The Dynasty of Cultivating Immortality

C8 – Transformation

At five in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Ni Huibo rose early, neatly folding his bedding and methodically arranging the books scattered across the floor. His room was stark in its simplicity, sparing him the need for extensive tidying.

After tidying up, Ni Huibo stepped out into the courtyard, his eyes briefly scanning a corner. He fetched a few bundles of firewood from that corner and began to chop. As always, his daily routine revolved around two essential activities: reading and cooking.

He had purposefully pushed the previous night’s events from his mind.

​The rhythmic sound of splitting wood echoed through the courtyard. After a few chops, Ni Huibo paused, his gaze fixed on his muscular arms. His skin had always been fair, but now it seemed even paler, his muscles brimming with newfound strength. With only half his usual effort, he had managed to make a dent in the damp log.

Surprise flickered in Ni Huibo’s heart.

To make sure he wasn’t seeing things, he promptly set another log on the chopping block and gripped the axe firmly. The blade, sharp and curved, caught the sunlight, casting a cold gleam. He swung the axe down with force, and the log split cleanly in two, the axe’s momentum carrying it deep into the block.

Ni Huibo was astounded. He had been chopping wood since he was five or six years old, a chore he had performed for over a decade. Yet today, the task seemed effortless. His strength felt greater than ever, and he sensed he could chop wood all day without fatigue. He positioned a second log on the block and, after a moment’s thought, used just 30% of his usual strength. Once again, the wood split down the middle.

​Ni Huibo stood in stunned silence, contemplating the possible explanations for this unexpected change.

Could the bead be responsible for this?

Yesterday, when the bead entered Ni Huibo’s body, he sensed an incredibly terrifying energy within it. Initially, this energy roamed uncontrollably within him, causing severe injuries. However, as he neared death, a cryptic chant seemed to echo in his mind. Desperate, he followed the chant, which alleviated his suffering.

Practicing the chant led to a miraculous healing of his wounds. It’s no surprise he awoke this morning brimming with vitality, his vision clear and sharp. He felt as though he possessed boundless strength, all thanks to the bead.

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Is this a sign that he’s destined to become a cultivator?

Ni Huibo was well-acquainted with the concept of a cultivator. Since childhood, he had yearned to pursue cultivation, knowing it was the only path to gaining the strength he craved. Only as a cultivator could he do what he desired. Yet, within the Ni family, he was less than a servant, with no opportunity to even brush against the world of cultivation.

He remembered, just days ago, his aunt questioning whether he wished to leave the Ni family and if he was curious about his parents’ demise. He had responded with disinterest in both leaving and in the cause of their deaths. But how could he truly be indifferent? Even if he had shared his true feelings, his aunt might have withheld the truth. The memory of his uncle’s reaction when he was younger was etched in his mind: the tight grip on his arm, the intense gaze for long seconds before abruptly letting go and walking away without a backward glance. The bruises on his arm had terrified him, a fear that lingered for years.

These experiences had taught him to remain silent about his parents.

Yet, silence didn’t equate to forgetfulness.

Whenever he had a moment to himself, his thoughts would inevitably drift to these matters. He desperately wanted to know the truth about his parents’ deaths and to escape the Ni family. He longed to break free from the courtyard that had been his prison for sixteen years. Now, with the prospect of becoming a cultivator before him, he was determined to grasp this chance to grow stronger and unravel the mysteries that haunted him. He refused to live in ignorance any longer.

As he pondered, a series of knocks echoed through the silent courtyard.

Three deliberate knocks, neither too soft nor too forceful, unhurried. His aunt had just visited the day before; why was she back again today? Was it because of last night’s incident?

Ni Huibo collected his thoughts and rolled up his sleeve. After straightening his attire, he opened the door.

Indeed, it was Ni Ruiyuan.

As he had done previously, he greeted her with respect and invited her inside.

Ni Ruiyuan stepped into the courtyard, her gaze falling on the firewood strewn across the ground. “Haven’t you eaten yet?” she inquired.

“I haven’t eaten. Would you like to join me? I’ll start cooking the noodles right now,” Ni Huibo responded promptly.

“There’s no need to go to any trouble.”

Observing the axe marks on the chopping block and the knife resting atop it, Ni Ruiyuan arched an eyebrow. “Stay put for the next few days, and don’t venture out. Until the stolen treasures from City Hall are recovered, the Immortal Cultivation Hall won’t rest. The thief’s whereabouts are currently unknown, so you must remain vigilant at all times.”

Ni Huibo looked at her, words on the tip of his tongue, but he held back.

With a smile, Ni Ruiyuan advised, “Be frugal with the silver coins I brought you yesterday. Keep that money hidden and be cautious—don’t draw unwanted attention.”

She left the courtyard swiftly, not waiting for Ni Huibo to respond.

Once outside, Ni Ruiyuan’s brow furrowed with concern. She was aware that the Immortal Cultivation Hall had searched Ni Huibo’s place the previous day. Worried for him, she made her way to his courtyard, only to discover Ni Huibo sitting on the ground, drenched in blood. Behind him, a figure clad in black was channeling spiritual energy into his palm, poised to strike down on Ni Huibo’s head. Startled, she instantly gathered all her spiritual energy and launched it at the assailant’s hand.

The thief, sensing the imminent threat, fled without a backward glance. Ni Ruiyuan rushed to Ni Huibo’s side, relieved to find that despite the blood, his breath was steady and strong. Spiritual energy swirled around him, forming a vortex—a phenomenon exclusive to those immersed in the art of cultivation.

Ni Ruiyuan was utterly astonished at the time. How had Ni Huibo acquired the cultivation method? The hand seals he was forming were certainly not those taught by the Ni family. They were exceedingly intricate, to the point where even she struggled to comprehend them. Moreover, the purity of the spiritual energy surrounding him was unlike any ordinary spiritual energy!

At that moment, Ni Ruiyuan had a hunch…

Everyone has their secrets, and she couldn’t help but think that this child’s life had been anything but easy.

Her elder brother forbade Ni Huibo from pursuing cultivation, wishing for him to live an ordinary life forever. But how could she stand by and allow that? After all, what if Ni Huibo possessed a rare talent like his father? To deny him would be grossly unfair.

Looking at Ni Huibo’s youthful face, Ni Ruiyuan felt compelled to question him about it, but ultimately, she chose to walk away.

If the heavens themselves couldn’t prevent Ni Huibo from following the path of cultivation, then she, as his aunt, had no right to either.

She would act as though she had never visited the night before.

She would act as though she knew nothing at all…