Inside the self-made abode, the air was damp and cold, but it pressed against Xian's battered body like a crude, necessary embrace.
Finding a patch of even ground amidst the raw stone, Xian lowered himself carefully, his knees creaking with the motion.
He crossed his legs and settled into a meditative posture, exhaling a slow, turbid breath — thick with mist and stained faintly with blood.
Then, with a habitual motion, Xian rubbed his index finger against his thumbnail. A soft, almost imperceptible hum stirred the stagnant air.
From nothingness, two slender incense sticks with symbols appeared between his fingers — drawn from the hidden storage sealed within his flesh.
With a swift, practiced flick of his wrist, Xian ignited the incense sticks.
Thin trails of pale smoke unfurled instantly, coiling like spectral threads through the dim, damp air.
Without ceremony, he flicked his fingers again, sending the incense flying.
They struck the rocky ground with sharp precision, embedding themselves upright like slender, bone-thin needles.
The faint fragrance of burning herbs and ancient resins seeped into the cave, driving away the biting chill, wrapping Xian in a fragile cocoon of warmth and focus.
He closed his eyes, the lines of pain on his face easing just slightly, and began to breathe — slow, deliberate, drawing in the smoke, the cold, the silence itself.
Once his trembling body had stilled and his mind had settled, Xian willed it—and the System answered.
The air trembled and rippled once again.
...
[Uncollected rewards are now available. Please select your subject of retrieval.]
:: Pill of Nirvanic Reincarnation — A miraculous creation of Heaven and Earth, capable of severing past regrets and reversing one time and fate, infused with the abstract life essence of Nirvana and the death essence of Reincarnation.
:: Penetralia of Solitude — The lost legacy of the Blind Hermit, a cultivation method of the highest order, crafted for those who walk the lonely path, free of worldly entanglements. Rooted in the principle of drawing strength from within, it channels the natural currents of spiritual energy found in seclusion, allowing its practitioner to forge a solid foundation.
:: Spotless Dust Staff — A relic from forgotten times, plain in form yet shrouded in profound mystery. A Sealed Treasure, it harbors within its humble frame a will both ancient and pure. Though its true power remains dormant, whispers speak of winds that sweep the earth, and a presence that permits no corruption, no impurity, to remain.
...
Suspended between breath and thought, the three illusory items floated before him, spun from the void itself.
This time, Xian's gaze did not waver. When they had first appeared, he had been too unfocused and shocked to browse the information windows floating quietly beside them.
Now, calm as still water, Xian studied them with quiet composure.
Or at least, he tried.
Xian's eyes were glued to the wooden box. He read the description message over and over again, as if, by sheer repetition, he could somehow peel back the layers of mystery it held.
Through all his years in this realm, across countless hardships and along the winding paths of his cultivation, he had, of course, heard this term before.
Nirvana.
The miracle of rebirth. The severing of fate and desires.
A sacred pinnacle in the teachings of Buddhist cultivation — a transcendence beyond the shackles of mortality, the reshaping of one's destiny itself.
Among those who walked the path of cultivation, Nirvana was an immortal legend spoken in wonder and yearning.
In the public scriptures of the GotamaMonastery, a powerful Buddhist sect, it was said that the journey towards Nirvana began the moment one submitted to the teachings of Buddha.
To sever the chains of desire, to rise above the weight of ego, and to dissolve the very essence of the self into the unyielding, eternal truth.
Only then, the scriptures whispered, could one truly perceive the nature of existence and transcend the veil of suffering.
Of course, Xian didn't believe a word of it. Those were just the scams of the old farts .
Yet still, they may held some truth… as they were quite strong and formidable stubborn monks.
Returning to the present, Xian combed through the haze of his battered memories, searching for any mention — any whispered legend — about a Pill of Nirvana.
He found nothing. Not even the vaguest rumor.
A pill that could make oneself attain Nirvana... such a thing should have shaken the very heavens.
"...If those high-and-mighty Arhats caught wind of this pill..." Xian murmured, the corner of his mouth twitching in a wry smile. "So much for 'transcendence.''"
The thought alone — those serene, saintly monks, paragons of virtue in their golden robes, clawing at each other like starving beasts — was almost enough to make him laugh out loud.
Xian leaned back slightly, letting the thin smoke brush against his battered skin. His thoughts wondered about the miraculous pill.
Aside from Nirvana, there is another side, Reincarnation, which made him confused.
A pill that promised both Nirvana and Reincarnation?
It was a contradiction wrapped in a miracle...
Nirvana spoke of rebirth through the shedding of all attachments — a life beyond life. Reincarnation spoke of life after experiencing death — a second chance at life.
Both were, at their core and essence, 'life' — yet utterly different.
Was he meant to die first, only to be reborn into Nirvana? Will he be the same then? Will he attain immortality or?
Question after question, yet he held no answers.
The Heavens and Earth were vast, but the Dao was boundless — and any wrong step, any flawed understanding, could lead to great misfortune.
Perhaps even to a fatal end.
Xian feared that after all his struggles, he might lose himself to greed — or worse, be cast once more into the endless cycle of suffering after consuming the pill.
Yet truly… he was at his wits' end.
Feeling his composure beginning to crack, and the calming effects of the Tranquil Incense slowly waning, Xian couldn't help but let out a helpless smile.
"Truly... truly, the heavens are fair," Xian muttered, his voice laced with mockery.
Shaking his head in resignation, Xian's gaze drifted back to the wooden box holding the miraculous pill, a glimmer of hope — tainted with something darker — surfacing in his heart.
Without wasting another breath, he rubbed his thumbnail against his index finger, and a small red flag covered in spiritual inscriptions appeared in his grasp.
A Formation Flag.
Specifically, a concealment spell flag — a tool used to mask spiritual fluctuations and create a temporarily isolated space.
With a practiced motion, Xian flicked the flag toward the rocky wall.
The red cloth flared briefly with a soft glow before burning away into motes of light, leaving behind only a thin protruding stick embedded in the stone.
In the next instant, the cave fell into utter silence — sound, scent, and even the faintest ripple of spiritual energy sealed away, hidden from the world beyond.
Finishing his preparations, Xian took a slow, steady breath. His hand hovered for a moment over the illusory wooden box, its ethereal edges flickering like a mirage, before his fingers made contact.
The instant his skin brushed the box, it shuddered, The once-translucent illusion solidified with a faint crackling sound, and the box grew weighty in his palm, now tangible, real.
Then, something strange happened. The box... pulsed.
A soft, rhythmic thump.
Like a heartbeat, deep and resonating, echoing through Xian's palm, as though the box itself was alive, conscious.
Slowly, carefully, he lifted the lid of the box.
A faint whisper of sound followed, like the softest sigh of a being awakening from a long slumber.
Inside, there was no grand, glowing treasure — no vibrant, glittering pill of divine power. Instead, there was a single, very small, colorless pill nestled within the shadows of the box.
At first glance, it seemed almost… unremarkable. A tiny, translucent bead, no larger than a fingernail.
The colorless surface rippled, as if something was shifting within. Dark and golden lights flickered inside, like two legendary phoenixes locked in a battle for dominance.
Xian's eyes widened as he stared at the pill, the swirling darkness and gold within it stirring something deep inside him. It was beautiful. Terrifying.
Just gazing at it made his vitality churn with life, while his pain seemed to ease ever so slightly.
For a long moment, he didn't move. His gaze was locked on the barely visible pill, his mind a storm of conflicting thoughts.
Then, with a deep, steadying breath, Xian's hand moved.
His aged fingers closed around the pill, the smooth surface cold against his skin. There was no turning back now.
A fleeting image of his hundred years in this realm passed through his mind, a lifetime of struggle and sacrifice, all culminating in this singular moment.
Then —
Without hesitation, he raised the pill to his lips and swallowed it.
...
[COMING NEXT] - CHAPTER 5 - Quiet Nothingness
...
GLOSSARY -:-