When the rest of the passengers finished boarding the vessel, the airship began floating up into the air. Wuzhi, who was peering out of his cabin's small window, felt a funny sensation inside his tummy while watching the ground grow distant.
Rising higher and higher, the sight of the earth soon disappeared and was replaced by clouds. The airship had successfully ascended and had begun its journey to the North Aislu Continent.
Collapsing onto the recliner, Wuzhi muttered to himself. "A fully mechanical construct that allowed ordinary humans to conquer the skies. So, this is how it feels to be inside one of them, huh?" An exciting glow shined within his eyes. "How exciting!"
A hundred years ago, flying was a privilege granted to only the most powerful cultivators. To ascend just a few metres from the ground, an individual had to be of at least Rank 5 realm with profound attainment in the [Wind Path] or other related Paths. To actually take to the skies, one had to grow even further.
However, this exclusivity changed when practitioners studying the [Engineering Path] invented the first flying vessel! It was an invention that was fuelled, not by profound forces beyond the control of man, but by human ingenuity and genius.
Building upon this first success, the first public airship was born less than thirty years ago in the Year 706 NCE. Since then, the distance between the continents has drastically shortened. Places that previously took months to reach could now be travelled to in mere weeks. Human logistics saw a massive growth in scale ushering the world into a new era of exploration and colonisation.
Isilda Continent, the second largest continent on this planet, was also a result of this new era. What was previously an untamed land filled with heinous Wild Beasts and savage natives was now one of the fastest-growing colonies and most resource-rich regions under human occupation.
After spending an hour or so studying his cabin and immersing himself in the joy of discovery, Wuzhi left his quarters to explore the other areas of the airship.
His face, hidden under the shadowy veil of his bamboo hat, held an expression of ecstasy. His eyes practically spilt with light as he studied every single item
in his surroundings; starting from the carpets under his feet to the rivets holding together the sheets of metal consisting of the corridor.
It didn't matter whether he came across something that he had already seen and felt before or something that he had only learnt of as a passing mention in a book, Wuzhi's excitement and passion did not lessen in the least. In fact, it only seemed to grow more with each passing second.
Fortunately, he managed to reign it in when he reached an area occupied by people. Having followed a corridor to its end, Wuzhi arrived at the airship's lounge area.
"Welcome aboard, sir. Would you like a warm towel?" A female attendant presented a tray arranged with rolled face towels to Wuzhi.
Flashing a smile to the attendant, Wuzhi received a towel and replied, "Why, certainly!" He then proceeded to rub it on his face.
Going ahead by a few steps, Wuzhi was intercepted by another attendant holding a tray. This time, the tray was filled with tall glasses containing a fizzy, golden-coloured liquid.
"This is Spirit Arousing Champagne. Would Sir care for a glass?" The attendant offered.
Wuzhi was immediately intrigued by that offer. Never, in all his years of living, had he tasted alcohol or other similar spirits.
"Oh, yes, please." Wuzhi quickly received a glass from the attendant while exchanging his warm towel.
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With the tall glass of bubbly, shimmering golden liquid in his hand, Wuzhi appreciated its sight. Lowering his face he whiffed at it, learning its scent, and remembering it.
When the time was right, Wuzhi raised the glass and brought it to his lips. His thin, soft lips enveloped the edge of the glass and suckled the golden liquid from the chalice.
Puff! Wuzhi immediately spat it out.
"My, that tastes," with a shrivelled face, he commented, "disgusting!"
Finding an empty table, Wuzhi immediately put down the glass and walked away. It seemed that in this life, Wuzhi possessed no penchant for alcohol.
Still, a new experience was a new experience. After firmly noting down this in his memory, Wuzhi walked onto the main floor and started mingling with the other passengers scattered about. His scholarly wisdom, excellent conversational skills, and general aura of likeability quickly saw him integrating with the other passengers.
Before long, Wuzhi could be seen flocking about the floor, laughing with the rest of the passengers. He found a favourite in the finger sandwiches that were being served and kept an arm's length from the champagne.
The other passengers, as he learned through conversation, consisted of businessmen, upper-class men and women, and other generally important folks. Coincidentally, all of them also happened to be non-cultivating mortals.
As conversations continued to flourish, Wuzhi suddenly took note of another passenger sitting alone in an isolated corner of the gathering hall. Immediately taking an interest in this person, he quietly asked the nobleman next to him.
"Lord Keiron. Who is that person sitting all alone over there?" Wuzhi pointed.
Following the direction of his finger, Lord Keiron, a middle-aged nobleman who had come to the Isilda Continent on business, noted the lone individual and answered Wuzhi's question. "Oh, that person." He then quickly lowered his voice and whispered quietly. "If my ears didn't deceive me, I recall that person being a Cultivator!"
Cultivators, or Practitioners of the Path, were mortals who sought to learn and understand the myriad profundities of Heaven and Earth. They were scholars who sought knowledge of the unknown, explored the Path, and practised mysterious arts.
"Oh!" Learning that the lone man was a cultivator, Wuzhi immediately understood why that man was isolated. "Does Lord know which rank he belongs to?" he quested further.
"Rank 2," Lord Keiron immediately replied. His attention was then drawn by another passenger, resulting in him leaving Wuzhi alone to ponder.
Cultivators or Practitioners [AN: I will use these two terms interchangeably. In most cases, they mean the same thing; people who seek to understand a Path] were, first and foremost, scholars. Mortals who sought to cultivate a Path(s) did so, not in order to grow stronger or live longer but to better understand the world and decipher the secrets of Heaven. In short, they were men and women of knowledge.
Having said that, it went without saying that Cultivation resulted in increased strength and lifespan. A normal mortal with mortal strength and mortal means would, in time, find themselves capable of superhuman feats. As they climbed to the later Ranks, they might even equal weapons of mass destruction!
This being the case, an invisible divide is created between regular mortals and cultivators. A divide was borne out of caution and hesitation. Most cultivators, in the latest Era, were sensible and careful of their mortal counterparts.
However, history was chockfull of terrible precedents which saw 'cultivators' as godly powerhouses capable of destroying mountains and seas on a whim and 'mortals' as hapless slaves whose only purposes were to breed and serve their supernatural masters.
Fortunately, such barbaric, bestial history filled with oppression, slaughter, and 'the strong preying on the weak' was just that. History. In recent years, with the emergence of new Paths and key figures, a delicate balance was formed and the lives of mortal humans were more or less similar to that of cultivators.
The airship, which Wuzhi currently stood upon, itself was a testament to the changed Era. Flight, previously the privilege of the strong, was now just as accessible to a powerless infant.
Slipping out of his internal thoughts, Wuzhi stared at the lone cultivator for a few seconds before walking towards him. Unlike the others, who subconsciously ostracized the cultivator out of fear, Wuzhi felt nothing of that kind.
If anything, he was all the more curious to interact with the lone cultivator. The saying 'an ignorant calf knows not of the dangers of a tiger' could not be more apt to describe Wuzhi in the current situation.
Arriving near the lone cultivator, who was seated on a plush sofa and reading the newspaper in his hand, Wuzhi greeted. "Greetings, Sir Practitioner. This humble one is named Wuzhi."
He then pointed to the newspaper in the Cultivator's hand and asked smilingly, "I was hoping to borrow that newspaper from Sir Practitioner should you be done reading it."
Wuzhi's first meeting with a cultivator began with an audacious request.