After Martin left, Elder Augustine pushed open his door to collect some herbs. He stopped, staring at the area near the garden gate. Several blue-thread herbs had completely withered.
Curious, he walked closer and saw that not only the blue-thread herbs but also the purple-night flowers opposite them had wilted, though less severely.
He had checked at noon, and all the herbs had been thriving. Now, just an afternoon later, they were like this. He picked up a withered blue-thread herb and studied it. It seemed to have lost all its moisture. He frowned, touched the soil—it was still moist, perfectly suitable for herbs. That made him suspicious.
After a long moment, his eyes flashed. Only one person visited my garden this afternoon—that servant monk. How could he have made these herbs wither?
He decided to investigate. Without a second thought, he flicked his sleeve, rose into the air, and flew toward the servant monks' quarters.
Soon, he landed at the work assignment building. "Which monk is in charge here?" Elder Augustine's low voice thundered like thunder.
Lewis, the yellow-robed monk, ran out, terrified. He fell to his knees and kowtowed repeatedly.
Augustine frowned impatiently. "Do you have a registration for Martin Lynn?"
Lewis's heart pounded. He never expected a high elder to come asking about that useless boy. He thought of how he had mistreated Martin and turned pale, trembling. "I do, Elder. Brother Martin is diligent and hardworking. He is a model for us all. I… I look up to him…"
Augustine felt both annoyed and amused, but he was also pleased by the young man's fear. In truth, elders like Augustine were not highly valued. He was a second-generation disciple, but among the second generation, he was at the bottom. Even third-generation disciples looked down on him. That was why he had been assigned to handle servant monks' leave requests.
Putting on a stern face, Augustine said, "Which courtyard does Martin live in?"
"In the Earth auxiliary courtyard, north corner…"
Before he could finish, Augustine shot into the air and flew north, disappearing in an instant.
Lewis's heart pounded harder. He regretted everything. He vowed that if he ever saw Martin again, he would treat him like his own grandfather. The boy was important enough for an elder to visit personally.
Augustine arrived at the Earth courtyard, scanned with his holy sense, and did not find Martin. He went to the registration office, found Martin's room number, and went there directly. Henrik was sleeping soundly and did not notice Augustine's presence.
After thoroughly scanning the room, Augustine frowned and muttered, "He left quickly. I'll question him when he returns."
Meanwhile, Martin was walking through the mountains with the rune stuck to his leg. It was indeed magical. A warm energy flowed from the rune into his body, gathering in his feet, which glowed with bright white light. From a distance, he looked like a true holy monk.
The beasts in the forest saw the light and ran away.
A gentle breeze blew. The mountain air was fresh. Martin felt happy. He walked quickly, following the direction he remembered.
He traveled all night. At dawn, he drank some water from his gourd, felt refreshed, and looked back. He had already left the mountains. The county town was not far. From there, a small path led to his village.
He continued without stopping. By the time the sun was high, he had reached the county town. It was market day, crowded and lively. Martin walked around and bought gifts for his parents, then left.
At noon, he finally reached his village. From a distance, he saw a large red banner hanging outside his home, with a big "Long Life" character written on it. Many carriages were parked outside, and people were coming and going.
Martin walked quickly. When he reached the gate, a flash of white light announced his arrival, startling the relatives who had gathered to celebrate. They saw Martin appear before them.
Everyone showed envy and began praising him.
"Second Brother, Martin is back. Look at him—he already looks like a holy monk."
"Yes, the holy monks made a mistake at first, but they regretted it and accepted him. Our Lynn family's three boys—all of them will be great."
"I was blind not to see his qualities. Now I see that Martin is better than Sebastian in every way. Excellent!"
"Martin has been smart since childhood. I always said he would be accepted. The first time was just an accident. Even holy monks can make mistakes. Martin, don't resent your uncle. I apologize."
Everyone changed their tune, smiling warmly.
Martin sneered inwardly. His father came out, overjoyed. He took Martin's hand and said, "Allen, why did you come back? I told you to focus on the abbey, not worry about us."
Martin looked at his father and saw that the wrinkles on his face had decreased. He had clearly been happy lately. Martin smiled. "Don't worry, Father. Every disciple is allowed three home visits a year. After celebrating your birthday, I'll go back."
His father looked proudly at the relatives and led Martin inside. "Wife, look who's back."
Martin's mother was surrounded by women. She looked up, saw her son, and ran to him, hugging him and asking endless questions.
Martin felt warm inside. After a month of cold stares and mockery, he was finally home, surrounded by his parents' love.
"Second Brother, I was blind before. I said some harsh things. Don't take it to heart. You know me—sharp tongue but soft heart. I only wanted what was best for Martin."
"Sister-in-law, my daughter was angry when I told her I hadn't arranged a match. She insists on marrying Martin. Let's set the betrothal."
"Thomas, your son has done well. The future of the Lynn family rests on him. I tell you, he's better than your brother's boy."
Martin's parents beamed. Soon, the birthday feast began. Everyone praised Martin. Some, after a few drinks, even argued that Thomas should get back the inheritance that had been stolen from him. Thomas just smiled. He knew these relatives too well.
More importantly, he no longer cared about the past. He only wanted his son to succeed.
The celebration lasted all day. At dusk, the relatives left. Martin looked at the pile of gifts in the yard and felt deeply moved. He understood the saying: When one person rises to power, even his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven.
That night, his parents asked about life at the abbey. Martin saw the hope in their eyes and lied for the first time. He described how respected he was, how well he was doing. His parents were overjoyed.
For their sake, I will endure ten years of hard labor and the mockery of others, Martin vowed. They have never been this happy before.
Martin stayed at home for two days. On the third morning, with his parents and the whole village seeing him off, he stuck the rune to his leg and left.
Long after he had gone, the villagers' envious words still echoed in his ears.
That day was overcast. Dark clouds pressed down like stones on people's hearts. Thunder rumbled. The mountains were humid and misty. Martin quickened his pace. Late that night, he returned to St. Helman's Abbey.
He lay on his bed. Henrik was still snoring. Martin tossed and turned, unable to sleep. At midnight, lightning flashed, illuminating the room. Martin touched the bead in his robe. During his visit home, he had asked his mother to sew an inner pocket into his clothes, and he had placed the bead there.
He took out the stone bead and looked at it by lamplight. Then he paused, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the cloud patterns on the bead.
That's strange, he thought. Last time I looked, there were five clouds. Now there are six?
He sat up and counted carefully. Yes, six clouds.
He was amazed. He could not explain it. He treasured the bead even more. He put it back in his pocket and fell asleep.
Outside, wind howled, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and rain poured down. The window rattled. Martin woke up, shivering from a cold, damp chill. He opened his eyes and was stunned.
Lightning lit up the room. It was filled with thick mist. The table, the floor, even the bedding was soaked. But Martin was only damp on his chest. He looked at Henrik. Henrik was covered in white frost. His clothes were soaked. His face was purple. His teeth chattered. He was unconscious, barely breathing.
"Henrik! Henrik!" Martin pushed him, but Henrik did not wake.
Panicked, Martin was about to go find help when he stopped. He touched his own clothes. Why am I not wet? The bedding is soaked, but except for my chest, my clothes are dry.
He looked down at his chest, thought quickly, and took out the stone bead.
In that instant, every drop of water in the room trembled, then rose into the air. Even Henrik's body emitted white mist that formed into droplets. Another flash of lightning. Martin watched in amazement as the droplets sparkled, then shot toward the stone bead in his hand.
Martin threw the bead away and ducked.
The stone bead arched through the air, fell to the floor, and rolled. All the water droplets shot into it and vanished.
Soon, all the water in the room was gone. The bedding was dry. Henrik's breathing returned to normal.
Outside, the rain continued, but the sky was no longer pitch black. Moonlight shone through. Martin stood up, hesitated, then carefully picked up the stone bead. He examined it closely.
The cloud patterns had become seven.
The scene he had just witnessed filled him with both curiosity and fear. If he had not woken up and taken out the bead, Henrik might have frozen to death.
As for why he himself had been unaffected, Martin guessed it was because he often drank water and dew infused with the bead.
He was intensely curious about the cloud patterns. What did they do? He thought about going outside to let the bead absorb more rainwater but worried that such a strange sight would attract attention.
He carefully put the bead back in his pocket. Soon, dawn came. Martin was about to go to the work assignment building when Henrik suddenly sat up and shouted, "Water! Water! I'm dying of thirst!"
He stumbled to the table and tried to pour water from the jug, but nothing came out. He looked around, saw the wrinkled, dry bedding, and said to Martin, dazed, "Martin, when did you get back? Did a drought demon visit our room?"
Martin smiled bitterly. He opened the door. "I don't know. It was like this when I got back. Maybe you should ask the other monks. But if you tell the elders, they'll question you. It'll be a hassle."
Henrik shook his head. "Forget it. I don't want to be interrogated."
Martin said nothing. He walked out. It was still drizzling. He hurried, taking small paths, avoiding attention. All the raindrops that landed on him were absorbed by the bead. He was nervous, afraid someone might notice.
He went to the place where he had hidden his dew gourds. Fortunately, it was still early. Few people were out. He hid the bead there.
Only then did he relax. He would wait for the rain to stop before retrieving his treasure.
He went to the work assignment building. Just as he picked up his buckets, Lewis's door creaked open. The weasel-faced man saw Martin, looked surprised, then showed great warmth. He took the buckets from Martin's hands and said, "Brother Martin, how are you? How are your parents? I've missed you while you were away."
Martin was surprised. He recognized the same fawning faces he had seen among his relatives. Why is he acting like this?
"Brother Lewis, my parents are fine. Thank you for asking."
"Brother Martin, you don't have to get up so early. And about those ten vats—I was just joking. From now on, just one vat a day. And don't worry about whether it's full. When it's time to eat, go eat. If anyone gives you trouble, just say my name. It'll be fine."
Martin looked at him strangely. "Brother Lewis, is there something you want me to do?"
Lewis pretended to be offended. "Brother, why are you so formal? Can't I just care about you? You're my junior. From now on, your problems are my problems. Don't worry about the work. And by the way, Elder Augustine came looking for you a few days ago. Now that you're back, you should report to him."
Martin thought for a moment, then smiled knowingly. So the elder had come looking for him, and Lewis had misunderstood. Martin did not correct him. He grunted like Lewis used to.
Lewis grew even more certain that Martin had connections with the elder. He had never seen an elder personally visit a servant monk. He was afraid.
He gritted his teeth and took out a yellow rune—the same kind used for home visits—and gave it to Martin. "A small gift. Please take it."
Martin took it. "Brother Lewis, your kindness is appreciated. But the elder is waiting. I'll come back tomorrow."
Lewis nodded enviously. "Of course. The elder is important. Go."
Martin walked toward the main courtyard, thinking. Why did Elder Augustine come looking for me?
He considered many possibilities. Then he stopped. What if he discovered my stone bead?
He thought for a while. If he did not go, it would only raise more suspicion. The bead was not on him. He would act innocent. He walked on.
Soon, he reached the main courtyard. The same white-robed youth appeared. He sneered. "Coming home again?"
Martin raised an eyebrow. Before he could speak, Elder Augustine's voice came from inside. "Bring him to me immediately. Do not delay."
The youth looked at Martin curiously, then led him inside.
In the garden, Augustine stood in front of his room. He looked Martin up and down. Under that gaze, Martin felt as if he were transparent.
Augustine frowned. He sensed nothing unusual. "Martin, when did you return?"
Martin quickly said, "Last night. Brother Lewis told me this morning that you were looking for me, so I came at once."
Augustine grabbed Martin without a word, stepped onto a cloud, and flew toward Martin's room.
The speed was so fast that Martin could barely breathe. Soon, they arrived. Augustine threw Martin aside and scanned the room with his holy sense.
"Hmm?" Augustine moved to Martin's bed and pulled out a gourd from under the mattress—the one filled with spring water.
Martin kept his face calm, but his heart pounded. He tried to think of an excuse.
Augustine examined the gourd carefully. He looked at Martin. "Martin, what is in this gourd?"
Martin pretended to be naive. "Elder, that's spring water from the mountain. It's magical. When I'm tired, I drink it and feel full of energy. I read in a book that holy monks' things are all good. Even the spring water is magical. If you want spring water, the work building has ten huge vats of it. I carried it all from the mountain."
Augustine opened the gourd and smelled it. His expression changed dramatically. "I'm not asking about the water. Tell me, where did you find this gourd? Quickly!"
Martin acted confused. "Elder, is something wrong with the gourd? I saw it floating downstream while I was carrying water. It looked nice, so I picked it up."
Augustine narrowed his eyes and gave Martin a meaningful look. He touched the gourd and thought to himself, This gourd is filled with holy energy. The water inside has been infused with it. A mortal who drinks it won't know how to absorb the energy, but it would make him feel refreshed. He's not lying about that. But using it for such a purpose is a waste. If I used it to make elixirs, the effect would be good.
As for the withered herbs, they might be related to this gourd. But I need to test that.
He then examined the gourd more closely. He put on a stern face and said darkly, "Martin, you are very bold to lie to an elder. Do you want to be expelled from St. Helman's?"
Martin looked confused. "Elder, I'm not lying. The work building really has ten huge vats of water…"
Augustine laughed in anger. "You're still pretending. I'm asking about this gourd. The stem is freshly broken. You didn't find it floating. I'll give you one last chance. Tell me where you got this gourd, or I'll expel you today."
Martin showed anger, as if he had given up. "Fine, expel me. All I do is carry water. I often don't eat for a week. If not for my mother's sweet potatoes, I would have starved. This isn't cultivation. It's torture. I picked this gourd out of the water. If you want it, take it. Why accuse me of lying? The stem could have been broken by someone else. How should I know?"
Augustine looked at the remaining sweet potatoes in Martin's bundle, then at the gourd. He thought for a moment. I want this gourd, but if I take it and expel him, word will spread, and I'll lose face. Worse, if other monks find out, they'll want a share, and I can't compete with them. I cannot let them know about this. And this boy is still not telling the truth. There must be more than one gourd. If I get them all, I can make elixirs and greatly increase my power.
He quickly put on a surprised expression and sighed. "You've had a hard time. I didn't know you often went without food. I will look into this. Servant monks are still disciples of St. Helman's."
Seeing that Martin was still angry, Augustine said kindly, "Martin, I want this gourd. But I won't treat you unfairly. Would you like to be my assistant?"
Martin said sullenly, "No. An assistant is just a servant. My father would beat me if I became a servant."
Augustine nearly lost his temper. He was a second-generation disciple. If he announced he wanted an assistant, servant monks would line up for the chance.
He suppressed his anger and said, "Fine. I will accept you as my disciple. I'll tell the Abbot. Pack your things and come to my garden."
He flicked his sleeve and left, flying toward the Abbot.
After he left, Martin's face darkened. He sneered. The old man was up to something. He wanted more gourds.
Martin thought for a moment and smiled. Gourds are easy. The mountain is full of them. I can use the bead to infuse them. For now, becoming a full disciple is an opportunity to cultivate.
He was excited. He packed his things, left some sweet potatoes for Henrik, and walked unhurriedly to the main courtyard.
This time, he did not announce himself. He walked straight in. The white-robed youth sat on a tree in the corner. He looked down and did not stop Martin. The Abbot had already announced that Augustine was taking Martin as his disciple. The youth sneered, "A garbage master takes a garbage disciple. A perfect match."
In the garden, Martin waited. Soon, Augustine returned. He was in a bad mood. He had been mocked by his fellow monks when he told the Abbot.
Once I get all the gourds and make elixirs, my power will increase, and they won't laugh anymore, he thought.
When he saw Martin, he grew even angrier. "Martin, from today on, you are my disciple, Augustine St. Cloud. Cultivate well. Do not disgrace my name." He threw a small pouch. "This is your full disciple token. It's also a storage pouch. Your robe and cultivation manual are inside."
Martin caught it, his heart pounding with excitement. He finally had the chance to cultivate the holy light. He called Augustine "Master" sincerely.
Augustine grunted. "You'll live in the back room. Do not leave without my permission."
He picked up a stone, threw it at the garden gate, and a purple light flashed. The stone shattered into powder.
Augustine sneered at Martin, then went into his room.
Martin's eyes widened. He put the storage pouch in his robe and went to his new room. It was small, with only a bed. Martin did not mind. He sat on the bed and examined the pouch.
He turned it upside down. A red robe and a thin booklet fell out. Martin smiled and picked up the booklet.
On the first page: The Three Chapters of Gathering Holy Light.
He read late into the night, then lit an oil lamp and closed the booklet. He now understood the basics of cultivating holy light. The three chapters described three levels. It was the most basic method. The Gathering Light stage had fifteen levels. Only after reaching the third level would he receive further teachings.
Gathering Light meant breathing in the holy energy of the world, storing it in the body, and transforming the mortal body to build a foundation for the future.
This was where aptitude mattered most. Those with strong holy light affinity absorbed energy quickly. Those with weak affinity might never reach the third level, or even the first.
Martin memorized the first three levels and began to practice the special breathing method: long inhale, short exhale. The booklet said that during the first breath, one might feel a crawling sensation as holy energy entered the body.
After a long time, Martin felt nothing except being out of breath.
He sighed. Full disciples all had strong affinity. The booklet was written for them. With his weak affinity, he could not compare.
But he did not give up. He caught his breath and continued.
All night passed. By morning, he still felt nothing. He had not slept. His head was heavy. He got up and went outside.
The air was fresh, filled with the scent of herbs. He took a deep breath and felt slightly refreshed. He missed his gourd of spring water. A few sips would have helped.
But now was not the time. He was confident in his hiding place for the stone bead and the gourds. He had searched half the mountain to find that secluded spot. Even if someone passed by, they would not find his treasures.
He found a bare spot in the garden and sat down to breathe again. After a while, a faint crawling sensation appeared. Martin was stunned, then overjoyed. But before he could continue, Augustine's angry voice came. "Martin, what are you doing? Get out! Do not cultivate in my herb garden."
Martin opened his eyes. Augustine glared at him. Martin said nothing and left the garden.
Augustine snorted. "You found a good spot. This garden has the densest holy energy. If you absorb it all and my herbs die, your little life isn't worth enough to pay for them."
Martin looked at Augustine and said respectfully, "Disciple did not know. I will never cultivate here again."
Augustine's expression softened slightly. He said suddenly, "But if you get me another gourd, I will give you a low-grade holy crystal. With it, gathering holy light will be much easier."
Martin looked down, hiding the sarcasm in his eyes. "Disciple can go to the spring again. With luck, I might find another."
Augustine thought for a moment. "Go and look. Remember, bring me a gourd, and I will give you a low-grade holy crystal."
Martin looked up. "Master, do you swear? If I bring a gourd, you will give me a crystal?"
Augustine's face lit up. "Yes. When I see the gourd, I will give you a low-grade holy crystal."
Martin smiled inwardly but bowed respectfully. He nodded.
Augustine made a gesture, muttered something, and the garden gate opened. He stroked his beard and smiled. "Go. Return quickly."
Martin left. He walked through the abbey in his red full disciple robe. The servant monks stared at him with envy, but when they saw who it was, their expressions turned to contempt and jealousy.
"He got in by trying to kill himself, and now he's a full disciple? What luck."
"He probably groveled and licked boots to get it. So shameful."
"Look at his stupid face. Even as a full disciple, he'll be last. Cultivation isn't that easy."
"Don't worry. Full disciples have competitions. We'll see him fail."
Martin heard the whispers. He looked coldly at them, memorizing every face. He would repay them when he was strong enough.
He went out the east gate and walked to the spring. He splashed water on his face, then drank some. He sat down and began to breathe.
Not far away, Augustine crouched in a tree, watching. He muttered, "The little bastard said he was looking for a gourd, and here he sits, waiting for one to float downstream."
Augustine had followed Martin, hoping to see where he found gourds. But Martin just sat and cultivated.
The holy energy here was slightly denser than in his room. Martin knew that gathering holy light was simply about accumulating energy. His aptitude was weak, but he could make up for it with time.
He breathed until noon. The crawling sensation still had not appeared. He stood up, looked around, and knew Augustine was watching. He pretended to look for gourds, then walked back to the abbey.
Augustine, frustrated, returned to the garden before Martin.
Soon, Martin came back. Augustine forced a smile. "Disciple, did you find a gourd?"
Martin sighed. "No, Master. I waited by the spring all morning, but nothing floated by. I'll go again this afternoon. Maybe I'll get lucky."
Augustine thought, You spent the morning with your eyes closed. You wouldn't have seen a gourd if it floated right past you. But he said kindly, "Good. Eat first, then go."
Martin went to his room. There was a table with four dishes and soup. He ate quickly, then napped.
Augustine appeared like a ghost. He looked at Martin with cruel eyes. I can't poison him because the rules would catch me, but I can put herbs in his food that block his absorption of holy energy. He already has weak affinity. With these herbs, he'll never reach level three. Then I'll have him forever.
An hour later, Martin woke. He went to the spring again and cultivated. At sunset, he stood up, paced by the spring, then walked into the forest.
Augustine, hidden in a tree, perked up and followed silently.
Martin wandered through the forest, looking around. Suddenly, he smiled and went to a patch of wild gourds. He picked a nice-looking one and walked back.
After he left, Augustine came to the spot. He looked at the gourds and could not see anything special. He picked a few, memorized the location, and followed Martin.
Back in the garden, Martin gave the gourd to Augustine. "Master, I didn't find one in the spring, but I saw these in the forest. This one looks like the gourd I had before."
Augustine nearly lost his temper. He forced a stiff smile. "I want a gourd filled with holy energy, like the one you had. This wild gourd is useless!"
Martin looked confused. "I don't know what holy energy is. You said you'd give me a crystal if I found a gourd. Can you tell me what holy energy is?"
Augustine felt dizzy. He looked at Martin and began to doubt his own guess. Maybe the first gourd was a one-time find. This boy really didn't know.
He sighed. He had put herbs in Martin's food to slow his cultivation. Now Martin might take decades to reach the first level.
Reluctantly, he took a low-grade holy crystal from his storage pouch and gave it to Martin. "This is the crystal I promised. Go cultivate. Reach the first level as soon as you can."
Martin thanked him and went to his room.
Augustine stood there, then sighed. I'll have to use the last resort. I'll help him reach the first level. Once he becomes a true cultivator, I will use mind-reading magic on him. It will harm my own cultivation, but I must know the truth.
Mind-reading magic was forbidden. It could kill or leave the victim brain-damaged. And it could only be used on mortals by those of a high level, with a heavy price.
In his room, Martin held the crystal. It did not look special, but holding it made his mind clear. He closed his eyes and breathed.
All night passed. Still nothing. He sighed. The door opened. Augustine came in with a bowl of black liquid.
"Drink it."
Martin hesitated. "Master, what is it?"
Augustine shouted, "Do you think I would poison you? Drink it. I stayed up all night making this from precious herbs. It will help you reach the first level."
Martin drank it. Heat spread through his body. He felt dizzy.
"Now breathe. I will help you absorb it." Augustine put his hand on Martin's chest.
A cool energy spread from his chest. Martin breathed. Augustine placed several holy crystals around him, thinking, I've invested a lot in you. You will repay me.
Soon, a faint crawling sensation appeared. Augustine felt holy energy gathering in Martin's body. He smiled.
Then a foul energy emerged from Martin and dispersed the holy energy. Augustine recognized it. It was from the herb he had put in Martin's food. He tried again, but the holy energy would not gather.
Augustine sighed, removed his hand, and looked at Martin with mixed feelings.
Martin opened his eyes. He felt light and comfortable. He wanted to thank Augustine, but Augustine flicked his sleeve and left without a word.
Martin was confused. He went outside and called, "Master, I'll go to the spring and see if I find a gourd."
Augustine said nothing, but the garden gate opened. Martin left. Augustine followed secretly.
A month passed. Every day, Martin went to the spring and cultivated. Augustine watched every day. Day after day, his hope faded.
Every day, Augustine made herbal concoctions for Martin, but the holy energy would not gather. Augustine's temper grew worse.
More importantly, the gourd he had taken from Martin lost all its holy energy within a month. The water inside became ordinary. The gourd became like any wild gourd. Augustine was greatly disappointed.
He concluded that the gourd itself was not special. It had been infused by some process. Martin had probably found it by chance. It was unlikely he had more.
Augustine felt he had wasted his time. He called Martin, scolded him, and expelled him from the main courtyard.
He could not stand to look at Martin anymore. Soon, he forgot about him.
Martin was happy to be free. He heard the servant monks' mockery but ignored it. He had learned much about cultivation in the past month.
He knew the five levels: Gathering Light, Building Foundation, Forming the Holy Core, Manifesting the Divine Soul, and Holy Incarnation. St. Helman's Abbey had only two who had reached the Forming the Holy Core level. They lived deep in the back mountain, always meditating. There were fewer than ten at the Building Foundation level. Most were at the Gathering Light level. Even Augustine was only at the fifth level of Gathering Light.
Cultivation was difficult. It required enormous time. With weak affinity, a mortal lifetime was not enough.
Martin knew the importance of holy energy. He was eager to retrieve his stone bead.
He had not yet gathered any holy energy, but he believed that drinking the bead-infused water would speed his progress. The bead's dew was even more potent.
As a full disciple, even though he no longer lived in the main courtyard, he could find a room in one of the five auxiliary courtyards. He chose the Fire courtyard near the east gate, found a remote room, and settled there.
Full disciples received benefits. On the tenth of each month, they could go to the main courtyard's alchemy hall to receive a low-grade holy crystal fragment and an elixir called Light-Gathering Pill.
Martin did not immediately retrieve his bead. He suspected Augustine might still be watching. He went to the spring every day and cultivated at night.
Augustine did watch for another ten days, but eventually gave up completely.
A month later, one night, Martin quietly left. He went to his hiding place and retrieved the stone bead and the gourds. He put them in his storage pouch, where no one could see.
He waited a few days. No one noticed. He relaxed. He stopped going to the spring and stayed home, studying the bead.
The bead now had nine cloud patterns. The three gourds had turned thick, especially the morning dew gourd, which was almost jelly-like.
Martin looked at the bead and the gourds. He had an idea. The bead needed water to increase its clouds. What if he used the dew from the gourds to feed the bead? Would it create the tenth cloud?
His heart raced. The bead was small. Nine clouds covered almost the entire surface, leaving only a fingernail-sized space. He guessed that was where the tenth cloud would appear.
He was very curious about what would happen when the tenth cloud appeared. There was no room for an eleventh, so the tenth might be the last.
But today was the tenth of the month—the day to collect his holy crystal and elixir. It was almost dark. Martin carefully put the bead and gourds in his storage pouch, tucked it into his robe, and left his room.
He knew the abbey's paths well. Soon, he reached the main courtyard. Before dark, he hurried to the alchemy hall.
As he approached, he heard a familiar voice.
"Sister Giana, my master told me to meditate for three months to reach the first level of Gathering Light, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I finally reached the first level last night. I went into the mountain to pick this flower for you. Look how beautiful the petals are. A huge snake was guarding it. I struggled to kill it. Look at my arm—I was wounded."
Martin's footsteps paused. He frowned, then smiled coldly and walked on.
A clear, bell-like female voice replied, "Brother Sebastian, my family has been in medicine for generations. This is just common tomorrow-fragrance. I see it everywhere on the mountain. This is the first time I've heard that snakes like to guard it. If that were true, the mountain would be full of snakes. Sister Giana, don't believe him."
Martin entered the alchemy hall garden. There were four people there, two men and two women, all in red robes.
One of the men was handsome and well-dressed. He looked embarrassed, then his eyes fixed on the gate. He stared in disbelief. "Martin? What are you doing here? You should be at home doing carpentry."
"So you're Martin. The one who got in by trying to kill himself, then became Elder Augustine's disciple by groveling," a girl with a big braid said, covering her mouth in surprise.
The other two also looked at Martin with curiosity. One girl had beautiful, childlike eyes. She looked at Martin with interest.
Martin looked at them expressionlessly. He recognized the girl who had spoken—she had passed the aptitude test months ago. The other girl must be the one Sebastian was trying to impress.
He ignored them and walked toward the alchemy hall.