Cultivation Master in the City

Chapter 10 You and I Are Fated

As the gathering ended, He Xu didn’t follow the crowd back to the dormitory area. The excitement had faded, leaving only emptiness—a perfect reflection of his current mood. After a whole night of noise, he wasn’t ready to return to the clamor of the dorms just yet. He decided to take a walk, enjoying the quiet solitude.

The grove where the Taoist priest lay was located south of the dormitory area. The academic district, like the dorms, consisted of long rectangular buildings running east to west. The dormitory area sat directly north of the academic district, with a large park between the eastern and western dorm zones. The park featured a central lake and vast stretches of grass, and thanks to its scenic beauty—and its proximity to the girls’ dormitory—ninety-nine percent of tonight’s gatherings had taken place there. Only a rare few, like Xiao District’s group, had chosen to meet in the academic district instead.

Of the students who hadn’t joined any gathering, over eighty percent were in their dorms. Among the remaining twenty percent, half were absolute study fanatics—the type who claimed permanent spots in the library—and tonight, most of them had braved the weather to stay there. The other half were likely lovebirds who had "achieved enlightenment," scattered in secluded corners across campus, discussing the meaning of life. Due to the night’s unusual circumstances, even those who usually favored the grove had relocated to the academic buildings. The grove bordered an outer road, where security was normally passable, but with even the nearest academic buildings nearly deserted tonight, safety was far from guaranteed.

This was also why no one had noticed the Taoist priest’s dramatic fall from the sky. Under normal circumstances, it would have startled countless pairs of lovebirds into a frantic scramble.

With the noisy dormitory area to the north, He Xu naturally wandered southward. However, the pitch-black grove held no appeal for him, so instead of entering, he settled on a small patch of grass between the grove and the academic buildings. After sitting for a short while, he lay back, resting his head on his hands and gazing at the sky.

At the site where the priest had obliterated the pursuing squad, the Yanluo minions—who had initially spread out to encircle him—had now regrouped. After examining the lingering energy at the scene, they confirmed that the priest had used his Golden Core to attack. Normally, a Golden Core contained the entirety of a cultivator’s cultivation. Losing it meant losing all the progress of countless years of training. Thus, unless pushed to the brink, a cultivator would never risk deploying it—especially not someone like the priest, whose Golden Core had already been damaged by the Heavenly Tribulation. Using it now would only worsen his injuries. The traces of Golden Core energy at the scene convinced them that the priest was gravely wounded, unable to flee far, and might have even collapsed.

Under the leaders’ orders, the remaining Yanluo minions split into pairs and fanned out in all directions from the battle site. Before departing, each pair received a drop of a mysterious liquid from one of the leaders. The moment the liquid touched their tongues, it transformed into an elusive energy before vanishing. In the blink of an eye, the entire group had dispersed.

One lucky pair moved in the direction the priest had fled, slowly closing in on the grove. However, the Yanluo minions lacked the spiritual sense unique to cultivators, relying solely on scent and sight for tracking. The priest had concealed his aura during his escape, forcing them to rely on visual searches, which slowed their progress considerably.

The priest remained oblivious to the approaching danger, too consumed by the crisis within. The residual Heavenly Tribulation energy his Golden Core had absorbed was now on the verge of breaking free, destabilizing further as the core itself neared collapse. Within his dantian, silver light flickered ominously along the cracks in the Golden Core, sending tremors through his body with each pulse. Every convulsion drained more color from his already pale face.

Every ounce of his spiritual power was devoted to stabilizing the Golden Core. After prolonged combat and flight, his reserves were nearly depleted—so much so that he couldn’t even spare the energy to open his storage pouch. Fortunately, faint traces of Spiritual Qi lingered in the air. The priest desperately absorbed it, converting it into streams of fiery-red energy that wove into a net around his Golden Core, sustaining it. Only this external support kept the flickering silver light from breaking free.

Calculating the intervals between the silver light’s surges, the priest seized the moment after one subsided to divert his energy toward his storage pouch. Two large chunks of fiery-red Spirit Stones materialized in his hands just as another surge began. Without his full spiritual support, the Golden Core could no longer suppress the silver light as it expanded outward. But in the nick of time, a torrent of energy—a hundred times denser than what he could draw from the air—poured through his hands into his dantian, barely suppressing the silver light once more.

The Spiritual Qi within a ten-mile radius had been exhausted from his absorption. The mortal realm’s Qi was simply too sparse to sustain cultivation. This anomaly didn’t escape the notice of the Yanluo pair that had just entered the area, prompting them to intensify their search.

The priest replaced each Spirit Stone the instant it turned gray, and with the massive influx of energy, the intervals between the silver light’s surges lengthened. Just half an hour more, and he could fully suppress it again. But fate wasn’t on his side this time. High above, the two Yanluo minions had already spotted the motionless priest seated in the grove.

Completely focused on his Golden Core, the priest remained unaware of the outside world. The Yanluo minions, recognizing his vulnerability, abandoned their usual tactic of distant observation and attacked outright. Each drew a half-meter-long curved bone dagger from their ribs and charged, one from the front, the other from behind.

Just as the blades were about to pierce the priest’s body, an ancient, cracked jade pendant—hanging at his waist—suddenly flew to his forehead and erupted with radiant light. The daggers struck the glow first, but in an instant, they disintegrated into nothingness. The Yanluo minions followed, reduced to ashes. As they perished, wisps of mysterious energy emerged from the ashes and adhered to the pendant.

Though the pendant had acted autonomously, the clash’s shockwaves disrupted the delicate balance between the Golden Core and the silver light. The priest coughed up several mouthfuls of blood before catching the slowly descending pendant. New, finer cracks now covered its surface, making it seem as though the slightest touch would shatter it.

"Ha! Five hundred years of cultivation, only to be ended by Qi Refining vermin! How utterly laughable! How utterly laughable!" The priest staggered to his feet, tilting his head back in maddened laughter. "Is history truly doomed to repeat itself?"

He Xu, still outside the grove, had noticed the pendant’s glow immediately. But before he could react, the priest’s crazed laughter sent him sprinting toward the dorms at full speed—a record-breaking dash.

He hadn’t gone far when a figure shot out of the grove. As it passed him, a hand lashed out in midair, and darkness swallowed He Xu’s consciousness.

When he awoke, he found himself in a cave, face-to-face with a middle-aged man in tattered, bloodstained Taoist robes. He Xu knew little time had passed. He tried to speak but found his mouth unresponsive—as if an invisible force had sealed his lips.

The priest spoke first. "This old Taoist is known as Xiaoyaozi. In five centuries of cultivation, I’ve never taken a disciple. Now, on the brink of death, fate has brought us together. I hereby accept you as my disciple. Kneel and pay your respects."

The moment the words left his mouth, He Xu’s body moved against his will, kowtowing in reverence. Once the ritual ended, he remained kneeling as the priest continued.

"I, He Xu, now pledge myself to Xiaoyaozi as his disciple, joining the Dunjia Sect as its seventh-generation member. I vow never to betray the sect or turn against my master…" Against his will, He Xu repeated every word.

"Should I break this oath, may I perish beneath the Heavenly Tribulation, my soul scattered to the winds." As he finished, the priest drew a glowing sigil in midair. He Xu’s right index finger lifted involuntarily, pricking itself. A drop of blood flew into the sigil, staining it crimson before it flashed and vanished.

In that instant, He Xu felt an inexplicable connection to the world itself—a certainty that this oath was no mere formality. Breaking it would invite divine retribution.

With the ritual complete, the priest’s gaze softened. Seeing He Xu’s confusion, he said, "I know you have questions, but time is short. Listen carefully. Blink if you understand."

He Xu had no choice but to comply.

"I am the Dunjia Sect’s Grand Elder, one of its two Golden Core cultivators. During my visit to the mortal realm, I was ambushed and now face my end. My death matters little, but I must relay critical news to the sect. I won’t live long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Remember this well."

The priest produced the cracked pendant. "This is the sect’s legacy treasure. Though nearly destroyed, it can still block one attack below the Foundation Establishment Phase. Use it only in dire need." He passed a hand over it, and its spiritual glow faded into plainness. Taking a drop of He Xu’s blood, he let it absorb into the pendant before tapping it. The pendant vanished.

"I’ve bound it to you and stored it in your dantian. Once you cultivate spiritual power, you can refine it. This pendant has a twin, held by the Sect Leader. After my death, he’ll come to investigate. The pendants resonate—he’ll find you. Tell him you’re Xiaoyaozi’s disciple and relay these exact words: First, ‘The mortal realm is changing; Spiritual Qi has begun to appear.’ Second, ‘The alien race has returned.’ Memorized?"

He Xu blinked frantically.

"Next, I impart my life’s cultivation insights and techniques. The volume is vast—too much for you now. I’ll seal the knowledge, unlocking it as your cultivation progresses." A tap to He Xu’s forehead flooded his mind with indecipherable memories.

The priest coughed up more vital blood.

"My storage and spirit beast pouches. The storage pouch contains many Qi Refining Pills—I oversaw the sect’s alchemy stores, so these aren’t for you. The Spirit Stones and materials inside must be returned to the Sect Leader when he retrieves you. Until then, you may use them for cultivation. Methods are in the techniques. Though… you likely won’t need them." Wiping his lips, he placed the pouches before He Xu.

"The other holds my spirit beast. Treat it well. I’ve already relayed my will—it will recognize you as its master upon awakening." He stroked the pouch wistfully.

"They’re here." The priest suddenly looked up at the cave ceiling.

"Live well, child. Deliver my message. And beware the creatures that attacked me. Their images are in your memories."

These were the last words He Xu heard before darkness took him again.