The second bell tolled this day, a promise of more to come, for the shadows stirred, and the plague of discontent festered still.

—

Wang Lin emerged from the Master’s garden, his lips pressed tight. The crimson robes of an Inner Disciple, freshly bestowed, drew gazes from the outer disciples who toiled within the yard’s confines. Envy flared, bright and hot, but as they recognized the wearer, their expressions twisted, curdling into a venomous brew of jealousy and disdain.

“Yesterday, the Sect Lord himself proclaimed him an Inner Disciple! He who was a mere outer disciple, only brought in after an attempt on his own life! By what dark pact did he ascend so quickly? Fortune smiles upon the unworthy,” one spat, low enough for only his fellows to hear.

“Think you it not obvious? He likely groveled at the feet of the Elders, performing deeds best left unspoken, to win their favor. Such a craven act!”

“Aye, look at his vacant stare, his clumsy gait. Even clad in crimson, the Immortal Path will remain forever barred to him!”

“Let not this refuse trouble you. Though elevated by trickery, a dog remains a dog. He will find only scorn, wherever he treads.”

“Bah! Four years I have labored, toiling as a menial, and never have I witnessed such brazen injustice! What has the world become, that an Elder would stoop to such a choice? Am I not more deserving? My very soul burns with resentment!”

“Four years? I have served twelve, each step forward purchased with sweat and hardship. He leaps ahead, untouched by trial. But Inner Disciples are known to… test each other’s mettle. Let us await the spectacle!”

The murmurs swirled, a tide of malice that washed over Wang Lin. He met their venom with a glacial stare, each face etched in his memory. He was not yet strong enough to silence them, but the day would come when their taunts would be repaid tenfold.

He reached the East Gate and followed the winding path to the mountain spring. He cupped the icy water and splashed it upon his face, the shock banishing the sting of their words. He drank deeply, then settled beside the spring to gather his thoughts.

Hidden in the branches of a gnarled oak, Elder Sun frowned, muttering, “Laddie, I claimed I sought the gourd, but truth be told, I’m hunting for the truth. I wanted to know what your game actually is.”

Wang Lin had left the Master’s garden, and Sun had shadowed him, eager to witness the boy’s search. Instead, Wang Lin had merely sat by the spring, lost in meditation.

This place possessed a faint whisper of spiritual energy, a far cry from the potent aura of the Herb Garden. Yet, Wang Lin reasoned, the Qi Condensation stage was, at its heart, a matter of accumulation. He might lack natural talent, but he could compensate with unwavering diligence. Time and repetition could fill the void.

His intuition was true. The Qi Condensation phase was the foundation, a slow infusion of spiritual essence that reshaped the body, preparing it for the rigors of Foundation Building.

He sat until the midday sun beat down. Finally, Wang Lin stretched his limbs. The familiar crawling sensation remained absent. He scanned the area, suspecting Sun Dazhu lurked nearby, a silent warden.

He patted his empty stomach and sauntered back towards the sect. Sun Dazhu, hidden above, seethed. “Bah! A whole morning wasted! Fine, pup, I’ll spend months trying to figure out your little ploy. You wouldn’t do something for nothing, and I do not believe you are only interested in the gourd.”

With a rustle of leaves, he vanished, reappearing within the Herb Garden even before Wang Lin.

A short while later, Wang Lin returned at a leisurely pace. Sun Dazhu stroked his chin, a false smile plastered on his face. “Disciple, did your search prove fruitful this morn?”

Wang Lin sighed, shaking his head. “Master, I waited by the spring all morning, but no gourds appeared. I’ll try again this afternoon. Perhaps fortune will favor me then.”

Sun Dazhu scoffed inwardly, *You spent the whole morning in meditation. You wouldn’t have seen a gourd even if it smacked you in the face!* But aloud, he said, “Very well, Wang Lin. Break your fast, then resume your search.”

Wang Lin muttered an assent and retreated to his chamber. A table laden with four dishes and a steaming soup greeted him. He didn’t question its arrival. He fell upon the food with ravenous hunger, devouring every morsel, then drained the soup to the last drop. He patted his stomach and collapsed upon his bed.

Sun Dazhu materialized like a phantom, his face etched with darkness, his eyes gleaming with cruel intent. He whispered, “I dare not poison your meals outright, lest the Sect take notice. But I can subtly ‘enhance’ your food. You were mediocre enough to begin with, with my little boost you won’t get past the third level of Qi Condensation in this lifetime. In this way, you will always be where I need you.”

An hour later, Wang Lin stirred. He straightened his robes, left his chamber, and returned to the mountain spring, resuming his meditation. Time drifted by, until the sun began its descent. He stood, paced restlessly, and then, without a word, plunged into the dense forest.

Sun Dazhu, perched in his tree, snapped to attention and gave chase, moving like a shadow.

Wang Lin meandered through the woods, his gaze sweeping left and right. Suddenly, his face brightened. He approached a climbing vine, heavy with wild gourds. He plucked a small, promising specimen, examined it closely, and then hurried away.

Sun Dazhu, consumed by curiosity, emerged from the shadows. He scrutinized the remaining gourds, his brow furrowed. He picked one in confused thought, noting this place, then followed after.

After a time, Wang Lin returned to the Herb Garden. He had filtered out the mutters of his fellow disciples, the words no longer stung so much. As he entered the garden, he found Sun Dazhu staring at him with a simmering fury.

Wang Lin immediately adopted a posture of humble respect, presenting the gourd. “Master, I was fortunate this afternoon. Though no gourds floated down the spring, I stumbled upon these as I walked about the woods. See this one? I believe it bears a striking resemblance to the one I lost.”

Sun Dazhu nearly lost control. Suppressing his rage, he forced a rigid smile. He snatched the gourd, tossed it aside without a glance, and spat, “The gourd I seek is filled with spiritual energy, like the one you once possessed! This wild mockery is worthless!”

His voice cracked, betraying his frustration. He had been outmaneuvered. A day wasted in surveillance, and in the end, he had been tricked into fetching worthless wild gourds.