Chapter Twenty-Three: The Journey Begins (Please Add to Favorites, Please Recommend)

Master Ye sized up Lu Zhe and said, “First, you must lay a strong foundation.”

Lu Zhe was taken aback. “How should I do that?”

Master Ye slowly stood, walked to the nearby cliff, and surveyed its edge. With a swift motion, he lifted the bamboo staff, gripped it firmly, pointed its tip at the cliff, and suddenly hurled it. The staff shot from his hand like an arrow, piercing deep into the cliff face, embedding about a third of its length.

Then, Master Ye glanced at the bewildered Lu Zhe and pointed at the bamboo staff sticking out of the cliff. “Now, you must hang from that staff with both hands until the sun sets.”

“What?!” Lu Zhe cried in alarm. Hanging from that fragile bamboo staff until sunset—not that he feared his own endurance, but he worried the staff might break.

Seeming to sense Lu Zhe’s thoughts, Master Ye spoke calmly, “Don’t worry, the staff won’t break.”

“But… How am I supposed to get over there?” Lu Zhe asked, stunned. He was several dozen feet away from the opposite cliff; he couldn’t possibly jump that distance.

Before Lu Zhe could protest further, Master Ye suddenly flashed to his side, seized him by the collar, and, like an eagle snatching a chick, lifted him and tossed him toward the bamboo staff. Lu Zhe shot toward the cliff like a cannonball.

As he neared the staff, Lu Zhe reached out and managed to grasp it. Gazing down at the abyss beneath—hundreds of feet deep—he sucked in a breath and clung more tightly to the staff. At that moment, Master Ye shouted from the opposite mountainside, “Boy, you must channel your spiritual energy into your hands. Mere brute force won’t be enough to sustain you.”

Lu Zhe was startled. It was midday now; sunset was still far off. If he relied only on physical strength, he’d never last, especially since he hadn’t eaten today. He had no choice but to activate his spiritual core, draw forth his energy, and direct it into his hands.

Master Ye’s words proved true. As Lu Zhe drew on his energy, he felt the strain; without that energy, he would have plummeted into the abyss. Even so, less than an hour later, his arms began to go numb. Inspecting his own condition, he saw that his once radiant spiritual core had grown dim and feeble, its glow faded. A stream of red energy was being continuously drawn out, guided by his will into his arms.

While recovering at Old Six’s home, Lu Zhe had practiced controlling spiritual energy under Old Six’s guidance. Though not yet adept, he could manage the flow of energy according to his intent.

On the opposite mountain, Master Ye sat cross-legged, quietly watching Lu Zhe struggle to endure. The mountain wind gently stirred his robe, giving him the appearance of a transcendent sage.

After watching Lu Zhe for some time, Master Ye slowly closed his eyes, his mask shifting slightly. He spoke softly, “Is there something you wish to say?”

Not long after his words faded, a figure slowly appeared behind him. The newcomer was exceptionally tall—nearly six feet—and powerfully built, approaching Master Ye’s side in measured steps.

He came to stand at Master Ye’s right, gazing silently at the cliff where Lu Zhe hung. His eyelids twitched, and he blinked before speaking without turning, “Is this really how you teach your disciple?”

Master Ye did not answer immediately, but slowly opened his eyes. “How I teach is none of your concern.”

The tall figure said nothing, watched Lu Zhe for a moment, then turned to face Master Ye. Shaking his head, he raised his left hand and touched a ring on his middle finger. Instantly, the ring flashed with blue light, and when the glow faded, a black cloth-wrapped object appeared in his hand.

Master Ye glanced sidelong at the figure and remarked indifferently, “Blue Ocean God Ring—quite a treasure.”

The figure gave a wry smile at Master Ye but said nothing. He simply offered the cloth-wrapped item to him.

Master Ye turned to look and saw it was a long, cylindrical object, its contents obscured by the black cloth. He reached out to take it. As it settled into his hand, its weight surprised him. He quickly brought it before his eyes and examined it closely, then turned to the figure, his tone uncertain, “Is this Meteorite Iron?”

The figure nodded.

Seeing him affirm it, Master Ye said nothing further, but placed the object flat on the ground. “This isn’t something money can buy. How did you come by it?”

The man glanced at Lu Zhe. “His clan gave it to me.”

Master Ye merely nodded, then asked, “Why are you giving it to me?”

The man replied, “What else? It’s for the boy to forge a weapon.”

He then glanced at Master Ye, then at Lu Zhe, and a hint of greed flickered in his eyes. “Still, no matter how valuable this is, it can be found on the black market. Unlike what you hold—the one and only in the world.”

Master Ye met his gaze, his voice suddenly colder. “You should know what risks I took to obtain it.”

The man nodded, though the greed in his eyes only intensified. “Precisely because of that, its value is unparalleled.”

Master Ye regarded him coldly. “How many times have we dueled?”

The man was startled, staring blankly. “Fifty times. Why?”

“And the outcome?” Master Ye asked, his tone flat.

The man was startled anew, then his expression turned bleak and resigned, the greed fading from his eyes. He spoke weakly, “Fifty duels, fifty victories for you. As for me… well, there’s nothing more to say.”

Master Ye said nothing. After a long silence, the man spoke quietly, “If it weren’t for your elemental advantage, I would have beaten you long ago.”

Master Ye nodded calmly. “You’re right. If it were only a matter of spiritual energy and attack power, I wouldn’t match you. But my element counters yours, and there’s nothing to be done about it. However,” he shifted, gesturing to where Lu Zhe clung to the bamboo staff, “as you know, this thing is of no use to you—indeed, it suppresses you somewhat.”

The man nodded. “True. Yet its value can’t be underestimated. At least it’s in your hands; if word got out and it fell to someone else, those old immortals would be here in no time to snatch it.”

Master Ye nodded again and suddenly asked, “You didn’t come just to deliver this, did you?”

The man nodded. “I’m leaving. I wanted to see him one last time.”

Master Ye nodded and said nothing more. The man looked at Lu Zhe once more before turning to leave, glancing back every few steps, his gaze lingering on the bamboo staff clutched in Lu Zhe’s hands. At last, he sighed heavily and vanished into the mountains.

Master Ye did not look back, his eyes fixed on Lu Zhe, who struggled in the valley. A quiet voice emerged from behind his mask.

“Little one, those around you are no ordinary folk.”