Chapter Ten: Refining Essence into Qi

In guiding his young apprentice Ye Yun along the path of cultivation, Ye Yu had truly spared no effort over the past two years. The situation at the tea house in Xinshui Town had long since been thoroughly investigated by him; placing Ye Yun there as a servant was intended to temper the boy’s character.

Faced with the choice between working as a servant or becoming a beggar, Ye Yun, though only eight years old, understood well enough to choose the path that retained a modicum of dignity. To his surprise, events unfolded exactly as Master Ye Yu had predicted: the tea house manager, a kind-hearted person, was moved by Ye Yun’s pitiful appearance and, coupled with Ye Yu’s embellishments regarding the hardships of an orphaned child, decided to take him in.

“Master truly has the gift of foresight,” Ye Yun thought.

Being a servant was not easy. Though the heavier tasks were left to adults, Ye Yun’s duties in the tea house hall—serving tea, clearing tables—left him exhausted by day’s end. Fortunately, he was not truly a destitute child; after work each day, he rarely ventured out but instead remained in his room, diligently practicing the Crimson Flame Demon Art to strengthen the thread of crimson flame energy within him.

There were no spare rooms in the tea house; a humble, dusty woodshed was cleaned out for Ye Yun’s use. In the past two years, he had lived in Yunshui City like the young master of a great family, enjoying fine food and clothing. The abrupt change was hard to adjust to—now he ate the simplest fare and lacked warmth, a hardship that would have caused most eight-year-olds to weep and throw tantrums.

Yet he persevered, driven by stubborn resolve. The lessons instilled by his father, Ye Zili, and the guidance of Master Ye Yu had forged a steadfast character. Even knowing he would suffer cold and hardship, he remained, determined to fulfill his master’s assignment.

Each day he was worn out, but with the Crimson Flame Demon Art, he could dispel fatigue and wake refreshed. Yet, being only eight, his diet was inadequate for cultivation, causing his progress to stall.

“The Crimson Flame Demon Mark must be fully condensed to reach the initial stage of Qi Refining. Originally, I expected to achieve this in about nineteen days, but refining essence into Qi requires food rich in vitality. Drawing only from heaven and earth yields little; at this rate, even a month may not be enough to fully condense the Demon Mark.”

Three days later, Ye Yun sat deep in thought in the woodshed. Night had fallen, the moon hung high, and moonlight seeped through the cracks, bathing him in silver light.

In just three days, Ye Yun had grown noticeably thinner. He was still at the age of growth, and cultivating the Crimson Flame Demon Art further depleted his vitality, making the poor diet even more detrimental.

Though the tea house manager had shown him much kindness—giving him meat at every meal, a privilege envied by the other servants—it was still far from sufficient for Ye Yun’s needs.

If this continued, not only would his cultivation stagnate, but his physical growth would suffer. Master had sent him to be a servant to temper his heart, not to harm him. What should he do to escape this predicament?

Without parents or master at his side, Ye Yun had to devise a solution alone. Master Ye Yu had told him that everything depended on his own efforts—be it food or clothing, the best must be earned.

He was well-read and understood many principles, but being only eight, he struggled to find a good solution. After a while, he immersed himself in cultivation, and the night passed quietly.

Breakfast was a bowl of plain porridge, steaming white buns, and pickled vegetables. For ordinary folk, such fare was normal, even decent, but for Ye Yun, it filled his belly but was of no use otherwise.

Working the Crimson Flame Demon Art yielded little vitality from such food. If he wished not to delay his cultivation, he had to draw from his own body’s store of energy, weakening his constitution.

Cultivators could absorb energy from heaven and earth, but at his nascent stage, Ye Yun could only take in a small amount. Only upon breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage would he have all his pores connected to heaven and earth, allowing him to breathe in spiritual energy directly, without relying on food.

One must eat bite by bite, walk step by step; so too must the immortal path be trodden steadily and methodically.

Another three days passed, and Ye Yun had grown almost skeletal, alarming the tea house manager.

“Wife, the boy was healthy when he arrived—how has he become so thin and sallow in just six days?” the manager asked, troubled.

“Perhaps the work is too much for him; he is just a child,” his wife replied.

Even as outsiders, the couple were deeply concerned. Master Ye Yu, who had always watched over Ye Yun from the shadows, felt even greater distress.

“It seems I’ve been too hasty. The child is only eight, well-read but inexperienced, and his inability to adapt is understandable.”

Watching Ye Yun’s health deteriorate so quickly, Ye Yu’s heart ached more than anyone’s. At night, Ye Yun continued his cultivation in the woodshed, relying on his own vitality to fuel the Crimson Flame Demon Art, lest he fall behind.

“Foolish child, what are you doing exhausting your own body like this?”

In the dim woodshed, a familiar voice suddenly reached Ye Yun. Before he could react, a warm, broad hand pressed gently against his back, sending a comforting wave of energy through him, as though he were cradled in his master’s arms.

The vital energy lost during those six days of cultivation was restored in moments; Ye Yun’s body recovered, though he remained thin, and the hidden dangers from depleted vitality were erased.

“Master, you finally came to see me!” Ye Yun opened his eyes, tears streaming, and threw himself into his master’s embrace, sobbing quietly. He was still a child, needing affection and reassurance.

After seven centuries of stormy trials, Grandmaster Ye Yu had thought his heart hardened, but since taking Ye Yun as his disciple, his tenderness had begun to show. Now his heart brimmed with love, yearning to comfort his beloved pupil. Yet his mind remained clear—if Ye Yun was to become great, he must not be spoiled.

Love must be held in the heart; indulgence, though a form of love, does more harm than good.

Suddenly, Ye Yu pushed the sobbing Ye Yun away. The eight-year-old staggered, nearly falling, his bright eyes shining with tears and confusion as he looked at his master.

He did not understand why the master who had always cherished him would push him away at his weakest.

“Yun’er, do you know your mistake?” Ye Yu forced himself to be stern, schooling his expression.

“Where… where did I go wrong?” Ye Yun pouted, feeling aggrieved.

“Where did you go wrong?” Ye Yu continued, face stern. “I had you read books for two years—do you not know the taboos of refining essence into Qi?”

“To cultivate by sacrificing your own vitality, as you have done, will lead to death within a month!” Ye Yu rebuked him harshly.

“Yun’er only wanted to complete the task Master gave me. Yun’er doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Ye Yun argued.

“By doing this, you have already disappointed me. Tell me, is my task more important, or is your life more important?” Ye Yu demanded.

But in that moment, Ye Yun’s answer struck Ye Yu’s heart like a bolt of lightning.