Chapter Nine: Ten Years Later

He didn’t particularly dislike this place. The Peach Blossom Valley was beautiful, blessed with talent and spirit, and above all, he was especially fond of the two children who grew up beside him. Yet, as a great tree gifted with human thought, he felt no desire to remain here—much less to spend his days being worshipped as a sacred tree. He longed to leave, to search for a way to regain his human form.

This was a magical continent, overflowing with endless possibilities. Mu firmly believed that somewhere in this world there must exist a means for him to reclaim his humanity, for he held faith in the promise the Judge had once given him.

But where could he escape to? The mouth of the valley was sealed, and even if it weren’t, it would take more than another three thousand years to ‘walk’ there. The mountains flanking the valley were even more impossible—there was only one path forward.

The teleportation array.

As for where the other side of the array led, or whether it could transmit a tree as massive as himself, or if he would be discovered in transit—none of those questions mattered anymore.

All he could do was command every root, stretching desperately toward the teleportation array...

Ten hurried years slipped by in the blink of an eye.

In that decade, the ancient peach tree bloomed and withered in turn, while generations of cultivators came and went. What remained unchanged was the tree’s profusion of flowers and leaves, its vigor and majesty.

On this day, the Peachwood Sect welcomed a double blessing.

The first: Jin and Yu, both now eighteen, would undergo their coming-of-age ceremony. In truth, Jin was slightly older, nearly nineteen, but as the two had grown up together since childhood, their ceremonies were set for the same day.

The second was even more exhilarating for the entire sect: emissaries from the Daoist Order had arrived, both to witness the ceremony and to help the two build their foundations—that is, to become cultivators.

Foundation Establishment was a method the Daoist Order used to forcibly induce enlightenment in disciples of lesser aptitude, through the aid of elixirs and guidance from seasoned cultivators. Of course, those who advanced by this means, lacking true insight, would be less spiritually attuned than those who achieved enlightenment on their own, and their future cultivation would suffer for it.

Cultivators pursued the spark of awakening; thus, those who attained the Way beneath the sacred tree often accomplished more than others. But for disciples of mortal birth, the opportunity for Foundation Establishment was as rare as a once-in-a-lifetime miracle. For ordinary people, unless gifted with extraordinary talent, the path to immortality was harder than scaling the heavens.

Unlike the Daoist Orders, which boasted countless spiritual medicines, guidance from masters, and myriad cultivation techniques, such blessings were beyond the reach of mortals. Though Jin and Yu were considered gifted, they were born into the mortal sect and, despite spending their youth beside the sacred tree, had never glimpsed the secret of enlightenment.

Cultivation was about seizing the fleeting spark of inspiration—it might come in the next moment, or never at all in a lifetime. Foundation Establishment, however, forced that opportunity into existence through medicine and guidance. As long as one had potential, there was at least a fifty percent chance of success.

Now, with both at the brink of adulthood, this was their best and perhaps final chance. Failure meant never again being able to cultivate.

It was both an opportunity and a gamble.

In truth, the path of cultivation was always a gamble—staking everything on a single flash of realization. Given the choice, most would choose Foundation Establishment’s higher odds.

That the two had this chance was thanks to the generosity of Zhong Hui and Qi Yuyun, who had attained enlightenment and bestowed this favor. There was also a less public reason: in recent years, the Peachwood Daoist Order had been embroiled in a sectarian conflict with a rival order, suffering heavy casualties and desperately in need of new blood.

Foundation pills were rare, and cultivators willing to expend their spiritual energy to assist others even rarer. Without these reasons, Jin and Yu might never have received this opportunity.

On this day, the Peachwood Sect was especially festive, lanterns and banners everywhere, joy in every corner.

Early in the morning, the two elders led the youths to pay respects to the sacred tree. Both Jin and Yu, now adults, had changed greatly. Yu had blossomed into a graceful young woman, her childishness replaced by serenity. Jin had become a handsome youth, his mischievousness gone, replaced by an air of chivalry.

Jin’s family name was Feng; like Yu, Jin was his childhood nickname. His full name was Feng Jinduo, while Yu’s was Song Xinyu. Now that they had come of age, nicknames were no longer appropriate.

Once the rites were done, the two set the drunken little sparrow beneath the tree onto the altar before leaving—there was much to do, and today was the day their fates would change. Both were visibly anxious.

The little sparrow on the altar, however, slept soundly. For the past ten years, it had come at sunrise and left at sunset, never missing a day. The little fellow seemed addicted to its daily drunkenness and had earned a reputation as the “little drunkard.”

Mu paid the little drunkard no mind and continued his escape. With sect affairs strained by the ongoing conflict, most disciples stationed here had been called away—now was his best chance.

After ten years of diligent practice, Mu could now control his “body” with precision. Every branch and leaf, every root and blossom—he could move them at will. Yet that control was still a far cry from real freedom of movement.

Nevertheless, he pushed his perseverance to the utmost, inching forward day after day, year after year. Over the decade, he had managed to move himself some distance, though he wasn’t quite sure how far.

Had he moved a meter yet?

It didn’t seem quite enough.

But how could it not be? This question had plagued him recently. Though his goal was still centuries away, he remained fixated on this single meter.

Had he reached it yet? Surely, he must have.

From the direction of the Peachwood Sect, faint strains of festive music drifted—clearly, the celebration was beginning...

Deep in the night, two shadows suddenly flashed at the valley entrance, one after the other, running toward the heart of the valley.

Who would dare enter the valley by night? Such a thing had never happened—could something have happened at the sect?

As Mu wondered, the figures drew closer, and when he saw them clearly, he was even more shocked.

How could it be them?

It was none other than the day’s two protagonists—Feng Jinduo and Song Xinyu, newly come of age. After a day of ceremonies and foundation building, why were they here instead of resting at home?

As they approached, Mu noticed both their faces were streaked with tears.