The dawn sun painted Mount Tai's slopes in hues of amber and gold, but Li Wei barely noticed. His body ached from days of sleeping on the hard ground, and his stomach still grumbled from the questionable "Spirit Root Herb" he'd consumed. Yet, his resolve remained unshaken. The scroll lay open beside his makeshift camp, its cryptic passages fueling his determination to master the art of cultivation. He was deep into a meditation session, perched on a smooth boulder in his secluded clearing, when the crunch of footsteps shattered his focus.
Li Wei's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. The forest was usually quiet at this hour, save for the chatter of birds or the occasional scurry of a squirrel. But these steps were deliberate, heavy—human. He scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt from his tattered jeans, and peered through the trees. A figure emerged from the trail: a stocky man in his late twenties, dressed in flashy hiking gear, a sleek backpack slung over one shoulder. His face was set in a smirk, and his eyes gleamed with amusement as they landed on Li Wei's disheveled appearance—wild hair, dirt-streaked face, and a threadbare shirt that hadn't seen a wash in days.
"Oi, what's this? Some kind of cosplay?" the man called out, his voice dripping with mockery. He stopped a few paces away, hands on his hips, eyeing the crude altar of stones Li Wei had built for his rituals. "You one of those wannabe monks pretending to talk to spirits?"
Li Wei's cheeks flushed, but he squared his shoulders, clutching the scroll protectively. "I'm cultivating," he said, his voice steady despite the embarrassment creeping in. "This is the path to immortality, not some game."
The hiker snorted, stepping closer to inspect the altar. "Immortality? Mate, you look like you're one bad meal away from a hospital bed. What's that, some fake antique you bought off a street vendor?" He gestured at the scroll, his grin widening.
Li Wei bristled. The scroll was his lifeline, his proof that there was more to life than the mundane grind he'd abandoned in Beijing. "You wouldn't understand," he snapped. "This is ancient wisdom, not a tourist trinket. I'm gathering qi, refining my spirit—"
"Qi? Oh, come on!" The man laughed, a loud, grating sound that echoed through the clearing. "You're out here playing wizard in the woods while the rest of us are, you know, living in the real world. Bet you're just dodging a desk job, huh?"
The words stung, hitting too close to the doubts Li Wei buried deep. He clenched his fists, the faint warmth of yesterday's qi tingling in his palms—or was it just anger? The scroll spoke of rivals, cultivators who challenged one's resolve to test their worthiness. This man, with his smug attitude and expensive gear, was no cultivator, but Li Wei decided he was a rival nonetheless. A test sent by the heavens.
"Leave," Li Wei said, his voice low, adopting a stance he'd seen in a martial arts drama, one hand raised as if channeling energy. "You're disturbing my practice."
The hiker raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Oh, you're gonna fight me with your magic powers? Go on, then, show me some of that 'qi' you're gathering." He stepped forward, puffing out his chest, daring Li Wei to act.
Li Wei's mind raced. The scroll hadn't covered combat yet, only vague references to "projecting qi" and "overcoming obstacles." But he couldn't back down—not now, not when his path felt so fragile. He took a deep breath, mimicking the Celestial Crane Posture from his earlier practice, and focused on the warmth in his core. He imagined it surging outward, a wave of energy to push this intruder back. "Begone!" he shouted, thrusting his hands forward dramatically.
The hiker stared, then burst into laughter. "What was that, a Jedi move?" he mocked, stepping closer. Li Wei, caught up in his fervor, lunged forward, intending to "channel his qi" into a shove. Instead, his foot caught on an exposed root, and he stumbled, arms flailing, landing face-first in the dirt with a muffled thud.
The hiker doubled over, laughing so hard he clutched his sides. "Oh, man, that was priceless! You're a legend, mate!" He pulled out his phone, snapping a photo of Li Wei sprawled on the ground. "This is going viral, hermit boy."
Humiliation burned hotter than any qi. Li Wei scrambled to his feet, spitting out dirt, his face crimson. "Get out!" he roared, grabbing a stick and brandishing it like a sword. The hiker, still chuckling, raised his hands in mock surrender and backed away, disappearing down the trail with a final taunt: "Keep chasing those fairies, buddy!"
Li Wei stood there, panting, the stick trembling in his grip. The clearing felt smaller, the forest less sacred. He dropped to his knees, the scroll clutched tightly, and forced himself to breathe. This was no ordinary humiliation—it was a heavenly test, he told himself. The scroll warned of trials, of rivals who would mock the path to immortality. That hiker was no cultivator, but his scorn was a crucible, tempering Li Wei's resolve.
He returned to his boulder, forcing his shaking hands to steady as he opened the scroll. "The path is fraught with obstacles," it read. "Only the steadfast will ascend." Li Wei nodded, wiping dirt from his cheek. The hiker's laughter echoed in his mind, but he pushed it aside, replacing it with a vow. He would train harder, meditate longer, refine his qi until no one could mock him. That man would return one day, Li Wei imagined, and find not a stumbling fool but a true cultivator, radiant with power.
As dusk settled over Mount Tai, Li Wei resumed his meditation, the scroll's words his anchor. The warmth in his core flickered faintly, a reminder of his progress. He closed his eyes, visualizing the hiker's smug face, and channeled his anger into focus. This was no defeat. It was the beginning of his revenge—a revenge not of violence, but of transcendence. The heavens had tested him, and he would not fail.