The moon hung low over the western mountains, cups and plates scattered. Li Changshou stood before the pill chamber, watching where Jiu Wu had gone, the smile fading from his face — that senior uncle was, for now, steadied.
Ever since that day in the Northern Continent when Jiu Wu had given him that long, meaningful look, Li Changshou had known this meticulous little Taoist had taken an interest in him. Plus the months spent near Senior Aunt Jiu Jiu, and that curiosity could only have deepened. Curiosity hardens easily into suspicion, a seed of danger. How to remove it? Kill him — ha, a joke. He bore Jiu Wu no grudge; the man was formidable, and any harm to the Nine Wine Immortals would shake the mountain. Ambushing him would be begging for death.
The surest course had been to invite him over and speak plainly: swear he would do nothing to harm the sect, and reveal a portion of his hidden cultivation, so the senior uncle felt he had seen through his nephew's bottom card. Then Jiu Wu would stop minding him and even gain goodwill — turning a crisis into an opportunity.
Li Changshou revisited the talk like a slow-motion film, certain he had leaked nothing. A light pink figure drifted into his vision: it was Ling'e, riding a white cloud, shallow-pink dress echoing the blossoms. She landed with an empty bamboo basket, her face fresh and comely. "Senior Brother, did you manage to handle that senior uncle?"
"Barely. Only a small aftermath of the Northern Continent trip. Once I stop going out and stirring things up, this sort of senior won't notice me again."
Blue Ling'e blinked. "How did you do it? Did you show Senior Uncle Jiu Wu the cultivation you've been hiding?"
He glared and sent a helpless voice-transmission. "I revealed a part of it; otherwise it wouldn't have worked. Haven't I told you time and again not to say such things aloud? Walls have ears and winds carry immortal perception. Not once in these ten years have you grasped half of what I've taught you. Some sharp-eared fellow may be listening in right now."
"Oh," she pouted. "I didn't mean to. I'm just worried. I'll go clean the dishes now..."
She took two steps, then turned back, resting a hand on his shoulder and breathing by his ear: "Senior Brother, what rank have you actually reached? Have you caught up with the master? Are you about to become an immortal too?"
"You guess," he said, glancing at her. Humming a tune with his hands behind his back, he strolled off past the little tower. Blue Ling'e made a face and went to tidy the dishes.
Meanwhile, on the white cloud returning to Potian Peak: "This liquor packs quite a punch. The Ganges River Old White Liquor, after all." Jiu Wu's cheeks were flushed as he swayed, yet his eyes stayed clear — he had used an art to keep his primordial spirit unclouded.
As Potian Peak drew near, Jiu Wu chuckled. That junior nephew Changshou was actually at Return-to-Void fifth rank — near the very best of the current disciples! To reach such a realm in barely a hundred years was a supremely talented feat. Best of all was his temperament, a bright moon against the muck of such people as Yuan Qing. "He does not say it, but how could I fail to deduce why he hides his cultivation? He does not want his too-small Xiaoqiong Peak to face more storms, nor Junior Brother Qi Yuan to have added trouble. A fine disciple. If Qi Yuan fails his tribulation, I will invite the Senior Senior Brother to bring both onto Potian Peak."
Potian Peak was before him. His junior sister's pavilion had its protective formation up, so she must have retired: "Later I'll have Junior Sister bring scriptures to Changshou, and I'll seek the Merit-Transmission Elder for a talk — a seedling like this needn't wait for the Immortal realm to begin the Scripture of Non-Action. Qi Yuan has taken in a fine disciple." He entered his pavilion, closed the formation, and sat in meditation.
...
Two more days passed, and Li Changshou at last confirmed the senior uncle had done nothing out of the ordinary; his cultivation life returned to its century of calm. The whole storm had blown up over two stalks of Immortal-Resolution Grass; now the Immortal-Dissolving Pill was refined, the disturbance settled.
That afternoon he wrapped one Immortal-Dissolving Pill in a special sugar coating — the first plan nearly complete. He divided the eleven surplus pills into three portions. Few refined this thing, yet it was a treasure for those with no hope of becoming immortals, a way to dodge the tribulation and stretch out their years; he could sell a few at a market town, and keep two in reserve. He had some eighty percent confidence of weathering the tribulation, while his junior sister's odds at the Immortal realm stood above sixty. One extra pill guaranteed that even if the tribulation went mad, he could live; setting one aside for his sister copied the master's plan for old age. This was all he could do.
Gazing at the pill he fell into thought. What if the master could not even survive the first thunder tribulation — he would be ashes. "The first plan, though complete, I'd better run Plans Two and Three in parallel. And if the master abruptly achieves enlightenment, nothing could be better." He sighed, tucked the pill into his sleeve, and walked out.
Half an hour later he stood before the master's retreat, cleared his throat, made a bow, and called: "Master! Your disciple has a few doubts to consult! I am deeply ashamed to disturb your secluded practice!"
The wooden door soon opened; the old Taoist Qi Yuan waved warmly. "Come, let us go to the lakeshore. In recent years I too have been remiss in teaching you."
Li Changshou sighed inwardly — the door had opened so quickly that the master clearly had not been meditating. Could he no longer settle into stillness? The tribulation was at hand.
At the lakeshore under the willows, Qi Yuan laid down two rush cushions and sat facing him. "Ask whatever doubts you have," he said gently, then his gaze dimmed. "If I cannot pass this tribulation, I fear I shall have no chance to teach you like this again."
"Do not say such things, Master," Li Changshou smiled. "You will surely pass. Have you not often said that without confidence, how could one face the trials the Great Dao sets upon us?"
"You, with your timid, death-fearing nature, lecturing me!" Qi Yuan pulled a stern face and scolded him; Li Changshou narrowed his eyes in a smile and steered to the heart of the matter.
The first three questions were fairly ordinary — common Return-to-Void doubts, and Qi Yuan answered them in detail. At the fourth, Li Changshou asked how one should understand "The spirit returns to its spirit, the qi returns to its qi, the five energies begin anew, and the whole cycle flows as one pleases." Qi Yuan was brought up short and pondered silently. Li Changshou pressed on with three more questions so clearly "beyond the syllabus" that Qi Yuan could not answer them either.
He had not meant to embarrass his master, only to hint that if he hit a bottleneck, he could seek forward along these avenues. Qi Yuan, believing his chance thin, wanted to teach his disciple as much as he could, and so he weighed his own understanding, not daring to mislead, until gradually he sank into deep thought.
Before long Qi Yuan closed his eyes and gathered his spirit, and petals began to drift around him — the sign of one about to cross the tribulation falling into meditation, though faint and incomplete. Li Changshou carefully laid a soundproof barrier around his master, then turned to work before the grass hut.
This was the heart of Plan Two — to raise the master's strength and deepen his grasp of the Great Dao. "Ah, if only I could lend him a fraction of those sudden enlightenments that come to me." He began the supplement, and to everyone's surprise produced the prize pouch marked "Xuan Thirty-Two," drew out lengths of purple wood and six rods of iridescent metal, and set to tinkering.
[Thunderfall Wood]: A common treasure material for thunder formations; it can guide the power of thunder.
[Thunder-Storing Seven-Spirit Iron]: A common treasure material for thunder formations; it can store and disperse the power of thunder.
From what Li Changshou knew, most of a tribulation's harm to a cultivator came from the thunder, a lesser part from the Great Dao's assault. A "secondary-conduction lightning needle" drawing a large share of the thunder out from the struck body might raise the odds and not swell the tribulation in retaliation. If there was a way, it was worth a try.