Chapter Fourteen: This Boy Fears Pain

Tian Xuanzi, whose original name was Zhao Tianxuan, was the founding patriarch of the Qian Xuan Sect. Five hundred years ago, as his lifespan drew to its end, he passed away within the sect. The elder within the Ten Prisons Tower was merely a manifestation of Tian Xuanzi’s consciousness. Since it was not formed from spiritual energy, Shen Wan was able to perceive it.

Tian Xuanzi led the way, with the three following closely behind. Soon, they passed through a short corridor inside the residence and arrived before a wooden door. Tian Xuanzi rotated his palm, and with a crisp click, the door slowly opened.

“Here I have stored the rewards left for you. Anyone who successfully passes through the Ten Prisons may claim one item from within.”

At last, they reached the heart of the matter. Tian Xuanzi spoke slowly, while the three were already eager to try their luck.

“Just one? This tower is so difficult to climb—can’t you give us a few more?” Shen Wan, though excited, still attempted to bargain.

Another light cough. Tian Xuanzi again gave him a sidelong glance, then continued, “The treasures I left within the tower number less than a hundred, and each is extraordinary. To obtain even one is a great stroke of fortune. Remember: few things are more bitter than excessive desire. Learn to be content—there is nothing wrong with ambition, but leave something for those who come after; that is human kindness, and the seed of goodness.”

Tian Xuanzi spoke as a wise elder advising the younger generation, his tone gentle and moving. The underlying meaning was clear: “If you each take more than one, the tower’s treasures will soon be exhausted.”

Shen Wan, listening to this archaic speech, understood some of it. In truth, it was just stinginess dressed up in noble words. Yet Lin Bufan and Zhu Qianqing, who listened beside him, seemed to gain some insight, their eyes burning as they looked at the elder, nodding in agreement.

The elder smiled with satisfaction at the two—so teachable, these young ones. Then he looked at Shen Wan: truly annoying, hmph.

…

Gazing at the open wooden door before them, endless possibilities lay within. Tian Xuanzi stepped back, leaving the path clear. The three exchanged glances, but none rushed to be first. In the end, Shen Wan and Lin Bufan, as if agreed upon, each stepped back and yielded the way to Zhu Qianqing.

“Go ahead—ladies first.”

Seeing their gesture, a trace of gratitude flashed in Zhu Qianqing’s eyes. Without further hesitation, she stepped through the door.

In the darkness, Zhu Qianqing moved forward slowly. Soon, a glimmer of light appeared in her vision. When she emerged from the shadowed path, she was stunned by the sight before her.

Within the illusory space stood a towering tree, its golden leaves rubbing against each other, creating a melodious sound that entered the ear like a soft musical line, inspiring an almost transcendent feeling. From the enormous tree, countless vines hung down, and upon each vine floated a divine artifact. Over a hundred such treasures gleamed gold, hanging from the vines—a truly magnificent scene.

As Zhu Qianqing appeared, all the treasures hummed in unison, as if they had awaited this moment for a thousand years. Each vied for attention, silently displaying their qualities.

Zhu Qianqing stood dazed. Golden leaves danced gracefully, brushing her cheek. Warm spiritual energy flowed unhindered into her body, gently rising above her spiritual sea. This energy stirred waves within, which gradually fused and became a mighty surge, roiling within. Above the surge, strands of spiritual energy spun upward, eventually spreading out and weaving through all her meridians. Each meridian was wrapped and entwined by these threads of energy. In moments, her meridians visibly thickened.

Sensing the unrest within her cultivation, Zhu Qianqing quickly calmed her mind, but before she could control the spiritual energy, her cultivation soared. The fourth stage of Focused Spirit. Almost uncontrollably, her realm broke through the bottleneck—from three to four.

Yet this was not the end; her cultivation continued to rise, settling only at the peak of the fourth stage. An entire rank ascended in a leap.

Zhu Qianqing’s cheeks flushed with excitement; her heart was nearly beyond words. After years of effort, she had only just managed to reach the third stage. The hardships of her path were evident. Who could have imagined that simply stepping here would let her cross years of cultivation in a moment?

“So this is the power of fortune?” she murmured. But this was only the beginning of her encounter.

Outside the wooden door, Shen Wan sat idly on the ground. He had hoped to take this chance to chat with the founding patriarch, but the elder’s cryptic ancient language left him unable to keep up. In the end, he could only sit bored, waiting for Zhu Qianqing to emerge.

Tian Xuanzi stroked his beard; he could sense the change in the young girl’s cultivation within, and nodded in satisfaction. He held high hopes for his disciples.

Beside him, Lin Bufan tugged at his sleeve, seemingly hesitant. He looked at the patriarch, and eventually, as if resolved, stepped forward and bowed deeply.

“Patriarch, I…”

Before he could speak his thoughts, Tian Xuanzi gently placed his hand atop Lin Bufan’s head.

“An exceptional immortal root, but your foundation was damaged at birth. As time passes, your foundation will collapse, and your cultivation will be lost.”

Tian Xuanzi’s tone was tinged with regret; he had noticed Lin Bufan’s defect from the start.

Lin Bufan’s pupils contracted; he looked blankly at the elder. “Damaged… foundation?” He had always thought his difficulties were due to fear of pain. He never imagined another secret lay beneath.

No wonder, when he attempted to fuse his bone and meridian, the pain was soul-rending.

“Alas!” Tian Xuanzi sighed, regret in his voice. “If my true body were present, perhaps I could repair your foundation. But with only this consciousness, I am powerless.”

Hearing this, Lin Bufan’s eyes dimmed. He opened his mouth to speak, but finally said nothing. Even the patriarch had no solution; surely there was none.

Damaged foundation? He could not understand. He had always known himself only as an orphan, eventually brought back to the sect by the elder after his travels, which gave him a place to belong. Who could have harbored such malice toward a nameless nobody? Did he have some hidden heritage?

Lin Bufan’s thoughts spiraled into a deep abyss.

He recalled the past. Eight years since entering the sect, he had surged to the fourth stage of Focused Spirit in mere months. The sect regarded him as a once-in-a-millennium genius, and he became the youngest personal disciple of the chief elder. He was the brightest star in the sect.

From inner to outer disciples, from personal to nominal, nearly everyone adored him. Even the sect leader greeted him with a benevolent smile.

He felt the admiration and envy around him, but those did not matter; he was content being the best. The pride, the sense of superiority—nothing could compare.

That same year, his cultivation soared again, reaching the peak of the fourth stage, just a step short of the fifth. Half a year in the sect, and he was on the verge of breaking through to the fifth stage—what an achievement!

Even the most prodigious talents of the Valley Mainland took a year and a half to reach the fourth stage. Yet Lin Bufan had become the top prodigy.

To showcase the sect’s strength, on the day of his breakthrough, the sect invited elders and talents from all the major sects to witness the historic moment.

Gazing at the crowd, Lin Bufan felt euphoric. He wondered if he might be the child of some great deity from beyond the realm.

He sat cross-legged, eyes shut, ready for this defining moment. Stages one to four were merely accumulation and opening of meridians; the fifth was the true integration, the melding of bone and meridian.

But when he began his attempt at the fifth stage—

The pain of mutation in bone and meridian was unbearable. On the platform, Lin Bufan’s face twisted, body convulsed, and a scream tore through the sect. His spiritual energy dissipated instantly; his eyes rolled back and he fainted. Worse, a certain area of his waist grew damp.

The entire audience was stunned—everyone was dumbfounded.

Ever since, this incident became a permanent stain upon Lin Bufan’s life. After his failed breakthrough, the elders tried everything to help him advance—elixirs, treasures, anything they could use—but nothing worked.

After years, they finally realized the problem: he was afraid of pain.

And then… nothing more.

Fallen from the pedestal, though Lin Bufan remained the chief elder’s disciple, he was ignored. Seven years passed, and he stayed at the fourth stage. Several younger disciples surpassed him, breaking into the fifth.

He had become a joke—a laughingstock of the entire sect.

Recalling this dark history, Lin Bufan was despondent, biting his lip, his heart bleak.

Seeing this, Tian Xuanzi said nothing. He simply reached out, twisting his palm toward the door, and a bottle of elixir flew out and landed in his hand.

“Actually, this is what you desire, isn’t it?”

Condensing Pill.

In Tian Xuanzi’s hand was the Condensing Pill Lin Bufan had always yearned for—the one that could let him fuse bone and meridian without the agony.

Looking at the patriarch’s hand, Lin Bufan should have been excited, but felt nothing.

Tian Xuanzi seemed to sense his thoughts, and smiled kindly. “Take it. Though your immortal root is damaged, making fusion difficult, it’s not incurable. Perhaps this Condensing Pill is your hope within despair.”

“Hope within despair…” Lin Bufan looked up. A faint light in the abyss—it was there, waiting to be grasped.

He seized the pill, his body trembling. Tian Xuanzi’s gaze was gentle; he placed his hand on Lin Bufan’s head, sending a warm current of spiritual energy into him. Lin Bufan’s agitated mind calmed, and a seedling of hope sprouted, bathed in fragile light, gradually emerging from the darkness.

His body ceased to tremble; the cloud in his eyes dispersed. He looked at the elder with determined eyes, flung aside his robe, and knelt deeply in gratitude.

“Kneeling to thank the patriarch for his guidance; I have understood!”

He bowed deeply—this, too, was a form of fortune.

With a wave of his sleeve, Lin Bufan rose and stood once more.

Tian Xuanzi looked at his young disciple with satisfaction. One had gained newfound insight, his disposition refined. Another had leapt forward, his talent outstanding. For the founding patriarch, the influx of such fresh blood was a source of pride and honor.

He smiled, nodded, and gently patted Lin Bufan’s shoulder.

Just then, something odd appeared in his peripheral vision. He turned to see Shen Wan sprawled in the corner, apparently asleep.

The sound of snoring came, punctuated by a distinct—flatulence.

“Pfft…”

Time seemed to stand still; silence reigned.

“Damn it! What a wretched fool!”