Chapter Six: The Story of Old Lin (Part One)

Fifty years ago, when I was only twenty-seven, I left home alone to seek my fortune. By a stroke of luck, I obtained a martial arts manual. Since then, I wandered the world, diligently cultivating the teachings of that book. Day after day, I trained relentlessly for ten years. At last, my perseverance paid off; after years of effort, I broke through to the ninth tier of martial mastery—the highest level for a martial artist. To reach such a realm at my age was an achievement unparalleled in history. I was almost certain I could ascend to the legendary Martial Sovereign realm, becoming the youngest sovereign in millennia.

At this point, Elder Lin's expression suddenly dimmed.

"Grandpa Lin, what’s wrong? What happened next? Did you fail to break through to the Martial Sovereign realm?" Lin Yanghao noticed the elder's gloomy demeanor and began to understand.

Elder Lin sighed deeply and continued, "After I reached the ninth tier, I felt nearly invincible. Martial Sovereigns secluded themselves, rarely seen, so I thought even if I encountered powerful martial artists, I could escape unscathed. With such confidence, I meddled freely in others’ affairs.

Shortly after attaining the ninth tier, I decided to train in the Chaoyang Mountains to consolidate my cultivation. As I approached the range, I witnessed a burly man chasing a scholarly-looking youth.

I intended to help the scholar, but before I could act, the burly man threw a yellow talisman in my direction and shouted, 'Lin!' Suddenly, a barrage of fireballs rushed at me. Shocked, I used all my internal energy to narrowly evade them, but there were too many—one struck my dantian directly. I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen but thought little of it.

Meanwhile, the scholar seized the opportunity: as the burly man attacked me, he struck the man’s head with his palm, killing him instantly.

The scholar, joyful at his victory, rushed over.

'Thank you for saving my life, brother. I am Bai Chen, eighth tier martial artist. May I ask your name?'

'I am Lin Xiangdong...' Before I could finish, I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

'Brother Lin, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Given your ninth-tier cultivation, you shouldn’t have been injured by those fireball talismans.' He hurried to examine my wounds. Soon, his face turned sorrowful.

'Alas, Brother Lin, it’s my fault. That fireball struck your dantian—now it’s damaged. I fear your cultivation can progress no further. What will you do?'

Upon hearing this, I was stunned, forgetting the pain as I shot up in alarm.

'Brother Lin, I’m sorry. By the way, which sect are you from?' Bai Chen asked.

'I am unaffiliated, a wandering cultivator. I chanced upon a martial arts manual, trained for ten years, and finally reached the ninth tier. I hoped to break through to Martial Sovereign in my lifetime, but now—this calamity has ruined me,' I replied in a low voice.

'Brother Lin, you saved my life. I am actually the young master of White Tiger Sect, one of the four great sects. If you don’t mind, you can join us as a guest elder. Moreover, our sect is guarded by Martial Sovereign elders—perhaps their wisdom might help heal your dantian.' Seeing I was unaffiliated, Bai Chen invited me to White Tiger Sect.

I considered it and thought perhaps a great sect might have a way to heal me, so I went with him. Once there, Bai Chen arranged for me to be a guest elder.

Bai Chen took me aside and explained, 'The man I killed was an enemy I made during my travels. He somehow learned I was the young master of White Tiger Sect and waited near our sect for me. He followed me to the Chaoyang Mountains, where he dared not attack. But once I left the range, he pursued me, as you saw.'

'Was he a Martial Sovereign? What was that yellow paper he threw—so powerful?' I asked.

'He was a cultivator, though his skills were low. True cultivators live secluded in places rich with spiritual energy, focused on their training. He used a common cultivator talisman. Brother Lin, did you not know cultivators exist in this world? Most ordinary people are aware,' Bai Chen explained.

I had always believed myself unmatched, yet a low-level cultivator crippled me. How could I have been so ignorant of their existence? Elder Lin sighed.

‘Didn’t Bai Chen say most people know about cultivators? How is it you traveled for decades and never learned of them?’ Lin Yanghao asked, now convinced cultivators truly existed.

Elder Lin replied, 'After obtaining the martial arts manual, I focused solely on cultivation. During my travels, I paid little attention to worldly affairs and never heard talk of cultivators, so I remained unaware.'

'Oh, Grandpa Lin, please go on—what happened next? Why did you seek me out?' Lin Yanghao pressed eagerly.

Elder Lin continued, 'I sought out many renowned physicians and scoured ancient texts, but found no cure for my dantian. The sect’s Martial Sovereign elders examined me yet could do nothing.

Ten years passed. In that time, I consumed countless rare herbs and treasures, but nothing helped; my dantian remained damaged.

Finally, I resolved to retire in my hometown. As I was about to leave, a frail old man in Daoist robes suddenly appeared before me.

‘Young man, would you like your fortune told?’ the Daoist asked with a smile.

‘Fortune telling? Go swindle someone else—I don’t buy it. Get out of my way!’ I was in a foul mood and showed no courtesy.

‘Hehe, young man, if you wish to restore your dantian, remember my words: “A broken mirror must be made whole; seek the place where it was shattered. Wait for one with fate, and ask when they will come—when the round mirror breaks, then shall they arrive.”’ The Daoist smiled, speaking gently, unruffled by my brusque manner.