Space twisted. The next instant...
The examination arena disappeared. Mo Xuan's vision cleared. He found himself standing inside a quiet courtyard surrounded by bamboo. A stone table sat beneath an old tree.
Han Long was already seated there, drinking leisurely from his wine gourd.
Mo Xuan looked around.
Han Long grinned and took another drink. Mo Xuan stared at him, not knowing how to react.
One moment he had been standing on the examination platform. The next, he was here.
Mo Xuan's pupils narrowed.
Very powerful.
Han Long leaned back. "Tell me."
"Have you actually practised sword arts?"
Mo Xuan nodded, looking a bit smug. "I am self-taught."
Han Long chuckled. "You've practised alone."
The old man's eyes briefly became sharp. "You are a bit strange."
Mo Xuan said nothing.
Han Long didn't press him. In this world, no one lived without secrets — those foolish enough to flaunt theirs rarely lived long. Seeing the boy's caution, he seemed pleased.
He took another drink. "From now on, you're my nominal disciple."
Mo Xuan blinked. "Nominal?"
"Don't get excited."
Han Long waved his hand dismissively. "It means I might train you."
He smiled. "Or I might forget you exist."
Mo Xuan's face darkened. "Then when do I become your true disciple?"
Han Long looked at him. "When you reach the Soul King Realm."
Mo Xuan frowned. "When?"
"Before your sixteenth birthday."
Mo Xuan stared at him.
Han Long nodded. "Reach Level 40 before sixteen."
"Then I'll acknowledge you as my true disciple."
Mo Xuan's expression became complicated. He had hoped that entering the sect would bring him closer to finding a way home. Instead, he had somehow ended up with an eccentric drunkard who had placed an impossible condition before him.
"Soul King..." Mo Xuan murmured.
He didn't know enough about the cultivation hierarchy to understand exactly how difficult it was.
Han Long noticed his expression. "You don't even know the cultivation realms?"
Mo Xuan remained silent.
Han Long rolled his eyes. "Fine."
He raised his wine gourd and pointed toward the distant mountains. "Listen carefully."
"The cultivation path begins with Meridian Opening."
He explained that the first nine levels were not considered an official realm, but formed the foundation upon which every cultivator built their future. The body was tempered, impurities expelled, bones strengthened, and the meridians gradually opened. Only when that foundation was complete could Spiritual Energy circulate properly.
"After that comes the Soul Scholar Realm."
At this stage, Soul Power fully awakened and illuminated the Sea of Consciousness. A cultivator's senses would sharpen dramatically, and many would begin establishing communion with their Martial Soul or Soul Companion.
"Then Soul Practitioner."
Here, Soul Power could finally be controlled with precision. It could reinforce the body, strengthen weapons, or form techniques. More importantly, this was where a cultivator's Soul Skill could awaken—a unique manifestation influenced by their Martial Soul, bloodline, destiny and understanding of the Dao.
"Soul Master comes next."
Spiritual Sense awakened. The meridians expanded. A cultivator could perceive life and spiritual fluctuations beyond ordinary sight. Only then did a cultivator truly begin developing an individual combat style.
"And then..."
Han Long's expression became slightly more serious.
"Soul King."
At this stage, Soul Power underwent its first major qualitative transformation, condensing into a much purer and more powerful state. A Soul King's spiritual pressure alone could suppress weaker cultivators.
Those who reached this level could command clans, sects, even entire cities or become a King in a backward place.
Mo Xuan listened carefully.
He had never been taught any of this before.
Then Han Long continued.
"After Soul King comes Soul Spirit."
The cultivator's Soul Power would undergo another transformation, becoming Soul Essence. Body and soul would gradually achieve greater harmony, while Soul Armour and other manifestations of the Cosmic Soul could begin to emerge.
Han Long went on to explain the Soul Realm, where cultivators could begin harmonising with the world's spiritual laws, fly through the heavens, and form the beginnings of their own Domains.
Mo Xuan's eyes flickered. "Fly...?"
Han Long glanced at him and laughed. "Not only fly. The world beneath your feet will no longer be able to restrain you."
Then he waved his hand. "Forget the rest."
"It's too far away from you."
Mo Xuan stared at the distant mountains. The path ahead suddenly seemed enormous. Yet strangely... He found himself excited.
Han Long leaned closer. "Remember this."
"Each realm brings more than strength."
"You can climb quickly through greed and elixirs..."
His expression became unusually serious. "...but you'll collapse just as quickly."
He tapped his wine gourd against his palm.
"Cosmic Soul cultivation is tied to three things."
"Internal accumulation."
"Heaven and earth communication."
"And Dao understanding."
"No shortcuts."
Mo Xuan lowered his gaze. Six years.
He had six years to reach Soul King. And when he thought of his father, something inside him hardened.
He clenched his fists. "No. I have to go back. I cannot wait that long."
Han Long noticed the change in his expression. For the first time, the old man's drunken smile disappeared.
Mo Xuan looked at him. "For you to be able to bring me here in an instant, you must be very powerful, right?"
Mo Xuan's voice became quiet. "Can you take me home to see my father? I don't even know if he's well."
His eyes reddened. "I just want to go home to see him."
He lowered himself to his knees. "If you promise to take me back to see him..."
His voice trembled. "I'll obey you without complaint."
Han Long stared at him, his star-deep eyes turning inward as his fingers traced a series of quiet hand signs. Surprise flickered across his face.
Then amusement. "So that's what happened."
He looked away. "You haven't even met my requirements."
"If I take you back now and you fail to reach Soul King before sixteen..."
Han Long's eyes narrowed.
"Then everything I invested in you would be wasted."
His voice became colder. "A man's knees are precious."
"You don't kneel easily."
"Or have I chosen wrongly?"
Mo Xuan immediately shook his head as he stood up. "No!"
His voice was firm despite the tears in his eyes. "I'll work harder than anyone."
"I'll become your true disciple."
Han Long watched him for a long moment. Then he laughed. "Words are easy."
"Everyone says they'll reach the Soul Ancestor Realm someday."
"So what?"
He stood. "Rest tonight."
"Training begins tomorrow."
Then, with a grin, he added, "Don't die too early. It's annoying."
Before Mo Xuan could respond, the old man's figure disappeared.
Only the faint smell of wine remained.
Mo Xuan slowly stood. He looked toward the empty courtyard.
Then clenched his fists.
If I don't train, he thought, he won't keep me forever. Then I can choose another mentor in the sect. Maybe that would be better.
The next day, the new student began their classes.
Mo Xuan did not go. Nor did he appear the day after.
One day became three. Three became a week.
Every morning, the other new disciples gathered for lessons while Mo Xuan remained inside Han Long's courtyard. Han Long had made it clear that Mo Xuan was not permitted to leave the courtyard without his permission.
He had made his decision.
If Han Long truly wanted a genius disciple, then perhaps he could prove that he wasn't one. If he cultivated poorly enough and acted useless enough, perhaps Han Long would eventually become annoyed and release him.
It was a simple plan. At least, Mo Xuan thought it was.
One morning, as Mo Xuan sat beneath the old tree, lazily flipping through a cultivation manual, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind him.
"You've been lazy."
Mo Xuan's fingers stopped. He slowly turned around. Han Long stood there, arms folded across his chest, amusement dancing in his eyes. Mo Xuan remained silent.
Han Long walked around him once. "Let me guess."
He stopped in front of him. "You thought that if I wanted a genius, you'd simply act like trash until I became disappointed and kicked you out?"
Mo Xuan's expression remained blank.
Han Long laughed. "Not bad."
"You actually came up with a plan."
Mo Xuan lowered his book. "Then let me go."
"No." The answer came instantly.
Mo Xuan's face darkened.
Han Long chuckled. "That won't work."
He pointed toward the courtyard. "You have two paths before you."
"One—cultivate properly and earn your freedom."
"Two—waste away in this courtyard forever."
Mo Xuan's eyes widened.
"I'm giving you a choice."
"Reach Level 40, and you will have proven yourself. At that point, whether you remain my disciple will be your choice."
Han Long turned around. "Choose wisely."
Before Mo Xuan could respond, his figure disappeared. Mo Xuan stared at the empty courtyard. His teeth clenched. "This old man..."
The following morning, Han Long returned. This time, he looked unusually sober. He sat across from Mo Xuan and began speaking as though the previous conversation had never happened.
"From the Soul Scholar Realm to the Soul King Realm, the Spiritual Energy you absorb remains primarily in a gaseous state."
"As you advance, that energy accumulates and gradually transforms your Soul Power."
Mo Xuan blinked.
Han Long continued without caring whether he was listening. "This is the growth phase of your Soul Power."
"In the first stage, you temper the body. Once your Soul Power awakens, the body and Cosmic Soul begin to nourish one another."
"By the Soul Master Realm, you begin actively tempering and developing your Cosmic Soul."
Mo Xuan's expression gradually became serious. He put the book down.