Chapter Nine: The Master Appears

"Fire Mastery" was the first spell Mo Bufan learned, and it had taken him only a single day to master it. His success rate in controlling fire had already reached fifty percent.

Watching his wife leave in a hurry, Mo Bufan sighed, then continued to amuse himself with the Fire Mastery technique.

He cared about having help, of course, but the spell before him was far more fascinating and delightful. This was not the magic of his previous life, but a true art of fire manipulation. With a recitation of the incantation and a pinch of his fingers, a small fireball would form at his whim, obedient to his thoughts.

Despite merging with the memories of his host, Mo Bufan was, at heart, still a modern man. His curiosity for things that defied common sense was irreplaceable.

Reflecting on the past ten months, Mo Bufan was satisfied with the progress his relentless effort had yielded. Although he hadn't achieved the host's ambitious plan of breaking through to the Enlightenment Realm in ten months, his results were more than enough to please him.

Most importantly, he no longer endured the idle pain of doing nothing each day. In this world of immortal cultivation, amusements were few and far between. Without the phones and computers of his previous life, his initial curiosity faded after the first month. Thankfully, he could cultivate.

Through such tireless cultivation, the spiritual energy within him grew steadily, his cultivation advanced, and each day brought a glimpse of a new world—an experience both abundant and pleasurable.

Of course, he had to admit he truly was a genius. The host's sensitivity to the world's spiritual resonance, and his command over spiritual energy, far surpassed his expectations. Had it not been for this funnel-like body, his cultivation speed might have matched his predictions.

Such talent would rank among the greatest geniuses, even by Mo Bufan’s growing understanding of the world of cultivation—his genius would be renowned across the river of time among gods and immortals.

"Good thing my cultivation speed isn't so overwhelming, or who knows how much trouble I'd stir up," Mo Bufan mused contentedly.

As he spoke, he took from his waist a bottle of enhanced "Golden Wind Jade Dew Pills," poured two or three into his palm, and swallowed them like candy.

This so-called "Golden Wind Jade Dew Pill" was, in one sense, an ordinary elixir, but in another, none would deny it as an immortal pill.

Elixirs were categorized as common pills, spiritual pills, and immortal pills. Common pills varied in quality but had no grades, spiritual pills were divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers, while immortal pills had those three tiers plus a supreme grade.

Common pills were useful for cultivators below the Mortal Shedding Realm, as their bodies had not yet shed their mortal nature. Spiritual pills were effective for those below the True Immortal Realm, and immortal pills were for those above it.

The Golden Wind Jade Dew Pill could be considered a spiritual pill, as the difference between spiritual and immortal pills lay in the traces of the world's resonance they contained. But as it had everything except for the resonance, it could easily be called an immortal pill.

Its effects were extraordinary—not quite capable of raising the dead, but as long as there was a breath left, it could swiftly heal its master's wounds.

Yet Mo Bufan’s constitution was remarkably peculiar. The pill’s medicinal power was one thing, but his unique Nine Suns Body was another; it was not something a couple of pills could repair.

Thus, Mo Bufan had taken these pills like candy for ten months, and only then had he reached his current cultivation.

Mo Bufan reclined against a stone, idly playing with a fireball in one hand and fiddling with the bottle of enhanced Golden Wind Jade Dew Pills in the other, gazing at the sky and thinking to himself, "It seems I’ll have time to learn more spells in the future… these things are truly irresistible."

...

Tianmu Mountain, wreathed in immortal mist and enduring Dao resonance, was a daily scene of clouds rising like brocade.

Between its eighteen main peaks lay numerous lesser ones, home to the abodes of the core disciples at the pinnacle of their ranks.

These lesser peaks were also the battlegrounds for the fiercest competition among Tianmu Mountain's core disciples.

As Mo Bufan had suspected, the competition in the cultivation world was no less intense than he imagined—perhaps even more so, though the rules were stricter and the standards of conduct higher. But the rivalry was only more intense.

Among all these peaks, only one stood exempt from competition: Tianyu Peak, which ranked just below the eighteen main peaks.

For this peak was the residence of the foremost blue-robed disciple, or rather, the number one Earth Immortal of the Eastern Divine Continent, Ge Qingyang.

Although Ge Qingyang was technically only a core disciple of the Celestial Profound Sect, his reputation and standing rivaled any elder's. Indeed, two elders were his personal disciples.

He had apprenticed under the sect’s Grand Elder—the previous sect master—and was the Grand Elder’s foremost disciple. Yet, as his cultivation lagged behind his junior brothers and sisters, he requested that his rank among the disciples be lowered. Though no longer counted among the Grand Elder’s official disciples, every disciple still called him Senior Brother, even Sect Master Song Yu.

Rumor had it that Ge Qingyang could have advanced to the True Immortal Realm, but he chose not to, forcibly suppressing his cultivation.

In his day, he had taken four disciples; two advanced to the True Immortal Realm but still could not best him. After defeating them, he uttered a phrase that echoed through the Celestial Profound Sect: "In cultivation, the most important thing is not the height of one's realm, but whether you have truly comprehended it."

Now, this legendary Earth Immortal stood respectfully beside a white crane before an old man. The white crane was one of the two from Mo Bufan’s small courtyard, and the old man’s identity was obvious.

The crane was earnestly recounting Mo Bufan’s experiences over the past year, leaving nothing out.

The old man listened intently, occasionally pursing his lips or nodding.

This trio—two men and a crane—had been at it for over an hour, but the crane was enthusiastic, and the men attentive, never feeling bored.

After another incense stick’s time, the crane finished its tale and stood quietly, watching the old man.

Ge Qingyang’s brows furrowed slightly, as if pondering something.

The old man took a while before opening his eyes. Instead of speaking to the crane, he turned to Ge Qingyang and asked, "Qingyang, did your junior sister really come to ask you to guide that youngster?"

Ge Qingyang bowed and replied, "Yes."

"Heh…" The old man chuckled, then clapped his hands. "Very good, very good. Since your junior sister asked, you must give it your all."

Ge Qingyang’s heart trembled. This was no simple request.

Everyone knew the status of their junior sister in the sect, especially in their master’s heart. Unlike the others, who were taken in after attaining some cultivation, their junior sister had been raised with painstaking care by the old man and his disciples.

To say the old man and the junior sister were like father and daughter was more accurate. A father’s love for his daughter was beyond words. No matter how useful a son-in-law might be, he could never outweigh his daughter’s happiness. The old man’s request to help Mo Bufan wholeheartedly marked his initial acceptance of this son-in-law.

But only initial acceptance. With his temperament, should he find Mo Bufan unworthy, he could crush him at any moment.

Who could say if this was a blessing or a curse for Mo Bufan?

Ge Qingyang smiled and bowed, "Rest assured, Master, I will do my utmost."

The old man rose, stretched, and said to the crane, "Come, accompany this old man to meet my little disciple’s husband."

He lightly landed on the crane’s back, about to depart, but suddenly turned to Ge Qingyang, "Qingyang, when do you plan to break through?"

Ge Qingyang was taken aback, then bowed his head, "I do not know, Master, only that the time has not come."

The old man smiled, nodding, "You’ve been at this realm for over a thousand years, haven’t you? I remember you reached it before Song Yu."

Song Yu was the current head of the Celestial Profound Sect and the foremost True Immortal in the sect.

"Yes…" A trace of guilt flickered across Ge Qingyang’s face, but stubborn resolve prevailed. "I am sorry for failing your guidance, Master, but I—"

The old man waved him off, "Silly boy, you need not explain. Follow your path as you see fit. I have never thought your way was wrong, and I have always supported you."

"Thank you, Master," Ge Qingyang bowed. When he looked up, his master had already departed, prompting a soft sigh.

In the distance, the old man glanced back at Ge Qingyang from atop the crane and murmured, "Silly boy, in my heart you have always been the number one in the Celestial Profound Sect, and surely you will be the one among all your brothers to go furthest…"