The prickling pain slipped away, and with it, the needle left his body. The heavier ache in his core didn’t leave, however.

“How do you feel?”

Xu Liang didn’t really know how to answer that question. Like he had been stabbed hundreds of times, and had the pain echo in his mind repeatedly sounded a bit too direct. He didn’t want to offend after all. So, he opted instead for another figure of speech.

“Bad.” Because ‘bad’ was a very light way of describing the sensation flowing through his limbs.

Granted, the pain was leaving rather rapidly.

“That’s to be expected for your first lesson,” his master acquiesced.

His… Master? Patriarch? Xu Liang didn’t know how to call the one who healed his mother. Plus, the constant refusal of any respectful way of addressing him made things even harder. After ruminating for a while, he decided to just put it together with the many oddities about his new teacher.

Like what he wore: robes weren’t accessible to most, yet the one he wore—plain black—screamed of fake wealth. It was the kind they scammed those trying to appear as wealthy with.

Even Xu Liang knew as much, with his limited knowledge about clothing.

But why would a cultivator need to fake his status? Rumors about his presence spread like fire throughout the city, and he would easily get lavished with expensive gifts if he entertained the wealthy of the city for a night or two. Without even giving anything in return.

Xu Liang blinked, before cutting that train of thoughts. He nodded to himself, feeling as he should probably be thankful his master wasn’t one for those kinds of things.

“Well, it’s going to be that way for a while. Until you get used to drawing qi, that weird sensation will stay.”

That… was going to be annoying. Xu Liang took a step, and felt like he had to lift mountains.

Something surged from within.

Then the next instant, he found his foot dug into the ground, an unpleasant sensation of grainy dirt creeping in.

It was also now he realized he had forgotten to put back on his shoes.

“Oh,” slipped out of his mouth.

“Don’t try to use qi when doing simple movements,” explained his master, standing up and putting the needle back in his robe. “Whenever that burst of energy comes, hold it back.”

“How?” Was forced to ask the young boy. It was like something was simmering inside of him, ready to burst out at every moment. It filled every gap, erasing the dull pang he felt earlier each time it flew by. Instead, it was almost painful not to use it.

Another step.

Leaves crunched underneath his foot, leaving yet another indent in the ground.

“How?” he repeated, his voice lowering with confusion.

He straightened up, deciding that not moving was a better decision. He looked up to the one responsible for this mess, almost begging for help as he had both of his feet dug into the ground.

His master just sighed. This first lesson wasn’t going well.

Xu Liang’s eyes widened for a second. A shiver ran across his spine as he felt something slimy tickle the top of his feet. He looked down, seeing the small slithering length of a worm greet his appendage.

Not going well at all.

“Is it not normal?” Xu Liang asked, his heart speeding up at the same time.

“Hmmm…” His master trailed off.

The boy stopped dead in his track, having to reel back in the overflow of energy coursing through his body. Delicately, he planted first his biggest toe on the ground. Then the top of his sole, before the whole left foot rested atop of the orange leaves and dirt. Having succeeded, without damaging the landscape, he let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding this whole time.

However, he opened slightly his eyes, leaving slits on his face and furrowed brows, before glancing at his master. It wasn’t the difficulty of not using qi, however ironic it sounded, that made him nervous.

“No,” concluded his master, his gaze coming down from the sky.

Xu Liang gulped.

Of course…

It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t felt special when asked to become a cultivator’s disciple. Plus, the same cultivator agreed to help him, and without asking anything in return. A small sliver of pride slipped into his mind at this moment: seeing the dejected face of a being so respected when he declined his invitation at first.

If the cultivator wanted him that much, maybe it meant he had talent?

Now, he felt like his master’s willingness to help was more due to his own character. There was nothing special about him. He was foolish to believe otherwise. He was but an orphan who lucked out and was handed an alchemy book.

Alchemy didn’t take talent gifted from the skies. It just took time, trials, and errors before finding the correct combination.

Nothing special about him.

That word, ‘no’, just confirmed it. His heart raced, and Xu Liang felt like a sludge was forming in his throat.

After all, he had never heard of untalented cultivators. How could it exist, when cultivators were meant to be those chosen by the Heavens? No, Xu Liang feared for the worst.

Am I going to get kicked out? Or worse…

“But it doesn’t matter. My own example… is no example at all.” His master blinked. “Actually, I really shouldn’t base your progress on my own.”

Xu Liang felt the tension drain from his body. He took another step and… the ground splashed.

Oh no!

His eyes widened, seeing the crater he formed. Then they widened further when he saw the dirt stains on his school robe. Now, the lower part looked more brown than blue. The boy froze for a couple of seconds, before letting out a long and painful sigh.

“And… yes. Emotions make the thing even trickier.”

Xu Liang wanted to nod at that sentence, seeing it first-hand, but instead, his lips thinned. He panicked, wondering how his master was aware. No, rather, how much his master was aware of. Millions of questions popped in his head, and he was unable to stop them. Could it be that cultivators could read the mind of others? If so—

“You might as well be an open book,” his master deadpanned, forcing Xu Liang to meet his gaze.

“Ah…” A pink dusting appeared on his cheeks.

It wasn’t the first time he was told so. It didn’t make it any more pleasant, however.

“The good news is: You don’t seem to struggle to call your qi forth. Though, you have problems controlling it.”

His master approached him. He then tapped the middle of Xu Liang’s forehead with one of his index fingers, surprising him. Xu Liang took a step back, his mouth opening slightly as he raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t move, I’m trying to look at your pathways,” said his master, eyes closed.

Xu Liang brought down his shoulders and waited. After a couple of seconds, his master’s eyes opened again, and with it, came a small smile.

“...Is something wrong?” asked Xu Liang, curious.

“No. But expect to struggle a bit longer. For the rather small size of your soul sea, you have large pathways, meaning far more qi will flow than intended. And since you don’t have that many pathways, to begin with, it will result in higher concentrations of qi in your every action.”

“I don’t? Is there an ideal number of pathways?”

“As many as you can have, I guess. Though the highest I’ve heard is sixty—you have twelve, for your information.”

“Is… is that not bad?” Xu Liang had to regulate his breath for an instant.

“It depends compared to who. In my previous sect, you wouldn’t even pass the requirement to present yourself. Here? I’d say it’s pretty decent. And it’s not like you are stuck at twelve for your whole life, there are many methods to improve on that aspect.”

“Methods?”

His master’s lips twitched. “Curious, aren’t you? Well, most I know are extremely dangerous, and they’re not applicable for you right now. Ask me again when you’re at least in the Earth Realm.”

Xu Liang opened his mouth.

“Before you ask me, there are three great realms: Mortal, Earth, and Sky. Each is then divided into three smaller realms. After that, the world starts having seen enough of you, and lightning rains from the Heavens, calling you to climb up there.”

Xu Liang nodded, taking in the new knowledge. Lightning raining from the sky? The world having seen enough of you? Could the world even see?

It was the first time he felt the difference between normal people and his master. These kinds of things only happened in stories for him. Yet, his master was talking about it like it was an everyday occurrence—he even seemed almost tired of it.

He… He truly signed up for a whole new experience, didn’t he?

And as ridiculous as it sounded… Xu Liang stared into the green eyes of the tall man in front of him. The one who healed his mother with that mysterious green fire. The corner of his lips rose slightly.

As ridiculous as it sounded… Xu Liang believed it. It must be true, after all, these were his new master’s words.

And what kind of disciple he would be, if he didn’t believe his master?