## The Gourd’s Secret

This day brought unexpected fortune – a coveted recommendation from the Scribes of Qidian!

–––––

He fumed, recalling the blasted gourds. He’d studied them for weeks, each one appearing utterly mundane. He’d even gutted them, replacing the seeds with spring water, only to be mocked by his esteemed Senior Brother along the way.

Wang Lin sneered inwardly, but aloud, feigned ignorance. “I know naught of ‘spiritual energy,’ Master. You promised a spirit stone should I find such a gourd. Pray tell, what *is* this ‘spiritual energy’ you speak of?”

Sun Dazhu’s head swam. He scrutinized Wang Lin, a seed of doubt taking root. Could the boy have stumbled upon a single gourd brimming with the essence of the heavens, purely by chance?

Reason asserted itself. Wang Lin’s words held truth. Only one who had achieved the first stratum of Qi Condensation could perceive the world’s spiritual currents. Regret gnawed at Sun Dazhu as he recalled the herbs slipped into the boy’s meals, herbs designed to *hinder* cultivation. He now believed Wang Lin’s aptitude was simply poor. Achieving the first level was a monumental task, and those hindering herbs could add decades to the struggle.

A sigh escaped his lips, laced with disappointment. Sun Dazhu hesitated, then retrieved a low-grade spirit stone from his storage pouch. He tossed it to Wang Lin. “Here is the promised reward. Take it, cultivate diligently, and strive for Qi Condensation’s first bloom.”

Wang Lin snatched it, showering his master with thanks before retreating to his humble chamber.

Sun Dazhu stood there, lost in thought. “One cannot both cherish the child and ensnare the wolf,” he muttered. “The final test remains.” He resolved to hasten Wang Lin’s ascent to that first level. Even if it meant sacrificing a degree of his own hard-won cultivation, he would sooner do that than violate the laws of Heaven and Earth by subjecting a mortal to Soul Searching. Such a vile technique was forbidden for cultivators against mortals until the Elixir Formation stage.

Soul Searching, though a simple spell, was brutally invasive. Its victim was left with a shattered soul – at best, a mindless husk.

These dire consequences were precisely why such restrictions existed. Use against a mortal before reaching the Elixir stage would invoke the wrath of the heavens.

Against a fellow cultivator, no such limitations applied, but its use was restricted to a meager three times in a lifetime, each instance draining the user’s power.

Wang Lin sat cross-legged in his room, examining the fairy stone. It appeared unremarkable, yet holding it brought a clarity to his mind. He closed his eyes and commenced breathing exercises.

Night yielded to day, and Wang Lin sighed. No trace of spiritual energy had graced his body. He offered a wry smile. Just then, his door creaked open. Sun Dazhu, face grim, entered, bearing a bowl of viscous, black liquid.

“Drink!”

Wang Lin blinked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He hesitated, not reaching for the bowl. “Master, what is this?”

Sun Dazhu’s patience snapped. “Do you think I would poison you? Drink it! Were it not for my burning desire to see you reach the first stage of Qi Condensation, do you think I would waste precious hours and even more precious ingredients to brew this potion?”

Wang Lin wavered, seeing the storm brewing on his master’s face. He grasped the stone bowl and, with a deep breath, drained its contents.

A searing heat erupted in his stomach, spreading like wildfire through his limbs. His mouth felt parched, his tongue thick, as if he had swallowed molten fire.

His vision blurred, and the bowl slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor. Drowsiness threatened to engulf him.

“Breathe! Focus your breath! I will aid your absorption!” Sun Dazhu reluctantly placed his hand upon Wang Lin’s chest.

A wave of coolness washed over him, and clarity returned. Wang Lin began breathing without hesitation. Sun Dazhu stared with aching eyes at the shards of the bowl. He gritted his teeth, retrieving several low-grade spirit stones from his pouch and placing them around Wang Lin. “Boy,” he thought, “I’ve invested a king’s ransom in you. You’ll repay me in the days to come!”

Moments later, a faint tickling sensation stirred within. Sun Dazhu could feel the subtle currents of herbal essence coalescing within the boy. A smile bloomed on his face.

But then, a foul, turbid air erupted from Wang Lin, swiftly dissolving the nascent spiritual energy, crushing any hope of success.

Sun Dazhu’s face twisted with dismay. He recognized the source of the impurity – the hindering herbs he had administered the previous day. He repeated the process again and again, until the last vestiges of the herbal essence had faded, leaving no trace of spiritual condensation.

He sighed, withdrawing his hand. He stared at Wang Lin, his emotions a tangled mess.

Wang Lin opened his eyes, feeling light and invigorated. He opened his mouth to offer thanks, but Sun Dazhu, face contorted with frustration, abruptly turned and fled the room.

Wang Lin stood bewildered, unable to decipher his master’s actions. He stretched his limbs, stepped out of the room, and softly called towards Sun Dazhu’s chamber, “Master, I shall venture to the mountain spring, hoping for better fortune today.”

Sun Dazhu remained silent, but the garden gate opened silently. Wang Lin quickly departed. As soon as he left, Sun Dazhu trailed him, unable to resist one last surveillance.

A month flew by. Each day, Wang Lin visited the mountain spring to meditate. Each day, Sun Dazhu secretly observed. With each passing day of disappointment, Sun Dazhu’s spirit withered.

Each day, he prepared herbal tonics for Wang Lin, but the spiritual energy refused to coalesce. Sun Dazhu’s temper flared with increasing frequency.

What was worse, the spiritual energy within the original gourd dwindled, disappearing completely within a month. The water within became as ordinary as spring water, devoid of any special essence.

The gourd, once a vessel of potent power, was now no different from a common wild gourd. Sun Dazhu felt a pang of despair. After careful contemplation, he arrived at a hypothesis. The gourd itself held no inherent power, but had undergone a unique transformation that imbued it with potent spiritual energy. Wang Lin, he concluded, had stumbled upon it by chance. He doubted the boy possessed any others.

The more he pondered, the more convinced he became. His heart ached. He’d achieved nothing in the past month, only wasted time on surveillance and brewing useless medicine. In a fit of pique, he summoned Wang Lin, berated him soundly, and finally, with a dramatic flourish, banished him from the main courtyard.

The sight of Wang Lin now only fueled his anger. Soon, he forgot about the boy, dismissing him entirely.

In his estimation, even with the month of herbal tonics, Wang Lin would struggle for a decade or more to achieve Qi Condensation’s first level. Only if he steeled himself, and continued to aid this disciple, regardless of the cost in precious herbs, would there be any hope.