[Spirit Wander ranking: ninety-seventh.]
This was Jiang Chen's final standing in the matchmaking battles of the Grand Illusionary Realm's Spirit Wanderer realm. He had charged into the top hundred.
In those last few battles, he had won each time by a hair, gravely wounded in every one — were he to try again, he could not be certain of repeating the feat.
Jiang Chen understood; this was his limit, at present.
Beneath that line of information there followed a single line of small print: for those ranked one hundred through fifty, the reward of ten Dao merits was granted for every day the standing was maintained.
But that no longer concerned Jiang Chen. He had resolved to storm the Zhou Heavenly realm that very day.
To be sure, there was still potential for him to mine within the Spirit Wanderer realm — he might make use of the Discursive Dao Platform and the two thousand, eight hundred Dao merits he still had in hand to deduce, within his current stage, the more powerful Dao arts to come into his grasp. He might await the great completion of the Four-Spirit Body Refining Art.
But compared with true cultivation itself, all these were but branches and twigs.
Zhen Wudi's mastery of so many Dao arts came not from boundless energy, and certainly not from being stranded within the Spirit Wanderer realm, unable to advance. It was that he was truly prodigiously gifted — most Dao arts, he mastered on the first try and comprehended on the second, without ever needing to spend too much effort.
Yet even a genius such as he never ceased to polish his minor Zhou Heavenly circulation, ever pondering what shape of a minor Three Energies structure best suited him. All this Jiang Chen had learned in passing during their idle talks.
But for Jiang Chen, the minor Zhou Heavenly circulation was a matter that came to completion of its own accord.
Like that Flamebloom — the seed sprouted, blossomed, all of it natural.
He felt more and more the greatness of life.
...
Jiang Chen sat upright, legs crossed, his mind sunk deep in the Celestial Palace.
His frantic, unbroken matchmaking within the Grand Illusionary Realm had served to discover the extreme he could reach before breaking through. And now that the minor Zhou Heavenly circulation had come naturally to fulfillment, he chose to follow the current downstream. He did not force the invincibility of the Spirit Wanderer realm.
The two Star River Dao Vortexes Jiang Chen had built were the Solar Vortex and the Lunar Vortex.
And now the third Dao Vortex — naturally enough — was the Star, returning to the river of stars and the cosmos.
The first Dao Vortex was the Sun. The Starfield Array, rising from the Solar Star. The sun rose, and heaven and earth were made bright.
The second Dao Vortex was the Moon. The Lunar Star lay intertwined with nearly everything that was his. Only the bright moon could illumine the heart.
The third Dao Vortex was the Star — for both sun and moon dwelled within the river of stars.
Sun, moon, and stars spanned the celestial bodies, and marked the infinitude of the cosmos.
When the final grain of Dao essence slipped into place, the array diagram of the Starfield lit up once more, and the star spiral settled into being.
Upon the dome of the Celestial Palace, the Three Energies of sun, moon, and star turned in rotation, resplendent beyond compare.
And so the minor Zhou Heavenly circulation was completed.
The radiance of sun, moon, and star interweaved, illumining the Celestial Palace to its depths.
Jiang Chen could sense it clearly: the Celestial Palace had "expanded."
This was not merely a matter of space.
He could now engrave one Dao art, one he had long since mastered to the marrow, upon the dome — fixing his first instant-cast Dao art.
That Dao art, of course, could only be the Flamebloom.
On the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month, fourteenth year of the Yongtai reign, Jiang Chen established his third Dao Vortex, completed the minor Zhou Heavenly cycle, and formally stepped into the Zhou Heavenly realm.
He engraved his instant-cast Dao art: the Flamebloom.
From opening his cultivation meridians to laying his foundation, he had spent four full months. And yet from the Spirit Wanderer realm to the Zhou Heavenly realm, he had needed only two months. This was the return upon the choices he had made before laying his foundation.
Today's fruit is yesterday's seed.
...
With a creak, the courtyard gate was pushed open.
Wang Yuan gave a helpless sigh. "Why are you back again? Is cultivation at the prefecture academy really so easy?"
Even as he spoke, he turned his head from his reclining chair — and saw the old man walking into the courtyard.
All expression drained from his face, and he pressed his lips together.
The fat orange cat lay sprawled across his belly, lazily licking at its paws.
The old man's spirits were high, his stride steady and strong.
He snorted through his nose. "Well now, is the sight of your own father so unwelcome that you can't even offer a greeting?"
"Father." Wang Yuan called out the word with the barest, flattest courtesy.
The manner of it displeased the old man all the more, and he snorted again. "Idling away your days playing with a stray cat and reading idle books — you've no mind for anything worthwhile!"
Wang Yuan did not even bother to argue that Xiao Ju was no stray. He only stroked the cat's fat head in silence.
The old man clasped his hands behind his back, took two steps, and only then gave his order. "The counting house has come up short a steward of late. You've read enough books, at any rate. Go and glean some experience there."
"No."
"Why not?" The old man's brows knitted together. "Are you, Wang Yuan, worthier than other men — too pure to touch the affairs of the mundane?"
"Your son's nature is cold and thin; there is nothing I would do well, and no heart for doing anything at all. Please, Father, take yourself home."
"Who are you shooing away? The food you eat, the things you use, the clothes you wear, this roof over your head — which of it is not mine?"
"Then I'll move out." Wang Yuan rose from the reclining chair and, hugging the orange cat, made for the door.
He gathered nothing, packed nothing, wanted nothing.
"Stand there!" The old man's beard bristled with rage as he jabbed a finger at his son's forehead. "Are you set on infuriating your father to death?"
Wang Yuan took a small step back, letting the old man's finger fall away from his brow. In a flat voice he said, "I don't understand. I read my books, I play with my cat. I grow my vegetables, I cook my meals. Whom do I inconvenience? And what are you so angry about?"
"You are the son of this Wang Lianshan, and I will not have you wasting away as a useless good-for-nothing!"
"Waste? Ha, waste..." Wang Yuan lowered his head and scratched at the fat cat in his arms. "Look at you, you good-for-nothing."
In truth, father and son were strikingly alike about the eyes and brow, and setting aside the thread of their talk, the mere image of the two alone in the courtyard was unexpectedly harmonious. It was only that, against the anger glowing in Wang Lianshan's gaze, Wang Yuan's own eyes were a shade too composed.
Wang Lianshan reined in his temper and said, somewhat stiffly, "Your younger brother is gifted; he is a seed for cultivation. Since you cannot cultivate, take up the family's mundane affairs. I, too, am growing old..."
Wang Yuan cut across his unaccustomed show of tenderness. "Don't. You're a Zhou Heavenly realm cultivator. Barring accident, you'll outlive me easily."
Wang Lianshan had spent a lifetime having his word obeyed as law within the clan, and the one and only attack upon his authority had come when he poured vast resources into his eldest son, only to raise in the end a good-for-nothing.
Still, his younger son Wang Hao had grown up quickly, and his authority was long since beyond question once more.
Now, unable to hold his temper a moment longer, he fumed: "How plainly must I put it? This waste you've made of yourself — besides worrying your brother, what good does it do any of us? He comes home every few days just to see you, and do you know how fierce the competition is at the prefecture academy?"
"There it is — I wondered why you'd suddenly take an interest in me..." A faint smile actually crossed Wang Yuan's face. "So that's how it is!"
"Who else would bother with you? Be your waste as you like, I can't be troubled to care. But if you go on jeoparding Hao's cultivation, I'll break your legs — watch me!"
"You're not allowed to talk about my brother that way!"
It was Wang Hao's voice.
He stood at the courtyard gate, travel-worn to his skin. The setting sun hung behind him, neither risen nor yet fallen.
That face, habitually mild, was now flooded with anger.
"Wretch!" Wang Lianshan spun about in a fury. "How dare you speak to your father so?"
"I'm sorry. Father." Wang Hao lowered his head in a reflexive apology, but quickly lifted it again. "But the food my brother eats, the things he uses, the clothes he wears, the roof over his head — I can pay for all of it. Don't interfere in his life anymore."
Wang Lianshan was silent a moment. "Let him be a waste if he wishes. But remember your duty! The clan feeds you resources for your cultivation, not so you can fish for three days and laze for two."
"I will cultivate with all my heart." Wang Hao said, gravely. "And don't call him a good-for-nothing anymore."
"Everyone's feathers are growing stiff these days!" Wang Lianshan swept his sleeve and stalked off. "I don't care anymore. Do as you please, both of you!"
The two brothers watched his back stride out of the courtyard.
"Why did you stop him?" Wang Yuan said softly. "A good-for-nothing is what I am."
Wang Hao turned his head at once. "You are not!"
Looking at his younger brother's stubborn face, Wang Yuan could not help but laugh. "All right, all right. I'm not."
He flicked the orange cat's head with a knuckle. "It is, though."
Xiao Ju understood nothing of what these dull humans were going on about. She merely squirmed in Wang Yuan's arms and let out a low mrow.
This world, it seemed, had at last begun to show a little life.