“So, you don’t want to become my disciple?”

“...I—This one will do whatever is needed, esteemed cultivator,” the boy admitted to me, bowing once more.

I sighed. It was a good enough answer anyway.

“You can talk to me normally,” I waved with a frown, though I suspected he wouldn’t listen. “And If it’s not something you want to do, then there’s no point. I just wished you said that to me first…” I fixed him with a pointed look.

If I manage to solve this problem fast enough, maybe I’ll be able to resume my recruitment before the day ends.

I glanced at the sky, where the sun was already starting its descent.

Maybe it was wishful thinking.

Meanwhile, the boy kept his head low while we walked.

This part of the city was noticeably poorer than where I was located the previous days—narrower streets, often marked by time in a way renovation would erase. Dirt often replaced pavement, though bare stones, chipped by the rain, were placed sometimes. The usage of wood in the buildings was much more prevalent than before, though the same eastern vibe prevailed.

The houses themselves were small and often built right next to each other—like space was going to run out. This resulted in very tight neighborhoods, where everything was just a couple of steps away from anyone, and every corner had that one open shop, with food often being on display.

Not much sizzling meat scent here, they didn’t seem rich enough to afford it, but I could spot rice and vegetables easily. Vegetation itself was uncontrolled, growing weeds and trees often mingled with human constructions.

“I-I have a book,” he blurted out, taking me out of my observations, slight unease slipping in his voice. We came to a stop before he presented to me the leather-covered book I noticed earlier. “I don’t know if it is valuable... in any way, to this esteemed cultivator…” he trailed off, not daring to lift his head.

I raised an eyebrow. A sliver of curiosity burned in me, but I stifled it quickly. The faster I get to the point, the faster I get back to my task.

Plus, the poor boy looked like he was walking on eggshells, and while I understood why, it wasn’t something I enjoyed. It made nearly every interaction difficult. I hoped this time it would be different, but I realized the reason he was so direct with me previously was because of the desperation pushing him. Once he secured my help, he reverted to the half-fearful, half-respectful behavior with a sprinkle of starry eyes most had when they understood I was a cultivator.

“Don’t worry about it. I gave you my word already.”

I could see his shoulders relax ever so slightly.

“I see… This esteemed cultivator has my eternal gratitude.” His bow went even deeper.

I cringed, though I tried to not let it show on my face.

“Yeah… let’s not do that,” I said, watching him stiffen up. “Eternity is a long time, and while it doesn’t mean anything to you, it means something to me.”

The look he held told me his confusion about my words, but he accepted them nonetheless.

I just didn’t want any weird stuff happening years down the road because of these kinds of sentences. Karma was a bitch, and karma very much existed here. No point in taking unnecessary risks.

“Also, what did you want to show me? Might as well do it now, unless it’s not something you should be letting out in the open…?”

He nodded, before tucking his book between his arm and his torso, and used the now free hand to remove the brown cloth from the dome-like object in his other hand, revealing a glass jar. When I laid my eyes upon it, I froze.

“This is a piece of lump those infected by the crimson plague expel from their lungs. I… We don’t know where it comes from, but the name comes from the color of this piece of flesh,” he explained—any nuance in his tone disappearing, almost like he was reading out of a book.

“Where did you get it from?” I asked, eyes now narrowed.

He paused for a second when he saw my expression. Fear and apprehension flashed in his eyes before he blinked these emotions away the next moment. He gulped, steel shifting into his tone as he said, “I’m an amateur—no, I dabble in the prestigious art of alchemy sometimes…”

His eyes roamed my face, waiting for my reaction.

I had none. What he held in his hands was occupying most of my thoughts.

“And as a result, I was able to obtain this sample from the doctors of this city under disguise.”

“Doctors?” I doubted normal doctors would be able to do anything with this kind of illness, and the disbelief wasn’t lost to him.

“Ah, well, they’re not that respected in the city, but they’re actually trying to help us,” he said, dropping his formal-like tone for just a sentence, and instead spoke like he was trying to defend them.

“When did the crimson plague start?” I questioned, trying to establish a timeline—or rather, trying to understand when the problem started.

Because this was a really big problem.

“...Nearly twenty years ago.”

I clicked my tongue. For a heartbeat, fear pulsed through me, before it turned into frustration. A long sigh bolstered by a tired groan slipped past my lips. I rubbed my forehead, a deep frown on my face as I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the possibilities.

“Is there a problem, esteemed cultivator?” He asked, alarmed. Obviously, Xu Liang was worried by my reaction, and for a good reason. I was nearly the only person in this city able to undo this mess.

Nearly?

No cultivator had set foot in this city in the past century, according to Zihao, the one who held a stand in the marketplace. I was the only person able to cure this, period.

“Yeah. Yeah, there is. A big one, at that. The crimson plague… isn’t a plague at all.”

It was a corruption process. One which offered death to mortals, and a worse fate for those who were not. Worst of all, it was the foretelling sign of an invasion.

A demonic invasion.

Or some people just playing with things they shouldn’t, realistically. If it was a demonic invasion, one started twenty years in the past, there would be quite a bit more than just a couple of cases in a city.

No, entire populations would be slowly snuffed out and their corpses used as food, alongside their souls. Nobody from that side liked to do certain things half-heartedly, and violence was one of them.

Just like cultivators, now that I think of it.

“It should be over now,” I said, a green flame fizzling out of existence in my hand.

The light of the fire removed, obscurity came back roaring, only held back by the crackling fireplace behind me. No windows here, only bookshelves, a sofa, and a table. It was a rather empty room—almost like furniture was missing.

It was apparently the biggest room of the orphanage.

“Already?” Xu Disi said, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked at the hand I was holding until now—not a single sign of a burn on it, despite being held inside of fire for several minutes.

“You’re really not a normal doctor?” she asked, wonder in her voice, though she knew the answer already.

I only gave her a small smile, before returning to my pressing thoughts.

In hindsight, it was probably just a couple of idiots stumbling upon forbidden rituals and in a desperate bid for power, doomed a couple of inhabitants.

That, for twenty years in a row.

I held back a sigh. I was fooling myself here. The situation was, admittedly, dire. Not ‘invasion’ dire, but if they’ve been at it for two decades, it was past being an accident.

My attention was grabbed by the presence hiding behind the door. Or rather, the one leaving the pack, because there were at least a dozen people peeking at the slightly opened door. I turned to it and gave a smile to the children who watched the process with great attention.

Almost like it was a green light, they surged forward—a sea of pattering feet—aimed at the middle-aged woman in front of me. The table sitting in front of the sofa, where she was sitting, rattled away, creaking with the distinctive sound of wood’s friction against wood. I took a couple of steps back and watched as she was swarmed by the orphanage children. Hugs, tears and sobs filling the atmosphere.

“Mommy!” Some screamed, holding her dearly while she laughed, slightly overwhelmed.

“Are you okay?” One of the oldest asked though she didn’t let that deter her from competing with the younger kids for a piece of Xu Disi.

My smile got a bit wider seeing the scene. I understood now. It was like the room got warmer all of the sudden. The material emptiness of the room was being filled with the natural warmth of a family.

In a way, it was my objective with my compound.

I felt a tug at my pants. I looked down, seeing a kid—probably no older than twelve—face round and almost pudgy, staring at me with wide green eyes shining with awe. Her small ponytail made of black hair swung in the air as her cheeks were flushed from excitement. She looked like she was trying to contain herself from moving around.

“W-What was that green fire?” She asked, her voice filled with the curiosity of youth.

At her words, more than a couple of the kids turned towards me, nearly pushing their ears forward to listen better. I sighed, amused, but before I could answer, the calm voice of Xu Disi chimed, “Don’t bother the doctor, Yao Yao. We should thank him and Liang for healing me instead.”

At the end of her sentence, she blinked, before looking around. “Speaking of him, where is he?”

“He left earlier,” I said, knowing he was the presence I sensed walking away. “And I should probably join him, I have other patients after all…”

It was a lie, I didn’t feel like intruding on their family moment any longer.

She smiled at me in a way that had me thinking she knew, before saying: “I am eternally grateful for your service.” Even though it was hard to bow with children sticking to her sides, she did it anyway, while I held back a flinch at her word usage.

Maybe I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t be too safe.

Turns out it runs in the family as well…

I found Xu Liang outside, standing back against the wall and looking into the garden behind the orphanage. Tall, wet tufts of grass and weeds mingled with fallen leaves. A tree stood in the middle, with an orange canopy covering more than half of the garden. The boy looked overwhelmed by emotions.

His eyes were red like he had cried before. He stood there, arms crossed with his left hand gripping tightly his right arm.

“I think your mother wants to see you,” I said, taking him by surprise.

He jumped and snapped his head in my direction. When he realized it was me, his eyes widened, before a pink tint came to his cheeks and his hands went to his eyes, rubbing them rather vigorously.

“T-This one apologizes for this pathetic display.”

“You can speak normally you know,” I said, feeling like I might have to repeat myself a couple of times.

“I understand,” he bowed and thanked me, though this time, real respect and recognition seeped through his voice, alongside immense relief.

“And… can I ask a question?” he asked, looking straight into my eyes for the first time.

“Sure.”

“That green fire…” He glanced around, visibly trying to choose the right words. “Can it heal anything?”

It was a rather broad question and one which was asking to be answered with nothing but a ‘no’. Still, his gaze told me he was genuine.

“So long as you know your target, it can purify anything, yes,” I acquiesced.

That was what it represented anyway.

He gulped, his eyes widening. “Can it be learned?”

I looked at him. I looked at him. The vision of the quiet sputter of embers, a fire ready to be started came back.

“Yes.”

“C-Can it be coupled with alchemy?”

“Yes.” In fact, it might be a better way to use its effect.

“...I know I refused to become your disciple earlier, but is it too late to take it back?”

A short silence settled, his shoulders squared and his lips twitched a bit, tension filling his body before it was all broken by my chuckles.

“Of course not.”

With that, I saw him nearly deflate in front of me.

“Although, I have to ask a question before.”

One essential to my way of teaching. The essence of my sect. Gone were the pretentious questions, or the judging gazes from me. No, this time, I went straight to the essential. If a change must happen, it must first happen from me, after all.

He tensed up, determination filling his eyes.

I brought my clenched fist close to my face as if trying to show something, and pushed my index finger up. From the tip burst forward a white flame—illuminating the surroundings brighter than the sun could.

His eyebrows rose, staring at the sight with wonder.

And I said the same words which opened my eyes the first time. A question so simple you’d wonder how people spending centuries cultivating never asked it to themselves.

“For you, what is a fire that comes from the soul?"