## A Fragment of Immortality: Chapter One

The day’s first boon arrived with the dawn!

—

Having gathered a bounty of mountain spring water, our protagonist, Wang Lin, retreated to his humble chamber. There, he began the careful alchemical process of crafting spiritual spring water. As night descended, he secured his door, not with mere latch and bolt, but with a length of stout rope. One end he tied to the handle, the other firmly to his arm, ensuring any unwelcome intrusion would rouse him from slumber.

He drank deeply of the spring’s gift, feeling the familiar surge of heat coursing through his veins. Grasping the enigmatic bead, Wang Lin once more plunged into the ethereal dreamscape.

Within the boundless dream, Wang Lin sat in serene meditation. A multitude of luminous orbs surrounded him, each emanating a soft, ethereal light. As he closed his eyes, concentrating on his inner energies, these gentle beams touched him, dissolving into motes of pure light that seeped silently into his being, unnoticed by the dreamer.

A day within the dream slipped by swiftly, and the spiritual energy born from the spring began to wane. Yet, this time, a palpable difference resonated within Wang Lin. In the past, the warmth instilled by medicinal concoctions would eventually fade entirely.

This was not so now. Though dissipation was inevitable, a residue of the spring’s power lingered, faint yet undeniable. This small victory filled Wang Lin with renewed hope. After much contemplation, unable to unravel the mystery, he attributed the change to the power of the strange beads.

Unable to leave the dream at will, nor to replenish his supply of spring water, Wang Lin turned his mind to the very air he breathed. He discovered a crucial distinction between the dream and the waking world. In reality, even though the faint stirrings of spiritual energy remained imperceptible to his senses, diligent meditation brought a sense of revitalization.

Here, however, once the spring water’s influence faded, each breath offered no succor. Instead, prolonged meditation led only to shortness of breath and a constricting pressure in his chest.

After a time of profound thought, a theory began to solidify in Wang Lin’s mind. It was possible that all this was linked to spiritual energy itself! The dream space, perhaps, was devoid of it!

The more he considered, the more convinced he became. Frowning, he muttered to himself, “If only I could bring the spring water here!” At this thought, a flicker of inspiration ignited within him. He glanced down at his form, a puzzled expression etched upon his face.

He was clad in the crimson robes of an inner disciple. A mystery! Hastily, he reached for the pouch that should have been secured within his robes, only to find emptiness. His storage bag was gone!

“Clothing can manifest within the dream, but the storage bag cannot…” He pondered this perplexing riddle. He resolved to experiment upon his return, to discern which items could cross the veil between worlds, and which were forever bound to the waking realm.

Time flowed like water, and after fifty hours, the familiar sensation of being torn asunder returned, and Wang Lin awoke, gasping, in his meager dwelling.

Another question plagued his thoughts: Why could he endure only five hours within the dream at a time? Gripped by these uncertainties, he poured spring water into his gourd, secured it to his person, and prepared to return to the dream.

But this time, no matter how intently he gazed upon the bead, slumber refused to claim him. Shock turned to careful contemplation. He quelled his rising anxieties, closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing.

Gradually, his breath steadied, and the subtle spiritual energy of the world began to flow into him. While much of it dissipated, a small portion lingered, a nascent foundation upon which to build. However, the path to the first layer of Qi Condensation remained long and arduous.

He spent the entire day in this practice, frequently replenishing his inner reserves with sips from his gourd, maintaining a balance of spiritual energy within and without.

Again and again, he attempted to re-enter the dream by fixating on the stone bead, but each attempt ended in failure.

As night approached, he opened his eyes, and a faint tingle of spiritual energy pulsed within him. Ordinarily, this would have filled him with elation, but now, a sense of unease gnawed at him. He picked up the bead and stared once more. This time, a wave of sleepiness washed over him. Joy flickered across his face, but he quickly averted his gaze. The drowsiness receded.

He rose, stroking his chin in thought. He meticulously reviewed his previous four journeys into the dream, and a pattern began to emerge.

His first two entries had been consecutive. The third had followed a five-hour observation of the oil lamp, while the fourth occurred after a day of wakefulness.

From these observations, he surmised that limitations governed his ability to enter the dream. It seemed a waiting period of at least five hours was required to ensure safe passage.

Having unraveled this mystery, Wang Lin turned his attention to the matter of which items could be brought into the dream. He prepared meticulously for this endeavor. First, he gathered three gourds: one still containing the morning dew, another empty, and the last filled with the precious spring water.

Fragments of a broken stone bowl were stuffed into his robes. Alongside these, he took sweet potatoes, clothes, and other mundane items from his meager belongings, wrapping them about himself. Then, he gazed upon the bead and plunged once more into the depths of the dream.

Within the dream, Wang Lin swiftly examined himself. Sweet potatoes, clothes, and fragments of the stone bowl were all present, but the storage bag and only three gourds were missing.

He was confused until he was struck by a sudden insight. There was no spiritual energy within the dream space. This sparked an epiphany: All the items he had successfully brought into the dream were ordinary, devoid of spiritual power.

The three missing gourds and the storage bag all contained spiritual energy; therefore, they could not cross the boundary.

A sigh escaped his lips. He was disheartened. Without the ability to bring the gourd into the dream, he would be limited to a few meager sips of spring water before entering, an insufficient amount to fuel his training.

Suddenly, a vital thought flickered in his mind, then receded, leaving him with a frustrating sense of something important just beyond his grasp. He pondered, racked his brain, and meticulously retraced his thoughts.

Finally, after a long moment, joy blossomed upon his face. He focused on the key to the problem: The spring water, brimming with spiritual energy, could not be brought into the dream. But after drinking it, the spiritual essence did not simply vanish.

In other words, the rule was not absolute. If he could find a way, perhaps he could bring the spiritual spring water with him!

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After the allotted fifty hours, Wang Lin ventured out of his chamber and onto the mountain path. He gathered several wild gourds and returned with haste.

He believed the reason the previous gourds had been denied entry was because they had been infused with dew over time, causing them to absorb a trace of spiritual energy.

Now, he would use newly picked gourds to hold the spiritual spring water, hoping to fool the dream and bring it with him.

Five hours later, with four new gourds hanging about his person, Wang Lin once again entered the dream. The moment he arrived, he checked his body, and a wave of exhilaration washed over him. All the gourds were present!

He opened one and saw that the spring water within had not vanished! He took a sip, and the familiar surge of spiritual energy coursed through him. Without hesitation, Wang Lin drank deeply, then settled into a cross-legged position, focusing his mind and beginning his training in earnest.

Each time the spiritual energy within him began to wane, he would replenish it with sips of spring water. Gradually, a faint trace of spiritual power began to accumulate within him, slowly altering his constitution and drawing him ever closer to the first layer of Qi Condensation.

The luminous orbs around him once more dissolved into motes of light, silently penetrating his being.

With Wang Lin’s inherent talent, the path to the first layer of Qi Condensation would be long and arduous, perhaps spanning years, even with access to the Spirit Transformation Grass. Without it, the task might prove impossible within his lifespan.

Sun Dazhu’s month-long regimen of medicinal soups had shortened this process. Then, Wang Lin’s accidental dissipation of his accumulated skill, coupled with the removal of the Spirit-Cultivation Grass, had set him back, leaving him with perhaps ten years of practice ahead. But now, with no shortage of spiritual energy and access to the dream space, which amplified time tenfold, the first level of Qi Condensation was finally within reach.

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