Chapter 133: Snow in a Foreign Land (Part II)

Night had fallen again without him noticing. The snow continued to fall, accumulating thickly along the shore, and flakes scattered across the lake’s surface. Yet, despite the bitter cold of the season, the lake remained unfrozen. The fish beneath seemed to play with the falling snowflakes in a silent dance.

The entire lake was shrouded in a veil of snow, but there was one place that seemed otherworldly. The solitary pavilion at the heart of the lake floated quietly in the center. Snowflakes spun lazily above its roof, then drifted down into the water without ever touching the eaves.

Su Fan could not witness this scene. He remained seated cross-legged inside the pavilion—not meditating now, but deep in thought. He murmured to himself, “Whenever I fear that ball of fire, it appears. When I am unafraid, it stays away for a long time. Could that be the secret?”

“The sect leader had vaguely mentioned this before, saying it was a good idea, though he never elaborated. Could it be that it’s forbidden to speak of? Or perhaps even he couldn’t explain it clearly?”

Lost in these thoughts, Su Fan formed hand seals and a faint purple glow shimmered before him. He did not fear being seen practicing spells; in this world of cultivation, many knew several techniques. Perhaps even some old tricksters could mimic a few moves, but cultivators used spells to kill, while tricksters only used them to deceive.

This was Su Fan’s unique, even audacious, perspective on cultivation techniques. If the purple-robed elder were to learn that Su Fan regarded the grand secret of the Qian Zi Celestial Manifestation technique as akin to a mere circus trick used to fool people, he might have long since been furious to the point of vomiting blood.

Yet, it was true. Su Fan had witnessed many deceptive pseudo-cultivation techniques in Luocheng, even in Luoxian City, so his judgment had some basis.

What kept others from noticing his knowledge of spells was simply his low cultivation level. Techniques as wondrous as the Qian Zi Celestial Manifestation required at least the Nascent Soul stage to manifest even a fraction of their power.

Now, at the Foundation Establishment stage, Su Fan could barely reveal a trace of purple light, thanks to his partial purple-blooded lineage, but it was shallow and unremarkable.

He understood this well. Once the purple glow circled his body, he began frantically setting down all the formation arrays he knew or had seen, leaving no stone unturned.

With preparations complete, Su Fan closed his eyes slightly, awakening his long-numbed nerves. He forced himself to fear the now-familiar fireball, though it resembled some form of heavenly tribulation and seemed to possess the power of a celestial calamity.

This was not the first time. He had tested this many times before and confirmed this strange and eerie notion, silently cursing the pavilion’s peculiar nature.

The fireball came as expected. Su Fan executed his hand seals, summoning a faint purple mist. From thin air appeared a slender finger, no larger than a baby's pinky, which pointed directly at the blazing orb. Despite its size, the fireball shattered.

Since the fireball became tangible, Su Fan found it a constant headache. If it were illusory, it could never truly strike him; but now, its real existence meant he had to be extremely cautious. A single hit could yield disastrous consequences.

Fortunately, his agility was keen, and skilled in the profound Nine Heavens Supreme Step technique, he could dodge the fireball with relative ease. Though not yet fully mastered, he had refined the technique considerably.

Still, this was no perfect solution. His primary goal was to cultivate within the sect, not merely to practice spells. Everything was aimed at restoring his cultivation level. Yet since reaching the early Foundation Establishment stage, no amount of spiritual energy seemed to elevate his cultivation further.

Thus, Su Fan hatched a bold plan: to uncover some secret within the fireball, perhaps tied to the pavilion or the lake itself.

After extinguishing the first fireball, many followed in rapid succession. It was as if the fireballs sensed his growing strength and surged in numbers.

Su Fan’s gaze hardened, resolve stiffening.

He darted swiftly within the pavilion, cursing inwardly. “Why have they increased again today? If one hits me, the rest will surely go mad chasing me. This could ruin the plan.”

Yet, for the plan’s sake, he had no choice. He deliberately paused; the fireball behind him crashed into his back. Su Fan spat blood violently, dazed for a moment, but without glancing back, he hastened his escape with a spell.

…

In the small tower beyond the quiet corridor, an elderly woman sat expressionless in a simple chair. Her eyes seemed half-closed, gazing through the sole window, which overlooked the lake outside the corridor. The pavilion at the lake’s center was clearly visible.

“Master,”

Without warning, Yu Ming appeared beside the old woman, speaking respectfully before bowing.

The old woman seemed oblivious, her gaze fixed afar. Her hand, holding a brush, casually traced a stroke before she came to herself and said, “You may break through your cultivation, but remember, the late Nascent Soul stage is the limit. Do not be greedy.”

Yu Ming opened his mouth, as if to speak, but after a glance at the stern-faced old woman and recalling her severity, he lowered his head again.

The old woman gave him a faint, wry smile. “I know what you want to say. If I allowed you to break through at will, no one in the Mystery Sect could match you. You might have already reached the peak of the late Nascent Soul stage.”

Yu Ming’s sorrowful eyes searched the old woman’s face, seeming to plead, "Master, you understand me, yet why forbid my breakthrough?"

“I have said you are good, but not a genius. There is a reason I act thus. If I let you advance recklessly, I fear you will never reach the Heart Transformation stage in this lifetime.”

Yu Ming nodded hurriedly, agreeing, “I am indeed no genius, but the junior brother inside the pavilion is a genius—he truly is. He reached Foundation Establishment in just a few months.”

The old woman paused, then laughed—a forced, yet genuine smile that lasted long before she spoke again. “He… is a waste, at least in terms of cultivation talent.”

She glanced at Yu Ming’s surprised look and added, “Some truths become clear only when you know everything. Though he appears a cultivation wastrel now, if one day he reaches Nascent Soul, the title of genius will belong to him.”

Yu Ming nodded vaguely, then shook his head in confusion. “Then what is the Heart Transformation stage about? Is it not simply forging the body with spiritual energy and mastering its flow?”

The old woman’s expression shifted slightly as she lowered her head, seemingly recalling something. After a long pause, she raised her gaze. “There are many interpretations of Heart Transformation. Some, like us mundane cultivators, only know how to manipulate spiritual energy to achieve it, but that is shallow and inferior. I remember when I was in the imperial capital…”

“Master, you’ve been to the imperial capital?” Yu Ming suddenly asked.

The old woman nodded faintly and continued, “The imperial capital is vast. With my ability, I barely glimpsed a corner, no, less than a corner. I studied at a Taoist temple there, whose abbot was a senior in the Heart Transformation realm. He once said that Heart Transformation is about one’s realm, cultivation is about insight—not anything else.”

Yu Ming’s face grew more serious, then he sighed—not in regret for his master’s limited reach in the imperial capital, which was vast beyond measure and not something to dwell on—but for the bewildering complexity of cultivation. Genius depended on time. There were no eternal prodigies, no eternal mediocrities, only eternal cultivation.

The old woman smiled calmly, seeming to read her disciple’s thoughts. She shook her head with a bitter smile before saying, “Why I say Su Fan is a wastrel now but a genius after Nascent Soul is simple. His cultivation talent is poor; spiritual energy barely enters his body. Yet his ability to perceive and comprehend is strong. The great formation used to recruit disciples tested precisely that. That’s why some possess treasures but never reach the peak, while he has.”

“Before Nascent Soul, talent is key. After Nascent Soul, insight is paramount. Good talent helps, but ultimately, one cannot travel far without insight.”

Yu Ming shook his head helplessly. “So, does that mean those with good talent but poor insight will have a short cultivation path?”

The old woman’s gaze grew cold. “Talent must be extraordinary. If you are favored by heaven, even without insight, you can achieve greatness. Take the empire’s strongest, that general—his talent is astounding. Without insight, he remains a legend in cultivation circles. It is said he has reached the fabled Half-Step to the Celestial Transformation realm.”

Yu Ming’s eyes brightened in astonishment. “Master, are you speaking of General Lan, the empire’s strongest?”

The old woman nodded slightly but seemed reluctant to continue. “In ten years, there will be a grand training exercise, gathering all thirty-six prefectures in the imperial capital. I believe Yongle Prefecture will hold another selection competition, likely in five years. If you wish to participate, then cultivate well.”

Yu Ming nodded silently, counting in his mind the names of the few reclusive yet world-renowned geniuses hidden within Yongle Sect. He imagined battling them all alone—a somewhat arrogant thought.

The old woman waved him away, then looked again out the window, murmuring, “That foreign lad, you are the hope of the Mystery Sect. Without you, the sect will perish within five years. Yet no matter how I look at you now, you seem unlikely to be the one to save us.”

…

Su Fan continued dodging the fireballs rather than seeking a way to leave the pavilion, thus missing a profound discourse on Heart Transformation.

He was unaware that the sect had entrusted its survival to him, and oblivious to the changes occurring in the world. All he knew was that the foreign snow fell relentlessly—vast, beautiful, and unending.

Author’s note:

The update has returned to three thousand characters per chapter. I ask for nothing more than your bookmark.

Thank you… thank you very much.