve experienced these things, you’ll be better prepared for the future.”

Su Mu nodded, drank a few more mouthfuls of the deep yellow broth. Though the taste was bitter, he could feel Mr. Ji’s sincerity in every drop, and he finished it all.

Mr. Ji watched with satisfaction as Su Mu drank every last drop, then touched his forehead.

“The medicine’s potency is spent; it’s time for you to come out. Your fever’s gone, too—you should move around a bit.”

With both hands, Mr. Ji removed the lid covering the wooden tub Su Mu was in, revealing its contents.

Su Mu looked down at himself and nearly vomited on the spot. Screaming, he tumbled out of the tub, scrambling away in terror.

“Master, what are all those things in there? I’ve been soaking in that for days?” Su Mu clutched his naked body, shivering.

The tub was teeming with countless black insects, mixed with mounds of crushed herbs, nearly filling half the container. When Su Mu glanced at himself, he saw his body covered in writhing bugs—a sight that nearly made him wish for death.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Nature is wondrous beyond measure. Among its marvels is this species of rare insect—hideous to look at, but they crave decay. When they consume rotten flesh, they secrete a substance that repairs and strengthens your body. These insects are precious and difficult to cultivate, but their effects are extraordinary. Look at yourself.”

Despite Mr. Ji’s explanation, Su Mu still felt sick, but when he examined his body, all his wounds had vanished—even the large patch of missing flesh on his leg was whole, his entire body tougher than before.

“For those who cultivate their vital essence, it’s not enough to refine starlight and hone the meridians—the body itself must be tempered to withstand the strengthening of the pulse. Without the support of a major sect or wealthy family, few can afford the resources to cleanse and improve the body, let alone continue their cultivation.”

Su Mu was taken aback. Jiang Yingying had never told him any of this—he hadn’t realized there was so much to the path of cultivation.

“I still don’t know your esteemed name, sir. Would you teach me more about cultivation? I’ve realized I truly know nothing about it.”

Su Mu bowed respectfully to Mr. Ji. Hearing how rare these insects were, he could imagine how costly just this single medicinal bath must have been. He had no idea why the elder was treating him so generously, but he was determined to make the most of the opportunity to learn.

“Very well. You’ll need to know these things in time, and it will help you become accustomed to your body.” Mr. Ji smiled. “But first, cover up—are you trying to challenge me, old as I am? Hahaha!”

Su Mu blushed furiously, grabbing the clean set of clothes that had been prepared for him and hurriedly dressing.

“My surname is Ji—as in calculation. Don’t get it wrong,” Mr. Ji said, smiling as he watched Su Mu change, without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

Su Mu, face still red, dressed quickly and bowed again. “Yes, Master Ji.”

“The Divine Land is home to three great sects and four major schools, each with vast networks and countless disciples. These are the sacred grounds all cultivators yearn for, holding sway over half the cultivation world. The rest is divided among various noble families and mysterious sects. Should you one day travel far and wide, you’ll encounter wonders and marvels beyond your imagination.”

Su Mu listened in rapt fascination, eager to ask more, but Master Ji continued:

“You are still too weak, and your starlight is depleted. Right now, your priority is to restore your source. The basics can be explained in due course.”

Su Mu quickly bowed. “I ask for your guidance, Master Ji.”

“I will handle the matter of your starlight. Be patient. Once it’s restored, I’ll help you reach the rank of Tianzi. You must also work hard.”

“Master Ji, I’ve heard the name ‘Tianzi’ for a long time, but I don’t know what it truly means.”

“You don’t know that? Very well. ‘Tianzi’ is the great divide for cultivators. Before reaching Tianzi, no title is given—such people are nameless in the world of cultivation, not even worth mentioning. But to become Tianzi is to be recognized as a true cultivator.”

“The name means ‘Heaven’s Favored Child.’ To possess starlight and step onto the cultivation path is to be blessed by the heavens.”

Su Mu clenched his fists. “Then how does one become Tianzi?”

“When you channel your starlight to release power, does it emit light?” Master Ji asked suddenly.

“No, only when I first opened my source did it shine,” Su Mu answered honestly.

“What?! You opened your source by yourself? Not with Jiang Yingying’s help?” Master Ji was astounded.

“Extraordinary, truly extraordinary!” he repeated, his smile widening. “When your starlight shines as you circulate your power, that is the sign you have entered the ranks of Tianzi. Cultivators are rare, but not exceedingly so—yet even among them, only half attain this state in a lifetime.”

Su Mu was stunned. It seemed the title of Tianzi was no easy thing to claim.

“How long have you been cultivating? From what I heard, you managed to escape from two Tianzi—no small feat.”

Su Mu calculated silently. “It’s been just over two months,” he replied, feeling disheartened. He’d barely made progress toward becoming Tianzi, and his starlight had never shone again.

“What?! Two months?” Master Ji was shocked a second time. Was this foolish boy actually a genius?

Su Mu was bewildered by such a reaction. Jiang Yingying always called him slow—was his progress actually remarkable?

Master Ji rubbed his hands together, his face flushed, muttering, “This is a rare chance… No, I mustn’t let it slip by… If he doesn’t acknowledge me someday… I’d regret it forever… There’s only one way…”

At last, Master Ji made up his mind. He strode toward Su Mu and asked, “Let me ask you—would you be willing to become my disciple? I will teach you a divine technique.”