Elder Chen Yong stood, only slightly unsteady, and reverently retrieved an elegant jade bottle from the highest shelf. The vessel itself was a work of art, cloudy white jade with blue veins that seemed to shift and flow like actual clouds when the light caught them.

"This," he announced proudly, "is the finest spirit produced in the last millennium. Made from cloud essence berries that grow only on the highest peak of Mount Kunlun, harvested once every century, and fermented in vessels carved from the heartwood of thousand-year spirit trees."

I watched as he carefully broke the seal and poured himself a full cup. When he turned to my cup, however, he added only a few glistening drops, just enough to wet the bottom of the vessel.

"Just a taste for you," Elder Chen Yong said with a knowing smile. "Your World Tree Sutra has no affinity for wine-based spiritual substances. What nourishes my cultivation could disrupt yours."

I nodded appreciatively at his consideration.

"To facing fear," he declared, raising his cup.

"And to better days ahead," I added, lifting my own.

The few drops I consumed were like liquid starlight on my tongue, cool yet warming, complex yet harmonious, with flavors that seemed to evolve with each passing moment. Even that tiny amount sent a pleasant warmth through my meridians, temporarily boosting my qi circulation without risking the meridian damage or qi deviation that would have come from a larger portion.

I set my empty cup down, the Genesis Seed in my inner world already processing the small amount of foreign energy, integrating what it could use and neutralizing the rest. Perhaps by the time I reached the Life Realm, I'd develop enough spiritual tolerance to share a proper drink with my master. For now, though, this was enough.

Elder Chen Yong drained his cup completely, and I could see tension visibly leaving his body as the spirit's properties took effect, calming his mind and restoring balance to his disturbed energy. For him, this wasn't just a luxury, it was a cultivation resource perfectly aligned with his path.

"Magnificent," he sighed, refilling his cup with pleasure. "You know, Ke Yin, you truly are a good disciple. Always knowing exactly what's needed at the right moment."

The simple statement caught me off guard. A good disciple? The words settled uncomfortably given the situation. Here was my master, traumatized because of my actions, praising me for helping him cope with fear that I had caused.

My intention in the Nexus had never been to frighten him, quite the opposite. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding, one I couldn't clarify without revealing secrets that would only create greater problems.

"I'm glad I could help, Master," I replied sincerely.

Elder Chen Yong took another appreciative sip of the Weeping Cloud vintage, his expression growing more contemplative. "You know, perhaps I've been too hasty in my fears. After all, if that blood cultivator truly wanted to harm me, why reveal his presence at all? He could have simply marked me without my knowledge."

I nodded encouragingly, relieved to see him reasoning his way out of his panic.

"And now that I think about it," he continued, his speech becoming more measured as the spirit's calming effects spread, "his gaze, while intense, didn't necessarily hold malice. Perhaps it was mere curiosity. Blood cultivators are rare, after all, given Heaven's Mandate's vigilance."

"That seems entirely possible," I agreed readily.

The elder nodded to himself, seeming to find comfort in this new interpretation. "Yes, yes. Perhaps I overreacted. The stress of sect responsibilities, combined with the inherent discomfort of the Nexus for those of us merely at the Life Realm... it may have colored my perception."

I watched as my master gradually relaxed, his earlier panic receding with each sip of the exceptional spirit. Part of me wondered if I should feel manipulative for steering him toward this conclusion, but I quickly dismissed the thought. I genuinely wanted him to feel better, and the truth would only cause more harm than good.

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"So," Elder Chen Yong said after a comfortable silence, his tone much lighter, "breakthrough to the ninth stage, eh? Just in time for the tournament. Your timing is impeccable as always, Ke Yin."

I smiled. "I had excellent guidance."

My master chuckled, raising his cup in acknowledgment of the compliment. "While flattered, I know better than to take credit for your remarkable progress. You've far exceeded what any master could reasonably expect from a disciple at this stage."

His expression grew more serious, though without returning to his earlier distress. "Which brings me back to what I mentioned earlier. After the tournament, regardless of the outcome, I intend to formally offer you personal discipleship. Not apprenticeship, mind you, but true discipleship."

The distinction wasn't lost on me. Apprenticeship meant learning a trade or skill, while discipleship meant comprehensive guidance in cultivation, technique, and philosophical development. It was a significantly deeper commitment from both master and student.

"I would be honored," I replied, genuinely moved by the offer.

Elder Chen Yong smiled, the expression transforming his face from haggard to almost youthful. "Good, good. We'll discuss the details after you've amazed everyone in the tournament."

He studied me over the rim of his cup, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he sipped. The paranoia seemed to be receding, replaced by the perceptive gaze I was more familiar with.

"You know" he said, his voice turning contemplative, "formation study is more than just drawing lines and arranging spiritual materials. It's about creating harmony from chaos, finding the hidden patterns that connect all things." He gestured vaguely with his cup. "In a way, it's not unlike what you're doing."

I tensed slightly. "What I'm doing, Master?"

"Finding your path," he clarified, thankfully oblivious to my moment of panic. "Most disciples follow well-trodden cultivation roads, never deviating from established methods. But you—" he pointed at me, "—you're forging something unique. I sensed it from our first meeting."

If he only knew how unique my path truly was. Not just the World Tree Sutra with its transdimensional properties, but my very existence as a soul from another world inhabiting a cultivator's body.

"The tournament will be interesting," he continued, pouring himself another cup of the glowing wine. "Your breakthrough has come at a fortuitous time. With your formation knowledge and ninth-stage cultivation, you should advance quite far, perhaps even to the finals."

"That's my hope," I agreed, relieved by the change in subject. "Our team has prepared well."

"Team," Elder Chen Yong repeated with a nostalgic smile. "I remember my tournament days. My team reached the semifinals before being eliminated." He chuckled. "We were so serious back then, as if the tournament results would determine our entire futures."

"And did they?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head. "Hardly. The disciple who eliminated me never advanced beyond the Elemental Realm, while I reached the Life Realm despite my defeat. Tournaments test specific skills, but the Dao of Cultivation follows its own mysterious logic." His eyes focused on me with surprising clarity. "Remember that, Ke Yin. Win or lose, the tournament is merely a moment in your cultivation journey, not its destination."

I nodded, absorbing his wisdom. Even in his current diminished state, Elder Chen Yong retained the perspective that came from centuries of cultivation experience.

"Which reminds me, you should be resting and preparing, not listening to an old man ramble,” he waved a hand dismissively.

I recognized the gentle dismissal and rose to my feet. "I'll leave you to enjoy your Weeping Cloud Vintage, Master. Thank you for your time."

As I stepped outside into the fresh mountain air, closing the door on Elder Chen Yong's retreating form, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had made the right decision to visit.

The elder's condition had been far worse than I'd anticipated. Such extreme stress and paranoia could have serious consequences for a cultivator, even one at the Life Realm. Qi deviation, that strange and unpredictable phenomenon, had occurred due to far less severe disturbances.

When a cultivator's mental state became severely unbalanced, their qi would sometimes follow suit, twisting into chaotic patterns that could damage meridians, corrupt their inner world, or even cause their cultivation to regress.

Had I not intervened, who knows how long Elder Chen Yong might have remained in that state, his energy growing more unstable with each passing day? At least now he appeared calmer, his qi flowing more naturally, the immortal wine helping to reestablish his equilibrium. Whatever guilt I carried about causing his distress in the first place, I'd at least prevented the situation from deteriorating further.

You're a good disciple.

The words followed me down the pine-lined path, a compliment I hadn't entirely earned and perhaps didn't deserve. Yet as the Genesis Seed pulsed contentedly in my inner world and the dual suns continued their eternal dance, I found myself hoping that someday I might live up to Elder Chen Yong's estimation of me.

The tournament was in two days, and I felt genuinely prepared to face whatever challenges awaited. With my cultivation at the ninth stage of Qi Condensation, my inner world expanded and enriched by treasures from the Nexus, and teammates I could actually rely on, I was ready to show Azure Peak what I could do.

And perhaps, in the process, prove to myself that I deserved to be called a good disciple after all, if not for the reasons Elder Chen Yong believed.