Time flew for a vintner, and weeks passed in a blink. Every morning, Cade checked on his flowers, his expression gradually growing more concerned. After six weeks, the qi plants were nearly ready for harvest; it seemed just a few more days would be enough to maximize their medicinal quality.

  In the garden behind the house, Cade sat on a bench next to Skinny, whose bulk demanded twice as much room. They both watched the slim figure of a young woman treading back and forth, lost in thought. Her name was Silk, and her qi aptitude was second only to Skinny’s. She suddenly stopped, turning her head towards Cade.

  “Could you not refine those pills on the road?” Silk asked, her melodious voice a stark contrast to her hot temper. She was a pretty girl on the cusp of adulthood, with bright blonde hair, twinkling blue eyes, and deeply tanned skin. She wore a slightly washed-out, blue, ankle-length dress that accentuated her feminine charm. The gown had clear signs of wear and repair, but it still complemented her lithe figure.

  Cade shook his head. “That won’t work. It takes hours of concentration to concoct decent pills, and I won’t be able to do it after walking all day. My refinement skills are poor, and my cauldron is a piece of scrap. It’ll be a miracle if I can refine a couple of crude pills while at home,” he said in a dispirited voice.

  Her brow furrowed into a pout, but she decided to say nothing. Instead, she sat on a rickety chair opposite them, crossing her legs and revealing shapely calves.

  “Neither of you can afford to wait for me,” Cade continued. “You should go first; I’ll just have to leave a few days later and catch up.”

  Both friends noticed his lack of enthusiasm, and when they heard his travel plans, they glanced at each other with concern. Noticing their reaction, Cade quickly added, “There is a risk in traveling alone, but there haven’t been any attacks on the road to Sacrament City for a couple of years, so I should be all right.”

  The area controlled by the Sword Sacrament sect was kept reasonably safe by frequent disciple patrols. The sect was ruthless with criminals; any serious offense was punished with death. While this greatly reduced the number of robbers, it wasn't uncommon to encounter desperate outlaws on the road to any major city. Hence, most people traveled in groups.

  “Are you sure you want to take that chance?” Skinny asked, shifting his large body slightly.

  “It’s not that I want to, Pete, but that I have to. Either that or give up on joining the sect, and I’m not ready to do that. If I can’t join the outer court this year, that will be it for me. Even if another, smaller sect gave me a chance in the future, how many weeks would I need to travel alone through unknown territory? I’d be courting death.”

  “You could always consider joining the Hak Fu Monastery,” Silk suggested, trying to lift his spirits. “You could travel with Monk Pao. I’m sure he’d be happy to take you. We probably wouldn’t see each other for a long time, but it’s still a solid choice if you want to provide a good life for your mom.”

  Cade didn’t feel suited to being a body refiner, lacking the strong physique that made one suitable for that style of cultivation. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” he offered Silk a thankful smile. “Fingers crossed, in a few days I’ll be able to set off and join you two in Sacrament City.”

  His lips involuntarily curled at the thought of finally crossing into the second stage of cultivation.

  “That’s the spirit!” Silk grinned. Peter and Silk always supported Cade however they could; what came easy to them was much harder for him, but fortunately, he wasn’t one to give up easily.

  “I guess with your stubborn dedication, anything is possible. I wish I had your work ethic,” Skinny chuckled, scratching his chin in poorly faked embarrassment.

  Hearing this, a playful glint sparkled in Silk’s ocean-blue eyes. “Once you join the Sword Sacrament sect, they will work you like a dog,” she grinned at Pete, wiggling her eyebrows. “I bet you’ll lose all this chub in less than six months. Then we’ll finally be able to start calling you Fatty.”

  Cade couldn’t help but chuckle, while Pete appeared unbothered. “As long as I can get access to cultivation techniques, pills, and battle arts, I will do whatever needs to be done. If they ask me to bark, I will howl to the moon. I was lucky to be born with good aptitude; I’m sure as hell not going to waste it.”

  The trio of friends sat together for a while longer, chatting about everything and nothing before returning to their tasks. Still, his mind wasn’t at peace. He both dreaded and eagerly awaited the moment the pills were ready.

  Two days later, Pete and Silk departed for the city with their parents. This was a huge event, as both had a good chance of being accepted into the outer court. While becoming an outer disciple wasn't a dream come true for the scions of noble houses, for talented village youngsters, it was the most important moment of their lives. Being part of a sect gave cultivators the best chance to reach Foundation Establishment—an unrealistic dream for most young villagers. For Cade, however, just one tiny, fully manifested sphere would be enough to make him cry with joy.

  Three days after his friends’ departure, he finally harvested the plants and began working on the pills. The first step was simple in theory but far from easy in execution. He had to continuously adjust the flame under his battered cauldron, which required immense focus to maintain even heat distribution. Lacking access to alchemical fire, he had to resort to using dry wood.

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  Most young alchemists wouldn’t bother with such pathetic equipment, but he had no other option. He couldn’t afford a better cauldron, let alone essential qi pills.

  Despite these obstacles, he spent most of the day patiently refining the flowers. His mother came in a few times, bringing him water and dried fruit, her concern evident as she saw him covered in sweat, with eyes bloodshot from staring at the fire. His complexion was pale and his hands had multiple burn marks, but she knew Cade would not give up.

  Finally, late into the night, he began adding the potato starch filler he had prepared weeks ago. Exhausted, he at last held three brown pills in his trembling palm, weeping with relief. With a wide smile on his weary face, he quickly opened a simple crystal box from his father’s possessions and placed the pills securely inside. It was close to midnight, and he was so tired he simply collapsed into his bed, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

  —

  “Him?” a rough voice asked.

  “Yeah, he’s the last one,” another voice answered.

  “Alright.”

  Cade was brutally awakened by a terrible pain in his abdomen. He curled up and retched, his mind struggling to understand what was happening.

  “What…” he managed to spit out, before something hit him in the face with great force, rattling all of his teeth.

  “Get up, boy. Your time on the farm is over,” a rough male voice chuckled, and a couple of other voices nearby laughed.

  “What the…”

  Cade’s mind was still stuck between dreams and reality, but before he could come to his senses, he was struck again. An explosion of pain threatened to overwhelm him, as if his head had been smashed with a hammer.

  He spat out blood, struggling to stay conscious. Someone grabbed him by the neck, effortlessly dragging him outside. Before he could gather any strength to resist, he was thrown from the top of the stairs like a piece of trash. Cade slammed forcefully into the ground and his ribcage creaked, the impact pushing all the air from his lungs. The momentum sent him tumbling helplessly, gasping for air, and his head smashed into a rock on the side of the road. The world dimmed, and blood poured over his eyes.

  “Move away from my son!” He heard his mother’s piercing scream from behind, followed by the twang of a bowstring and an indignant roar.

  “Bitch shot me in the face!” a young male voice exclaimed, receiving more laughter from his companions.

  “Mom… run…” Cade attempted to warn her, lifting his head and desperately trying to breathe.

  Barely a few steps away stood a furious young man with a pockmarked face and short, brown hair. He was dressed in dark, nondescript martial robes. A white-feathered arrow was sticking out from a wooden demon mask lying on the ground. His eyes glinted murderously in the moonlight as his body released powerful spiritual fluctuations, suggesting he was in the fifth, maybe even sixth stage of Qi Condensation.

  The young man angrily kicked the mask, then with a furious roar lunged over fifteen feet in a blink, moving as fast as a striking viper. He landed smoothly in front of Leanne with a sword in his hand.

  Cade’s mother still clutched her husband’s shortbow, her hands trembling. Seeing the man close the distance so quickly, she instinctively tried to retreat into the house, defensively lifting the bow in front of her.

  Unfortunately, she was just a mortal. Though the doorway was only a couple of steps behind her, it might as well have been a million miles away. Leanne was incapable of matching the speed of a high-rank qi cultivator. Before her foot could cross the threshold, the young bandit roared, swinging his sword in a vicious horizontal arc.

  “Mom!” Cade screamed hoarsely, and right after, received a kick to the head. He struggled to maintain his balance as his vision blurred and swayed.

  All of a sudden, he felt something wet falling on his neck. Cade stared mindlessly at the red splatters on the back of his hands, thinking them his own. But then he noticed the red droplets falling all around him, as if the heavens wept from heartbreak. He tried his hardest to focus his eyes on his mother, finally perceiving a scene straight out of a nightmare.

  On top of the stairs lay Leanne’s headless body, still twitching, her nightgown drenched in blood. Next to her was his father’s bow, cut in half. Cade watched in a daze as her head rolled down the stairs toward him, each thud an explosion in his mind.

  No. No!

  Cade stared in horror at his mother’s unmoving eyes, gleaming in the light of the moon like two soulless marbles. Her face was partially covered with strands of dark hair matted with quickly drying blood. Every line on her face, every speck of dirt, every blood smear carved itself into his memory. The strong, metallic scent of blood hit his nostrils, and a sorrowful wail erupted from his throat.

  This can’t be real.

  Through a curtain of blood and tears, he gazed around like someone caught inside a nightmare they couldn’t get out of. He struggled to gather his thoughts through the terrible pain in his head. Between eye blinks, he saw three masked silhouettes a dozen feet away, laughing as if someone told a great joke, while the pockmarked man furiously kicked his mother’s body over and over again, the thudding blows resounding in Cade’s mind.

  “Bitch, you nearly killed me!” the pockmark-faced man screamed with indignation, then spat on the body. Finally, after relieving his anger, he walked down the stairs like nothing happened, cleaning his sword on a torn piece of her gown.

  Cade’s vision swayed, darkness stalking the edges of his weakening consciousness. He could not accept what was happening. He attempted to wipe some of the blood from his eyes, trying to commit every detail of his attacker's face to memory, but all he could think of was his mom’s soulless stare.

  In that moment, the gut-wrenching reality of the situation finally hit him, and something inside his mind broke. Rage exploded inside him like a wild river breaking through a dam, and his hand wrapped around a half-buried stone. With an animalistic roar, Cade threw himself at his mother’s murderer.

  “Insolent dog!” The pockmarked bandit snorted, calmly setting his eyes on Cade’s incoming silhouette.

  Regrettably, in terms of strength and agility, Cade was only a touch better than a mortal. The young man effortlessly blocked the hand with the rock and responded with a lightning-fast hook straight to Cade’s jaw. The force of the blow flipped Cade’s body around, and he smashed into the ground with his back, feeling as if he had been struck by a rolling boulder.

  “You’re lucky you’re worth a lot of crystals. Grab the other two and let’s go,” were the last words he registered, as the rock fell from his limp hand and his consciousness was finally conquered by the encroaching darkness.