Chapter 29: The First Snow—A Crimson Secret Unfolds

Junior thanks Master Ji for your generous offer. It’s not that I fail to appreciate your kindness—Master Ji’s abilities are vast, and I would be honored a hundredfold to become your disciple. But cultivation is not achieved in a day or two. I still have my parents at home, and a dear friend who’s been abducted, her fate uncertain. I wish to resolve these matters before coming to your tutelage to seek enlightenment. I beg your forgiveness for this.

These words calmed Master Ji. He realized he’d been somewhat hasty—after all, encountering such a rare gem had stirred him. Yet this young man was not swayed by the prospect of apprenticeship and power, and knew how to weigh his priorities—a rare quality.

In truth, Sumu nearly agreed then and there—such fortune had him giddy. But the thought of his parents and An Rui, suffering somewhere unknown, steadied his heart. Only after handling these matters could he devote himself to learning the Way. If he agreed now, and Master Ji required him to never leave his side, what then?

“Very well. I admit I was impatient earlier. Seeing you is like finding a raw jade, uncarved and full of promise. Tell me—does your body differ from others? Do you not feel pain?”

Master Ji’s expression softened as he sought confirmation from Sumu. Though he was all but certain Sumu felt no pain, he needed to hear it.

Sumu found this odd, but it wasn’t a grave secret. He admitted it openly, curious as to how Master Ji had guessed.

“Haha! Do you think just anyone can withstand the Six Insect Heavenly Star medicinal bath? This body-strengthening bath comes in two types—fiery and gentle. The fiery works quickly, the gentle slowly.”

Master Ji reached into the tub, pulling out several herbs and the corpses of a few insects. Pointing at them, he explained: “See these herbs? All highly stimulant, fiercely potent. The five insects were alive when added; the medicinal properties provoke their ferocity. They battle each other within your body, producing unique substances, which, mixed with other medicines, strengthen you. Yet during their struggle, they inevitably bite you—the pain is excruciating, beyond what most can endure.”

He then fished out an insect much larger than the rest. As he brought it out, it kicked its legs, still alive.

“This is the Rot Ant—the exotic insect I mentioned. It alone is unaffected by the medicine and does not join the fray. But when it feeds on decaying flesh, the agony it causes is immense. So while this bath restores you in days and strengthens your body, the pain drives most people mad; almost no one uses it.”

“If you weren’t different—unable to feel pain—how could you endure three days in that bath? Anyone else would rather die than enter.”

Sumu finally understood why his body felt so strange—though he couldn’t describe it. It was these insects gnawing at him, the wounds healed as quickly as they came. Thinking back, he felt his scalp tingle with fear.

“Thank you, Master Ji. But perhaps I should avoid such baths in the future.”

“What are you afraid of? Just close your eyes and sleep through it, and you'll gain a hundred times the benefit of the gentle bath. Isn’t that worth it?”

Sumu had to admit it made sense—saving so much time for other matters, the medicinal bath seemed far less daunting.

“Master Ji, I wish to go somewhere. It’s three days’ journey from Youma County, across the Peach Blossom River—a place called Immortal Burial Valley.”

Sumu thought it over. Since Master Ji sincerely wished to take him as a disciple, he was truly concerned for him. He shouldn’t conceal his plan to seek the Blood Sunflower Immortal.

“What did you say?! Who told you of that place?” Master Ji’s always smiling face suddenly changed, as if the place were a den of dragons and tigers.

“Jiang Yingying told me. She said we were to go there for help, and gave me a red object.” As he spoke, Sumu reached into his robe to retrieve the item, only to remember this wasn’t the same garment.

“Black Crow! Black Crow! Go fetch Sumu’s old ragged clothes—there’s something important inside. Don’t tell me you’ve already thrown them out!” Master Ji beat his chest in frustration. The red object was clearly crucial.

A moment later, Black Crow pushed the door open, his expression embarrassed. He hadn’t realized the humble item was so precious. He quickly handed over a small, red, cylindrical object, delicately carved with blood-red flowers. Master Ji snatched it joyfully, turning it over in his hands with care.

Sumu was deeply curious, but seeing Master Ji treat it as a treasure, he dared not ask for it back.

“Keep it safe. Don’t let me see it again,” Master Ji said reluctantly, shoving it into Sumu’s hands with a pained expression. “Such a treasure is likely what Jiang Yingying stole from Pinglong Fortress. Her destination was Immortal Burial Valley. Everything about the Jinxue Palace token was probably a distraction.”

“What exactly is it? Why do you value it so highly? I only recall Jiang Yingying instructing me to hold it in my mouth when entering the valley, or my life would be at risk.” Sumu asked eagerly.

“Ah, it seems Jiang Yingying does care for you. The origin of this red object is extraordinary, but few know of it. If it’s genuine, you are truly favored by fortune. Do you know its purpose? Or who the Blood Sunflower Immortal is?”

Sumu knew none of this, waiting for Master Ji’s explanation.

“To discuss the Blood Sunflower Immortal, we must begin with the First Snow Hall. Among cultivators, entering First Snow Hall is the highest honor—it marks the pinnacle of the path. Yet entry is not granted to all.”

“It’s said the Hall contains methods for attaining immortality, and relics left by ancient immortals—the Autumn Immortal relics. Only those who return from these relics are called ‘Flying Immortals on Earth,’ the elite of cultivators. Last time the Hall opened, twenty-eight entered; only two returned whole. The Blood Sunflower Immortal was one.”

“The Hall opens unpredictably—sometimes every hundred years, sometimes a decade or more. It is guarded by four hidden clans. When it opens, they announce it to the world and hold the Autumn Immortal Ceremony to select the worthiest entrants.”

“Sixteen years ago, the Blood Sunflower Immortal emerged from the Hall, having gained immense power. Her cultivation of the Blood Sunflower Divine Art reached its peak—terrifying and domineering. No ordinary cultivator could match her. Her fame soared, and her art was named among the Five Great Divine Skills.”

“At that time, she broke the five fingers of her right hand, placed them in five wooden boxes, and had them scattered across the world. She declared: ‘The Blood Sunflower Immortal has fulfilled her vow—her five fingers broken, and for twenty years they shall not regrow; she will be disabled for twenty years.’ The reason for this vow remains unknown.”

“Eventually, it was rumored that anyone who found one of the five fingers could ask the Blood Sunflower Immortal for a favor. It seemed mere hearsay, until someone actually found a finger, brought it to Immortal Burial Valley, and made a request. The Immortal agreed, and then the mighty Zhenhuang Secret Sect was wiped out by her. The world was shaken. The broken fingers became treasures beyond compare. Do you understand now?”

Master Ji spoke at length, his mouth dry, while Sumu’s head spun. The object was of such importance—how had Jiang Yingying acquired it, and why give it to him? Something felt amiss.

“How did Jiang Yingying come by the finger?”

“It’s already weathered and dry, looking quite unremarkable. No one in the world knows its whereabouts. Searching for it is like looking for a needle in the sea. Many have made forgeries for their own gain; countless fakes circulate. If you bring a fake finger to Immortal Burial Valley, you’re courting death. I urge you to think carefully—if it’s false, you’re seeking your own end.”

This secret was new to Sumu, making his heart race. Still, he felt little concern. He didn’t wish to ask the Blood Sunflower Immortal for anything grand—only to help rescue An Rui. With such a renowned figure, surely she could help. Yet if the finger were fake, it would be disastrous.

“How do you compare to the Blood Sunflower Immortal, Master Ji?” Sumu regarded Master Ji as a figure akin to an immortal; surely he was not far behind.

“Me? Heh. Even the Immortal’s three disciples are far superior. If she wished to kill me, it would be no harder than swatting a mosquito,” Master Ji replied, self-deprecating.

Sumu was astonished, rendered speechless. He realized he was like a frog at the bottom of a well, ignorant of the vastness above. He thought himself already a cultivator of some skill, yet compared to Master Ji, he was a firefly to the moon; and between Master Ji and the Blood Sunflower Immortal, the gap was even greater—beyond imagining.

“Master, if I went to Immortal Burial Valley without the finger, could I meet the Blood Sunflower Immortal and ask her to save An Rui?”

“Where was your friend taken? Must it be the Blood Sunflower Immortal to resolve it? Who abducted her—was it someone from a major sect?”

Master Ji was unclear about An Rui’s abduction, so he asked.

“She was taken by Zhou Chen of Pinglong Fortress. Jiang Yingying said she’s being held by the people of Heavenly Pavilion Water Fragrance Hall.”

“Hmph, Water Fragrance Hall? I thought something serious was troubling you. I’ll send Black Crow to rescue your friend. Pinglong Fortress is nothing—I have enough reputation to handle them.”

“Just Black Crow, Master? I’ve heard there are many people there.” Sumu was concerned, reminding him. He wished to ask Master Ji to go himself, but felt embarrassed.

“If Black Crow can’t handle such a petty place, he needn’t come back,” Master Ji said confidently.

“Thank you, Master, this is tremendous help!” Sumu trusted Master Ji completely and was overjoyed, bowing deeply.

Master Ji stood and helped Sumu up, his expression solemn. “Sumu, you haven’t yet formally entered my tutelage, but there is a technique vital to both of us. The sooner you begin cultivating it, the better. Will you accept?”

“What technique is it? My Star Source is still dormant—no trace of energy. I couldn’t cultivate even if I wanted to.” Sumu, eager to begin training, was nonetheless worried about his Star Source.

“No matter. In two days, the Myriad Poisons Reincarnation medicinal bath will be ready. It will resolve your issue. The Divine Art I wish you to learn is very special—I must explain it first.”

“Please, Master.” Hearing the words “Myriad Poisons Reincarnation,” Sumu shivered, forcing himself to ask.

Master Ji returned to his seat, his hands resting on his knees, and fixed Sumu with a steady gaze.

“My master passed away seven years ago. I followed him from childhood, but he never revealed our sect. He often called himself a Wanderer of the Horizon, and refused to divulge his name.”

“Before his passing, he told me a few things. All his teachings are of the heterodox path, looked down upon by orthodox cultivators. He never spoke of sects, rarely revealed his arts, lest I inadvertently cause trouble.”

Sumu listened carefully, thinking to himself that the terrifying medicinal baths made sense—Master Ji’s teachings were unorthodox. Yet Sumu cared little about distinctions between right and wrong; to him, all cultivation paths were wondrous.