Morning broke with the usual haze of grey clouds lingering above the outer sect. Jiang Chen wrapped his black outer sect robes tightly, eyes sharp as blades as he stepped out from his small courtyard.
With exactly 410 spirit stones in his bag of holding, he began the descent toward the market area.
The market of the Heavenly Tiger Sect sat on a wide plateau below the main peaks. Stone pavilions lined the cliffs, and tiled shops jutted out like teeth. Flags swayed in the breeze, and faint cries of hawkers mixed with the ring of metal and hiss of alchemical fires.
Everything from talismans to spirit beasts and more changed hands in a steady flow, as cultivators moved through the bustle like currents in a river.
Jiang Chen stepped into a dim herb store nestled between two teahouses, its entrance obscured by dangling strings of dried fox-tail grass. The faint scent of bitter roots and herbal dust lingered in the air. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with ancient jars sealed with talisman papers.
He walked to the counter, behind which sat an elderly man with sunken cheeks and cataract-clouded eyes.
Without wasting a breath, Jiang Chen drew a folded slip from his sleeve and placed it silently on the counter.
The shopkeeper glanced at it, nodded faintly, and walked into the back room. He soon returned with both arms holding with jars and herb bundles wrapped in yellowed talisman paper.
The old shopkeeper gave a crooked smile. "Ninety spirit stones only. Young friend, you won't find better stock for that price."
Jiang Chen didn't respond. He reached out and began inspecting each item.
The old man chuckled, trying to lighten the silence. "Heh, young man, these old hands may be slow, but I don't cheat."
Jiang Chen ignored his words. He peeled open seals, weighed jars, flicked his finger across dried powders to test consistency. The old man's smile faltered slightly, but he said no more.
Only after confirming their quality did he nod slightly. With a wave of his hand, the items vanished into his bag of holding under the pull of his divine sense.
He placed ninety spirit stones on the counter, turned and walked out without a word.
Naturally, Jiang Chen did not purchase the refinement material by exact measure. A few portions were deliberately in excess. Not just in case something went wrong during the refinement, but also to make sure no one could piece together the true recipe from what he purchased.
While stepping out of the shop, a soft voice called out.
"Brother Jiang."
He turned his head slightly.
A young woman stood a few steps away, dressed in pale blue robes. Morning light fell across her face, catching on the soft curve of her lips and the shimmer in her eyes. Her features were delicate and graceful, like jade sculpted by spring wind. She was Lu Yuning, a fellow outer sect disciple.
Lu Yuning stepped forward and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Jiang Chen gave a brief nod. "Needed some materials."
She stepped closer, smiled faintly. "You always speak like that. To the point."
He said nothing.
Lu Yuning hesitated, then spoke again, this time with more intention. "I was thinking of taking another mission. I remember last time… with you there, things felt easier."
She looked up at him, eyes filled with a soft light. "Maybe we could pair up again?"
Jiang Chen's gaze didn't waver. "I just returned from one yesterday. For the next few days, I'll be focusing on cultivation."
She bit her lip lightly, then gave a small nod. "Of course. You're always diligent."
There was a pause.
Lu Yuning lowered her gaze, fingers curling slightly at her side. Her voice softened. "Still… if you change your mind, I'll be around."
Jiang Chen nodded once, then turned and walked away.
He did not look back.
'Just like always,' she thought.
...
The wind stirred gently along the mountain path as Jiang Chen walked alone.
'Affection, kinship, desire.'
His steps did not falter, but with each passing thought, the light in his eyes grew colder.
'What's the point? So fleeting. So shallow. Chasing after such things is like grasping at the wind. It cools the skin for a breath, then slips through the fingers, leaving nothing behind.'
The path ahead twisted and climbed, yet Jiang Chen walked it as if it were straight.
'What walks beside you today will abandon you tomorrow.'
'What is family to one who finds comfort only in the path ahead?'
'What is love to a heart that fears mediocrity more than loss?'
'Everyone's in such a rush to forge friendships and seek understanding in others, yet turn their blades inward and despise their own hearts. Never once sitting alone with their thoughts. What wisdom is that? These wordly things are merely dust on the sleeve. Their importance is no more than a ripple upon a lake, a brief disturbance to the flow of life.'
'Only solitude remains honest from the beginning. Heh, what a terrifying word that is for us humans... Solitude is not an enemy to be feared nor a curse to be cured. It is something to be cherished. It does not deceive and it is the most loyal. In isolation the mind becomes a still lake, reflecting heaven and earth without distortion or distraction. A cultivator walks alone not because he chooses to, but because no one can follow where his path leads.'
A cold wind swept through, stirring the hem of Jiang Chen's robes and lifting strands of his long black hair.
'And immortality…'
A rare smile touched his lips.
'A dream born of madness. As distant as the stars, more illusory than illusions, and more cruel than truth. Yet what else can lend meaning to this path?'
'Only immortality makes the journey worth it. It is the fire of my life.' Jiang Chen's eyes were blazingly clear.
'Who cares if it exists or not?'
'Even if immortality proves to be a lie, it is a lie worthy of pursuit. It makes each step worth it, each failure more interesting.'
'I do not need to reach it.'
'I only need to walk toward it.'
'And that is enough.'