Days passed by rapidly and the stench of the butcher was getting stuck in Hao’s nose. It was trailing around behind him as the days passed.

Luckily, getting kicked out of the butcher the day he saw the technique, allowed Hao to go to the library.

The tower was taller than the day he first saw it from a distance or any other time he passed it.

The path up to it was the same gray, but thin as it was further from the courtyards.

It was along the path that led to a series of dorms, not just the ones Hao stayed in. but another path of individual housing for disciples who could afford them.

The space around the building outside was empty despite the population of the area.

Inside, a few people were sitting around, but fewer than Hao would have expected. Most were leaving as Hao approached the building, most were likely just hiding out till the sun was sufficiently low for a comfortable walk home.

Hao found the situation more than a little confusing; Was there anything as great as a place where you could gain endless knowledge, if no such opportunity presented itself before?

“You lot are coming quite often now, all just because you’re eager to die for a pretty stone. Why DIE in a strange place instead of in the arms of a good woman?” A cracking voice worn by time greeted Hao with those words on his first visit the moment he stepped inside the library.

The voice was from a man standing behind a low desk. The desk was just inside the library, a few steps from the door. His face was gnarled and folded like he had been resting face-first against a tree, but his eyes were sharp, nails forged from iron that could hold up a house.

There was a woman who had similar stamps of time on her. Her eyes closed, her elbows resting on the arms of the rocking chair she sat in, her hands held across her belly.

The man rocked the chair as she slept.

They both wore disciples’ robes, a similar but slightly lighter blue, showing the time the robes spent in the sun.

Hao only started his approach towards the desk when the old voice shook him again. “The information for the Secret Realm is on the left wall. It should already be out; that’s what you keep bothering us about. Now go, don’t disturb my wife’s rest.” The man looked away from Hao, fully expecting the visitor to the library to go off.

Hao raised his hands, smiling at the old man.

“Senior, this is my first time in the library. I am not familiar with this Secret Realm or the rules.” Hao said, his voice quiet, his hands cupped, his waist slightly bent.

The man looked up, initially wearing squinted eyes and clenched teeth. He let out a long sigh, leveling his chin when he saw Hao’s gesture. “You can explore the first floor; anything on the first floor is free unless you want a copy. Access to the higher floors requires Sect Points or permission from an Elder.” The man said, rocking the chair, staying at the perfect pace.

The old man’s eyes were dagger when looking at Hao and around the room, they were sheathed but knew how to cut if they had to. When he pulled his eyes back to his wife in the chair, his eyes turned to wool cushions. Her body did not move any more than the bounce of her chest from her breathing.

“I am old indeed, but that means I am experienced. There is no need for you to bow to me. I would have wasted all these years approaching death if I could not see you are stronger than me.” The old man said.

“You’re the one that rowdy fool mentioned when talking to those pompous underlings. That spurt from the Fourth Elder, whatever that thing is, he wishes you dead. Perhaps you should kill him instead and return the quiet to this hall where my wife likes to rest. What was that boy’s name again?” The man said. His eyes went up and down Hao, then down to his wife, around the hall like it was his business to check every corner every minute. He acted as if he could continue that way for hours.

He stopped when a hand touched him, the woman in the chair. “That child’s name was Mo Bangcai.” the old woman spoke.

“Indeed, that was the thing. Trust this old man, you should do what you have to; No good comes from a grudge brewing! And after him, all things named Mo, even the dogs and chickens that share their courtyard. Even the trees and grass on their mountains and fields. Down to the roots if you have to…” The old man cut himself off.

The old woman’s hand raised up, touching the man’s face. “Hmm. Yes, what is it?” The man’s voice changed in a second split down the middle. His posture got lower as he smiled.

“Sorry, you will have to give him some leeway. He has been acting this way more frequently. We are getting closer to the end of our lifespans.” The woman said. A tender voice delivered such dramatic words with a reassured level of acceptance.

She slid her hand down his shoulder, replacing his hand on the chair, asking him to rock it.

The old man seemed to forget Hao was there as he hummed while rocking the chair.

Hao bowed his head, knowing it was not his place to speak again. Listening to the hum as he read.

Hao read plenty on his first day in the library, more on the second, and even more on the third. His reading speed rapidly improved with every page he turned.

Techniques were a little different, the pages only got easier to understand if he had read a similar technique before.

There were four techniques similar to ‘Water Breaking Fist’. One for each of the five mortal elements, another concept Hao had just learned in the library. After the water came wood, then fire, earth, and metal, returning to water. A cycle that repeated.

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He reread ‘Water Breaking Fist’ for curiosity’s sake and a little nostalgia. The book he knew was slightly different, older, and thinner. The rules and the face of the Elder were not on a single page.

By the fourth day, Hao was reading more books in a few hours than the Island he grew up on Hao owned. Storms and water beat the few books on the Island. The only safe place to put them during summer storms was the watchtower, free of possible flooding, and open to rain that curved in the wind.

He read of the secret realm the older couple talked about, a ‘magical realm’ of some sort called the ‘mid-summer cave’.

A hidden place that held many mind-provoking treasures. Each with benefits, each worth dozens of years of work in contribution points.

This Secret Realm was no market stall selling sugary sweets. Flora and Fauna were eager to kill you. Worse people, resources are limited, and some are rare. Hao was grasping an understanding of the people who cultivate; it was clear why people would compete for these treasures. People from other sects fight people from other sects. People killing their brothers and sisters for a couple of spirit stones of wealth.

Most of the information was in old tomes, written and rewritten, some of it was in archaic forms of language.

A few of the treasures caught Hao’s eyes, and some of the smaller treasures, a plant with a weird name—Yellow-yellow grass must be a mistranslation—Its name also could have been read as noon or bright grass, either word replacing either yellow.

The biggest treasure, the one that caught everyone’s interest, caught Hao’s mind as well. It was translated as a ‘around the clock’ amethyst or Day-Night amethyst.

The amethyst was not uncommon in the secret but had great use. They were stones that collect the energy of day and night during summer.

There were a few other of the rarer things, some written with the character for ‘speculative’ next to them. Hao read them, keeping that in mind.

The others that were proven to be found in the real were the ones that pulled him in. Giving him another motivation to get stronger so he could fight for such treasures.

The treasure and artifacts Hao had run into had already brought him significant benefits, more than he could count. He continued his experiments with the Drinking Stone and Spirit-Holding bag every day. More discoveries nearly every night. Excellent results with almost every test.

His control of the bag was getting better. The only problem was he felt drained of World Energy whenever he used it often.

That side effect went away when he started feeding the Drinking-Stone while it was inside the bag. World Energy filled the bag as he fed the blue stone beast blood.

With World Energy inside the bag, the bag felt multitudes heavier on him in more than just a physical way. This allowed him to use the bag with no limit, allowing his control to grow rapidly, finding more space inside the bag, and going further with tests.

Along with discovering things ‘surviving’ inside the bag, Hao also tried growing plants within it. He dug up a bush, whole, taking the root with the surrounding dirt, transplanting it inside the bag. It was hard to tell as he could not see it physically with his eyes, but sensing it was strange. The only way to describe it was—A bust and a clump of dirt floating in the void.

Hao found a way to produce the ‘inert beast blood’; The material that Senior Li Tuzai wanted by accident while playing with the bag.

It seemed to only come from the blood that had sat out for a while, whether it was a demon beast’s blood or not. The more stale and rancid the blood became, the more dried material was left behind.

Hao kept that to himself, the way Senior Tuzai reacted to discovering it made Hao wish he had never shown it to the man. At the very least, he wanted to learn that footwork technique, and then find out what benefits he could get from the Senior.

That did not stop Hao from making it; he had plenty, not a jar full, not yet at least, not so easily, as it consumed a resource he had little of.

Getting the blood inside the bag was often a messy process until it floated close enough to the Drinking-Stone. He had to open them before putting them inside the bag. After all, he could not manipulate things inside the bag’s space too well yet.

Hao, having scanned through the techniques on the library’s first floor by the fifth day, found none similar to the footwork technique. There were a few he tried his best to learn; Not that any were truly great.

Do I know what I am looking for? Hao thought, not sure what he was doing without guidance.

He spent the rest of his free time meditating. Hao enjoyed his meditations most during the peak of noon or in the dead middle of the night. He reveled in the hours between the winds blowing at dawn and dusk.

His preferred times of practice made him more curious and want the amethyst in the Secret realm all the more.

Hao’s days became full. Practice, butcher, the library, and time with the Wu ladies scattered throughout the day. Hao wished time was slower so he could do more.

The beginning of summer passed, the brightest day before the real storm season started passed by uneventfully.

The people on the Immortal Mountain drank tea and wine as mortal cities suffered the heat.

The books on the library’s first floor were mostly useless now. He mainly went there to visit the old couple. The mountain was feeling less lonely, becoming a warmer place; Getting closer to the elderly pair and the Wu women.

The old couple shared the surname He. Hao started calling them Grandma and Grandpa He at their request. They called him little Hao, affection Hao did not need, but did not mind, and quietly appreciated.

Hao discovered early on Grandpa He’s talent for art, specifically painting, and questions Hao had about cultivation Hao could go to them.

But everything Grandpa He said, Hao had to take with a grain of salt.

“Little Hao, you must know better than me, but since you ask. Reclamation is about reclaiming the self. You reforge the body till stage three. Your Grandpa He here is stuck at the second layer.” Grandpa He said, his eyes sinking to the ground for a moment, then continued again to talk and tell a story.

“As you pull in World Energy, you slowly draw vital essence to your Dantian to form a Vital Core or false core.”

“When you have a core. You chase the five rivers, making countless streams, forming a spiritual sea.”

“But a true man should also form the five stars, and have the strength to move a mountain with just one hand.”

Grandpa He moved his arms and hands while he spoke, flexing and taking deep breaths.

“Shoosh, stop yelling old man!” Grandma He pulled her husband from his stance with his raised hands.

Hao learned of two cultivation paths from Grandpa He, who wanted to be a physical cultivator.

Hao put the pieces together, figuring out the world energy in his veins that he got from beast meat was energy used in physical cultivation.

The world energy in the paths he did not recognize was used in the more conventional path of Inner or Spiritual Cultivation.

He was also informed it would start turning into a new sort of Qi, condensed from World Energy, once he formed this ‘false’ or ‘vital’ core at the ninth stage of reclamation.

Hao learned other things not as important, but just as interesting to hear about.

Grandpa He was keen on stories and legends. He knew little of cultivation beyond the ninth of reclamation. But he had countless stories to tell; About secrets, legacies, treasures, stuff Hao never had in any of the books on the first floor of the library.

Outside of the library, Hao grew closer to the two women with the surname Wu. Meiqi called him something similar to little Hao. Hao continued to call her Meiqi. Hao had even seen Meiqi’s bareback a few times, something that prodded at his curiosities.

His relationship with Zhengqi had gotten better, but she was less comfortable than her mother. She still called Hao Young Master, and Hao was unsure what to call her, but they shared conversations, laughter, and food.

When Hao was alone, he sat in meditation. Time passed like the wind as he made progress through Reclamation.

World Energy crawled into his body. The feeling of tiny roots growing throughout his body traveled down to his center of gravity.

The fourth step of Reclamation. Is what Grandpa He called the real first step of Inner Cultivation?

Hao’s breakthrough was coupled with his comprehension of the first steps of the technique taught to him by Senior Li Tuzai.

I’ll go see Senior Tuzai tomorrow…

Hao made flighty steps as he exited his meditation position, using the footwork technique that he was challenged to learn in a deal Hao did not fully know.

As he performed the technique, the diagram that was carved into his head disappeared. Hao forced himself to keep the images, hoping to ask Grandpa He to draw his description of it.

With the diagram disappearing, the name of the technique appeared in his head—Seven Colored Steps—The name appeared alongside the other diagrams behind his eyes except for the eighth and final step of the technique.

Hao spent the rest of that night outside in the cold, consolidating his new cultivation and perfecting the technique.