Chapter 56
Chapter 56
“First, like the Crimsonfire Nightbloom, the sap from its stems and roots treats illnesses and injuries. Its effect rivals a century-old wild ginseng from Changbai Mountain.
“Second, although the Golden-Thread Netherbloom no longer repels ghosts, eating its tricolored flower increases how much qi the body can hold. In other words, it advances one’s cultivation.
“Third, and most mysterious of all, legend in the esoteric world says a Golden-Thread Netherbloom can help resist an arcane tribulation.”
Master’s gaze grew distant.
Arcane tribulation? I had never heard the peculiar term, so I asked immediately.
Instead of answering, she sighed. “When fortune comes, heaven and earth lend their strength; when fortune leaves, even heroes lose command of themselves. For cultivators of the esoteric arts, lost strength becomes tribulation and calamities converge. Ah-Zhong, an arcane tribulation brings immense terror and hardship, but also immense opportunity.”
The more she said, the less I understood. I did not press her. If Master wished to explain, she would; if not, questioning her was pointless.
After hesitating, she continued.
“However noble its justifications, whether righteous or evil, whether focused on the self or nature, cultivation ultimately seeks to transcend ordinary humanity. It defies heaven. Once an esoteric practitioner reaches a certain level, calamity naturally descends.
“This life tribulation may not be a specific disaster. It can simply be unseen ill fortune. Imagine a diviner who suddenly suffers setback after setback and finally chokes to death while drinking water. That is a Misfortune Tribulation.
“Or a master of offensive talisman arts might unexpectedly be killed by a powerless farm woman or bitten to death by a stray dog.
“Arcane tribulations arise randomly and obey few rules. They may be concrete or intangible, a predetermined outcome or a long process. They are elusive and difficult to describe. Fortunately, cultivators can faintly sense their approach.
“Different practitioners have different ways of meeting them. Certain heavenly treasures are said to help. The Golden-Thread Netherbloom is one. Plant a fully mature specimen where you live, and it will carry you safely through the next three years.
“I suspect the person behind that Qi-Gathering Formation happened to find a Crimsonfire Nightbloom in solitary-yang terrain and used the power of feng shui to transform it.”
I marveled at the profundity of the esoteric world and the unexpected mysteries of cultivation.
“Does everyone face an arcane tribulation? Will I?”
Master smiled, her bright eyes beautiful, and rubbed my head. “Ambitious, aren’t you? An arcane tribulation appears only after someone reaches a certain attainment within their arcane lineage. The stronger and more far-reaching that lineage, the later its tribulation comes–and the harder it is to survive.”
Though I no longer considered myself a child, I loved when Master patted my head. I gazed at her admiringly and listened.
Our arcane lineage had an exceptionally high ceiling, she explained. I would have to become extraordinarily powerful before triggering a tribulation. Worrying about it now was like a poor student planning how to live after earning hundreds of millions each year.
I looked at the flower. “If it’s so precious, plant it in your courtyard and let it protect you.”
She shook her head. “It’s too late… Besides, I won’t rely on an external object to withstand my arcane tribulation. Remember this, Ah-Zhong. If you ever advance far enough to face one, overcome it through your own strength. Never borrow an outside aid.”
I nodded rapidly.
Master added that the Golden-Thread Netherbloom Old Cao, Yuan Fei, and I had unearthed was not fully mature. Judging from its red, white, and black petals, it needed at least another week of abundant yin energy.
Uprooting it had forcibly interrupted the union of yin and yang. It would probably never mature completely.
“So it’s ruined?”
“Not exactly. An immature Golden-Thread Netherbloom still has the foundation of a Crimsonfire Nightbloom. This one was nourished in the grave hill’s Qi-Gathering Formation for two or three years and has developed its basic effects. Take it home and plant it in your courtyard.”
That settled the wondrous flower’s fate. It would belong to me.
I rarely argued with Master, mainly because I was timid around her and feared a scolding or beating. That was a joke–mostly.
I carried the Golden-Thread Netherbloom home. On my earlier return from Lianghe Town, before learning its value, I had tossed it into a burlap sack. Now I would never treat it so roughly.
Afraid of damaging even a root or petal, I cradled it carefully in both hands.
Before leaving, I remembered something. “Master, now that we’ve taken the Golden-Thread Netherbloom, will its owner come after us?”
“You’ve incurred an enormous karmic debt with that person. They’ll be furious. Whether they can cause trouble depends on their ability to identify you. Are you afraid?”
Master tilted her head, watching me with a teasing half smile.
I puffed out my chest and slapped it loudly. “Why would I be? They sacrificed the interests of everyone buried on that hill to cultivate something for themselves. They’re an evil cultivator. If they come, I’ll beat them until they howl.”
Ten minutes later, I returned home.
After much deliberation, I planted the Golden-Thread Netherbloom in a huge pot and moved it into my bedroom. That seemed safest.
In the courtyard, an animal or insect might nibble it, or a bird might peck the flower. My room would protect it.
Even unfinished, Master said its sap rivaled century-old Changbai Mountain ginseng. It could also increase cultivation–though she forbade me from eating it. Such a treasure had to be guarded carefully.
Hands on my hips, I admired it for a while, then moved the pot beside my bed like a true miser hoarding gold.
I resumed reading The Classic of Dwellings and The Book of Burial. I had begun my second reading and planned to start memorizing them after the third.
When my eyes tired, I sat cross-legged for an hour practicing the Hand-Sealing Method, a Taoist exercise Master had taught me. Finally, I entered sleep cultivation as Old Cao had instructed.
During busy periods, a few dozen minutes of sleep cultivation restored as much energy as an ordinary full night’s sleep. Practicing it through an entire peaceful night greatly strengthened both body and mind.
As usual, I dreamed of my household familiar: Roundy, the plump gyrfalcon shaped like a fat hen.
I saw it every night in my dreams. We played in dense woods and beside babbling streams.
Sometimes Roundy flew ahead while I chased. It would soon tire, land, and waddle forward on two legs with splayed feet, looking like a giant ball of fluff rolling across the ground. I easily caught it and placed it on my shoulder.
At other times, it brought strange prey from the forest–disgusting poisonous insects in every color, fist-sized black spiders, and rats larger than its own body.
Roundy ate them with relish before me. At first, it even offered me a share, which I politely declined. Dream or not, I had no desire to eat such revolting things.
Roundy’s prey looked like creatures already beginning to turn evil, but I would not eat ordinary insects or animals raw either. Cooked was out of the question too.
As our bond deepened, I sensed more of Roundy’s emotions. We had never met in waking life, yet our dreams felt increasingly real, and I could borrow more of its power.
Perhaps when I became stronger, I would finally meet my household familiar in the waking world.
That night’s dream was different.
I found myself standing on the lane outside my own courtyard, a scene that had never appeared before.
“Roundy? Where are you?”
A series of coos answered. Instead of flying, the enormous feather ball spread its wings and swaggered down the village road on short legs.
“What are you doing here?”
Roundy cooed and pointed one wing toward my house.
“You want to go inside?”
It nodded vigorously.
Though puzzled, I opened the gate. Roundy immediately shot into the air, circled the courtyard, and entered my bedroom through the rear window.
“Roundy, what are you doing?”
Unease rose in me. I sprinted inside and found the fat bird standing beside my bed, bright eyes gleaming greedily with delight.
Then it began devouring my Golden-Thread Netherbloom.
“Roundy, you bastard! Stop! That’s a treasure–you can’t eat it!” I screamed in horror.