"Then why… does everyone say I'm a waste?"
"Because of the seal." Jing Lao's voice turned grim. "Someone used an exceptionally sophisticated technique to seal your Chaotic Spirit Root, allowing only a trace of impure spiritual energy to leak out, making you appear to others as a mere miscellaneous root. Not only does this seal suppress your talent, it is slowly consuming your vitality."
His tone grew heavier.
"If it is not undone, you will not live past twenty-five."
Twenty-five.
Lin Chen was sixteen now.
Nine years left.
Nine years.
He was silent for a long time.
Long enough that Jing Lao thought he had been frightened.
Then Lin Chen spoke, his voice as calm as if he were discussing someone else's fate.
"Can it be undone?"
Jing Lao was quiet for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. "This old man is but a wisp of a soul, his power less than one percent of what it once was. To break this seal, I would need at least Foundation Establishment cultivation and three rare treasures: Nine-Turn Purification Grass, Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Jade Marrow, and Heaven's Lightning Bamboo."
Foundation Establishment.
Lin Chen was not even at the first layer of Qi Condensation.
Foundation Establishment seemed as distant as the stars—visible, but impossible to reach.
But he did not despair.
"You said," Lin Chen said, his voice steady, "that if you help me, I will also help you. What do you want me to do?"
Jing Lao's eyes brightened.
This young man was not only direct but remarkably calm.
Faced with such a revelation, he had not panicked, had not asked "why me," but had gone straight to the terms.
Such a temperament was rarer than the Chaotic Spirit Root itself.
"This old man was betrayed in ancient times," Jing Lao said, his voice growing low, as if speaking of a story faded with age. "My body was destroyed, my soul shattered, leaving only this wisp of consciousness to linger in the Fragment. For a hundred thousand years, countless people have possessed this mirror, but none could awaken it. You are the first."
He looked at Lin Chen, and there was warmth in his gaze.
"Perhaps this is fate. By helping you, I help myself. If you grow strong enough, perhaps someday you can help me recover my lost memories and uncover the truth of who destroyed me."
"Deal." Lin Chen did not hesitate.
Jing Lao blinked, then laughed.
"You are not afraid I am deceiving you?"
"What would be the point?" Lin Chen countered. "A wisp of a soul, trapped in a mirror for a hundred thousand years—do you really have the energy to spin tales for a useless boy?"
Jing Lao burst out laughing.
His laughter echoed in the darkness, carrying a hundred thousand years of loneliness and the joy of finally finding someone.
"Good! Good, young man!" His laughter faded, and his expression grew solemn. "Then from this day forward, you are this old man's disciple. I will teach you all I know. But there is one condition—you must swear a Heavenly Oath: if one day you stand at the summit of the world, you will seek the truth of what happened to me and take vengeance on those who destroyed me!"
Lin Chen did not hesitate.
He knelt—though in this space of consciousness, his body was only a projection, the gesture represented his resolve.
"I, Lin Chen, swear before Heaven," his voice rang out, each word etched like carving into stone, "that if Jing Lao guides me on the immortal path, I will one day uncover the truth of his fate and destroy his enemies. If I break this oath, may Heaven and Earth destroy me."
The words had barely left his lips when a faint rumble sounded in the void.
An invisible Heavenly Contract formed between them, the ineffable laws of the universe inscribing this vow between heaven and earth.
Jing Lao nodded, satisfied.
He raised his translucent hand, and a golden light appeared in his palm, glowing warmly like a tiny sun.
"This is the Chaos Art," Jing Lao said, his voice taking on a solemn tone. "The supreme cultivation method of the ancient Chaos lineage, designed specifically for the Chaotic Spirit Root. Even with the seal upon you, cultivating this art will allow you to slowly advance. And perhaps… one day, break the seal and unleash the full power of Chaos."
The golden light floated toward Lin Chen and sank into his forehead.
In an instant, a torrent of information flooded his mind—meridian pathways, rules for circulating spiritual energy, the hidden interactions of the five elements, the essence of Chaos power…
Lin Chen closed his eyes, absorbing it all.
When he opened them again—
He was back in that tiny, dilapidated shack.
Outside the window, moonlight poured in like water, cold and clear, falling on his pale face.
The bronze mirror in his hand had gone still, its surface once again cloudy and gray. But Lin Chen could feel that something had changed. Deep within the mirror, a faint connection linked him to Jing Lao.
"How do you feel?" Jing Lao's voice echoed in his mind, old and gentle.
Lin Chen took a deep breath.
He could feel the meager spiritual energy in his dantian slowly circulating along the pathways of the Chaos Art. It was no longer the knife-edged pain of before, but a warm, flowing sensation.
Like the first spring rain on a parched riverbed.
"I feel…" Lin Chen murmured, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "good."
He lifted his head and gazed at the moon outside the window.
The moonlight was clear, cold, bright.
For the first time in sixteen years, he felt that the world was not as dark as he had thought.