This story, a tale that will later be sung across the kingdoms for thousands of years, began in a dim room where the only source of light was a small copper lantern, swinging gently in the summer breeze, just as insignificant as the old man himself standing in his workshop. However, as we all know, one’s fate is not set in stone. Not now, not ever.
The old man wore an unkempt robe that was just as white as his hair. He stood over the table and prepared himself for what he was about to finally do. The jade cauldron on top of the table, put between several books and bottles of green liquid, had a seahorse carved in the beautiful gemstone, followed by fine lines that curved right and left, detailing waves in the sea. One would say the cauldron is exquisitely crafted, at least compared to the old man himself.
"This should be it," said the man quietly in the dim light. His gentle brown eyes carried the hint of a great ambition as they looked into the cauldron.
The old man pulled up his sleeves and grabbed one of the bottles with green liquid inside. They were containers of herbal extract, the essence of several common herbs merged into one. He carefully opened the lid and slowly poured the extract into the cauldron.
"The next step... I need to properly control the heat," he murmured, using his energy in to lift the cauldron in the air. He then conjured a ball of fire underneath as means to heat up the herbal extract.
Sweat was evident on the old man's wrinkled forehead. After all, it was not easy for a man in his age to still refine potions with the cultivation of mere energy condensation.
As the herbal extract began to boil, the old man took control of it with the Thousand Fingers Technique. For mortals, those who have yet to take the first step toward immortality, he would at this moment look like a puppeteer without dolls, doing weird, sprawling movement with his fingers.
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However, for cultivators, those who had opened the mind's eye, enabling them to see the heaven and earth energy that permeates everything, they would see how the old man cleverly used strings of his own gathered energy to control the herbal extract, using them to tie up the extract into a ball. Or rather, into a pill the size of a thumb.
The process of confining the herbal extract into a ball took more than an hour before it was near completion. The old man’s body was shaking from fatigue and his energy was almost depleted. He continued only by sheer willpower. If not for his great ambition, and the fact that this pill was the first step toward that ambition, he would have fallen unconscious long ago.
Finally, a snap was heard. The old man took a deep breath and a smile appeared on his face as everything became black. As he fell onto the floor with a loud bang, there was another sound that couldn’t be heard. It was the pill, hitting the bottom of the cauldron with a low clang. The pill was smaller than the size of a thumb, actually, but seemed full of life nonetheless.
“D-did I succeed?!” as the old man woke up, he hurried over to the cauldron with his still tired body. He grabbed the pill inside as if it was the most prized treasure of the world, crying and laughing at the same time. The hint of ambition inside his eyes grew even stronger.
“I finally did it! Who said I didn’t have any talent! Who said I will never become a good cultivator! With this pill, with my Dao, the great Dao of Repetition, what is talent?! No matter how talented those youngsters are, how can they match up to my great Dao!” the old man shouted. “They practice a skill thousands of times and become experts? I will practice it a million times and still become an expert!! And then, hahah, I will practice it hundred million times more and become a master. Who knows, maybe I’ll even become the best!”