The sky was dark and the horizon was a beautiful gradient of yellow, orange, and purple. The courtyard was dimly lit in an orange glow from the setting sun. A figure, wearing white silk robes with silver embroidery, held a black iron pole and drew in the sand. He wore his black hair tied up in a bun. His gaze was calm and his steps were steady. He looked back at his handiwork when he stepped off the sandy courtyard. Although it had been a while since he practiced his footwork and pole techniques, it seemed like he still had it in him.

* * *

Ye Fan's shoes were stained with dirt and mud. His eyes revealed great fatigue as he hopped over the courtyard gate and heavily landed on the sandy ground. He was ready to head to his room and sleep when he was startled by a loud cough. Looking over at the source of the noise, he was alarmed. A bow appeared in his hands and a quiver on his back. He rapidly shot five arrows in quick succession. The figure leisurely spun his pole, deflecting the arrows as he advanced on Ye Fan. In the next moment, Ye Fan found himself face down in the sand. He tried to get up but his body was stiff. The figure had hit his acupoints with the iron pole on the way down. As Ye Fan struggled, the figure commented on Ye Fan's actions with amusement.

"Good reaction and quick reflexes. Although… your eyes seem a bit dull young master. It seems you've failed the great Immortal's efforts. It's only been a day and you don't recognize this old servant, young master?"

Hearing the familiar voice, Ye Fan let out a surprised string of words while coughing from the dust.

"*cough cough cough* Uncle *cough cough* Hu? *cough cough*"

Seeing his young master's discomfort, Uncle Hu unlocked Ye Fan's pressure points and helped the youth to his feet. As Ye Fan dusted himself off, he took his time to inspect Uncle Hu again.

Before, Uncle Hu would let his hair down and didn't take much care of his appearance beyond basic hygiene. When they had departed for his master's abode, the boatman's hair was salt and pepper and his face was unshaven. He started taking better care of his appearance when they began traveling with his master by shaving and brushing. What didn't change was that his hair was always let down and continued to gray rapidly.

It was odd the speed that Uncle Hu aged. He aged at three times the norm. Ye Fan speculated that it was a terminal illness. He had tried asking his old servant in the past, but the question was deflected. It seemed to be a sensitive topic so Ye Fan didn't push it. He even asked his father, but his father didn't want to talk about it either.

Stolen novel; please report.

The current appearance that Uncle Hu gave was of a dignified Elder of an Immortal Sect. In Ye Fan's opinion, it didn't match up with his image of Uncle Hu. It seemed that his old servant had a body rebirth, but that required a high cultivation base or a natural treasure. The humble boatman had never demonstrated anything unusual, so Ye Fan couldn't confirm this. Just in case, Ye Fan decided to ask his old servant directly.

"Did you make a breakthrough, Uncle Hu?"

The boatman chuckled at his young master's actions. His reply was mysterious.

"I guess you could say that, young master."

Seeing that Uncle Hu didn't want to answer, Ye Fan tactfully changed the subject.

"Where's Master?"

"Master Immortal has left his instructions for the last trial to me. You won't be meeting him until you finish it."

The youth revealed a determined expression at those words, but the overwhelming sense of fatigue made it so he was less enthusiastic.

"Um. Uncle Hu. Can this wait for tomorrow?" *yawn*

The middle-aged man revealed a slight smile before replying.

"As you wish, young master. Try to wash up if you can. Master Immortal's tests aren't easy."

"Thank you for the reminder, Uncle."

The youth absentmindedly said his thanks as he collapsed on his bed, forgetting to close the door to his room. The reborn old man shook his head and began talking to himself.

"What a strange world we live in. Who would've known that I would be able to continue serving at the young master's side like this? It's been so long since I've felt this healthy."

Runes emerged around the courtyard with a light bluish glow. The middle-aged man began dancing in the sandy courtyard. Pole shadows flickered and the wind picked up sand. A layer of dust filled the air obscuring the middle-aged figure from view. Even to an astute eye, the only thing that could be seen inside the courtyard was a flickering shadow within. But despite the distortions in the air and the great force that could be seen in each pole strike, not a sound nor a grain of sand escaped from the area surrounded by runes. Ye Fan continued to snore as he was enveloped in dreams of grandeur.

* * *

"Keuk!"

Ye Fan woke up with a start. He stared absentmindedly at the morning rays streaming in from the open sliding door. The room was simple and unadorned. There was a small wooden table and chair for studying below a closed window. His bed was folded cloth on a wooden bed frame. His pillow was stuffed with straw and his blanket was spun from wool. Currently, his blanket lay in a pool on the floor before his nightstand as a casualty of his immersive dreams. The youth sighed and picked the blanket up before folding it. He was used to finding the blanket on the floor since he would often move in his sleep. It wasn't to the extent of sleepwalking, but he would sometimes roll around and kick. When he was sleeping in the dirt, he often found that it was better to just wear thicker clothing. There were a few times when he even kicked Uncle Hu awake. The old servant who was initially insistent on sleeping near his young master to protect him quickly changed his mind afterward. From then on, Uncle Hu would sleep out of Ye Fan's effective range.

Closing the door behind him, the youth walked out into the courtyard. As he stepped past the glowing runes, they lost their glow and left no traces. Dust hung in the air, so the youth squinted his eyes and lightly squeezed his nose with his left hand. As the dust settled, Ye Fan saw Uncle Hu leaning on the black iron staff and breathing heavily. A smile appeared on the old servant's face as he greeted Ye Fan.

"Did you have a good rest, young master?"

A few drops of sweat still clung to the middle-aged man's face. Dust encased his whole figure from head to toe. His features could hardly be made out. Ye Fan held a weird expression as he spoke his next words.

"Uncle Hu… were you out here training all night?"