Immortality Starts With Generosity

Chen Haoran stepped and paused. He stepped again and paused again. He waited.

And waited.

He began anew.

Step. Pause. Step. Pause. Wait.

Nothing.contemporary romance

Chen Haoran sighed. Back to the books it was. He had asked if there was a place to practice in privacy and was shown a place he was told Xie Jin personally used. Here the trees grew far enough apart to create a spacious clearing while their canopies grew wide enough to still cover the ground from view. He paced over to the light-dappled rock on which he’d set the Seven-Colored Steps of the Rainbow Stairs. Heaven-Rank was an apt name because trying to learn the technique was like staring into Heaven and hoping to spot an answer among the stars. He had initially thought he’d have an advantage in learning within the Basin. The whole place was covered with shifting rainbows, after all. Surely this place would be the ideal environment for visualizing rainbow-based movement.

Naturally, it was not that easy. Whatever he had done to comprehend the Scattering Petal Palm just wasn’t clicking the same now that he was practicing a technique two whole levels above it. He re-read the relevant passage and turned back to the rainbows scattered across the ground. The sunlight dimmed, a passing cloud briefly obscuring the sun above, and the rainbows receded. Chen Haoran followed them.

Red Step of Good Fortune.

Nothing.

Chen Haoran sighed.

The First Step alone was already so difficult, and according to the book, each consecutive step would only add more complexity. It had been an ugly shock to realize just how beyond other techniques the Rainbow Stairs were. Unlike the Canyon Carving Sword and the Scattering Petal Palms, which were singular methods of attack, the Rainbow Stairs were best described as several interrelated techniques combined into one book. While they shared the same base, each Step held its own twist that was unlike any of the other seven.

At this time, he missed Lan Fen. In such a short period of time, she mastered three Heaven-Rank techniques. Given the White Tyrant’s ego and power, there was no doubt they were top-of-the-line Heaven-Ranks as well. Now that he had one himself, he could appreciate just how monstrous her talent was to accomplish such a feat. If she were here, he had no doubt she’d get to the crux of the issue in an instant. She wasn’t here, though. He was. By choice, at that. He would do this. He could do this. Come hell or high water. He would learn this technique.

Not that any of that mattered if he couldn’t get over the hurdle of the First Step. He slowly breathed in and centered himself. The cloud passed, and the jungle bloomed with light once more. A wave of rainbows raced up one side of Chen Haoran and down the other in a long memorized pattern—Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Cyan, Blue, and Violet. Although, to be perfectly honest, the cyan looked more like indigo to him. He wasn’t quite why the book called it cyan. Perhaps it was a local perspective? Either way, if the book called it cyan, then Chen Haoran would too if that made it easier to learn; and if it didn’t, well… he’d cross that bridge later. For now, he just focused on the pattern.

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Cyan, Blue, Violet.

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Cyan, Blue, Violet.

Red—

Amorphous qi lunged toward Chen Haoran, and his liquid qi reflexively flooded out his body and covered him. He wasn’t the target, however. He quickly leaped away and looked behind him. Xie Jin’s Beetle Gu was there, sinking its mandibles into the air. Then the red spot of light moved, and a flat red bug was revealed where Chen Haoran’s leg had been. The bug struggled desperately, but a quick burst of miasma saw it devoured.

“A Red Light Assassin bug,” Xie Jin said as he stepped into the clearing. “It’s a species unique to the Basin. If it’s in red light, it might as well not exist, and its poison strips away all color from a person’s eyes but red. It’s one of the deadlier killers here.”

“First, thank you,” Chen Haoran calmly said. “Second, what the fuck.”

Xie Jin shook his head. “No need to thank me. There are other protections that would have stopped it anyway once it got close. I just did it a bit earlier.”

“Xie Jin, that thing was right next to my heel.”

“As I was saying.”

Chen Haoran shook his head in exasperation. Xie Jin was deliberately being a bastard, but he could appreciate him trying to divert his attention. The Red Light Assassin bug didn’t appear that strong to his sense. The issue was it didn’t appear to his sense at all. He cast his sense suspiciously across every single patch of red in the clearing, any number of them potentially containing another lurking predator.

“Don’t worry too much about it. You won’t find that many of them. Outside of red light, they’re so fragile a stiff breeze could knock them over.”

“I’m not worrying about them. I’m worrying about the crazy bastards who live next to them.”

Xie Jin showed a toothy smile. “Would you believe me if I said the Basin is the safest it’s ever been?”

“Not at all.”

Xie Jin laughed, and Chen Haoran fought to keep the smile off his face.

“It’s true, though,” Xie Jin continued after. “What you see now is the result of generations of work to make the Basin a safer place. Back in the old days, people never came back out after entering.”

“And your tribe figured that murder nest was free real estate?”

Xie Jin tilted his head in confusion. “Well, it wasn’t a fake estate.”

“That’s not—” Chen Haoran sighed. “Oh, never mind. How did your trip go?”

Xie Jin waved his hand. “Without a hitch. Anyone trying to find you now won’t, and anyone who tries will find themselves hunting for ghosts in the jungle.” He frowned. “I heard those Peach River bastards left before I returned?”

Chen Haoran awkwardly smiled. Jiang Lei and Wang Xiao were brought to meet Xie Ling the same day Xie Jin left. Whatever was said in that meeting, he didn’t know, but Jiang Lei and Wang Xiao didn’t stay in the Basin after it ended and immediately left. It was the last Chen Haoran had seen of them. Jiang Lei, in the end, didn’t speak to Chen Haoran or seek him out. It was comforting in a way. Worrying in another.

“They met your grandfather and left the same day,” Chen Haoran said. “I don’t suppose he’s told what they wanted?”

Xie Jin scowled. “That geezer never tells me anything. Even Si can’t get it from him.”

Chen Haoran shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”

Xie Jin looked like he was about to say something but hesitated. Out of some reflex, he looked behind him as if to check for eavesdroppers and then leaned forward. “It was a good thing you got rid of the spirit stone they gave you.”

A cold, creeping feeling of fear grasped Chen Haoran by the neck. He had fed the spirit stone to Phelps. He couldn’t help but feel cold terror that he had given the sloth something dangerous. Reason quickly reasserted itself and slammed that fear back, however. If the spirit stone were bad, then Phelps would have already shown side effects. Moreover, while he didn’t know him for long, he at least knew Jiang Lei well enough that he wouldn’t have given them something faulty like that.

“What was wrong with it?” Chen Haoran whispered.

Xie Jin grimaced. “It’s just suspicious. I’m sorry. I can’t say more here.”

Chen Haoran remembered Xie Ling’s warning. He could commiserate.

“Well, enough about that,” he said, forcing a smile to his face. He waved Xie Jin over to the book. “I’ve been trying to learn this technique, but I’ve been having trouble. Help me figure it out.”

“And what if I learn it too?” Xie Jin puffed out his chest with pride as he walked over to the book. “I’m quite the genius, you know.”

“Be my guest. Just make sure to teach me too.”

Connection: Negative

Xie Jin picked up the book and lazily scanned it. “You’ll have to kowtow nine times and call me master then— Chen Haoran!” Xie Jin’s voice pitched so high it was like a squeal. “This is Heaven-Rank!”

“Yeah, so make like a genius and figure it out.”

Two heads had to be better than one. Right?

Wrong. Two heads were not better than one. In fact, the addition of Xie Jin’s head made it worse. If learning this technique was an equation, then Xie Jin’s genius was an imaginary number. It just made things complex. No amount of exuberance on Xie Jin’s part that Chen Haoran would so readily share with him a Heaven-Rank technique would change that fact. Though as Xie Jin ran off to get his books and theory scrolls to cross reference, he swore to figure it out. In the end, Chen Haoran gave it up as a bad deal and called it a day. He still had other things to train, like basic combat.

Having combat experience in the Qi Realm did not prepare a person to fight in the Liquid Meridian Realm. While Jiang Lei had been an asshole about it when he stalked him that night, he was right when he said that rising in strength opened up a world of advantages. Now Chen Haoran had to train to make use of the new advantages that came with being a Liquid Meridian Realm. If he still thought and fought like a Qi Realm, then someone as talented as Jiang Lei or Lan Fen would inevitably capitalize on that.

That meant he had to control the flood.

Song Yuelin hadn’t been euphemistic when he called the Liquid Meridian Realm a walking flood. Liquid Qi surged through his meridians as if they’d sprung from a dam. It did this constantly, relentlessly. It pressed his meridians and expanded them to their fullest, enhanced them, then expanded them again. The only thing separating all this qi from rushing out and destroying everything in the surroundings at any given moment was a wall of meat and skin and an iron control imposed by his will. Even so, accidents could happen if he wasn’t careful. For a Liquid Meridian alone, there was no doubt they’d have an accident eventually as their control slipped.

Good thing Chen Haoran wasn’t alone.

The Yellow Dragon roared, and yellow liquid qi erupted from Chen Haoran before immediately condensing and surrounding him like armor. He tried moving, and the armor of liquid qi slipped from his grasp and expanded into a bubble. Chen Haoran transmitted his intentions to the Yellow Dragon and received a roar of agreement. The liquid qi condensed again. Chen Haoran brought his arm up and punched. The armor broke. Chen Haoran quickly slammed shut metaphorical flood barriers and cut off any more liquid qi from escaping. The remaining liquid qi outside his body spread out in all directions and scraped a layer of earth off the clearing before dissipating into the air.

The Yellow Dragon roared its grievance.

“There there,” Chen Haoran soothed it. “Practice makes perfect.”

If he needed evidence that the Yellow Dragon wasn’t the spirit of the Machu River in full, then this would serve. He had a feeling if it was actually the Machu, it would have no trouble controlling his liquid qi. While it may have been born of the Machu, it wasn’t the same. Still, the fact it was effectively another Liquid Meridian Realm within him was a gift so precious he didn’t know how to ever repay it.

Gift….

He turned his gaze inward and looked at the Yellow Dragon.

Connection: Valid

He wasn’t surprised, and yet at the same time, a surge of giddiness rose within him from seeing a Valid connection once again. Two slots. He had given up trying to figure out how to expand his Connections as fruitless. Now he knew how. So long as it wasn’t a one-time fluke, then Chen Haoran could expect to get a new Connection slot with every major Realm he advanced. That was far in the future, however. Now he had to decide his next Connection.

“So this is where you’d hid yourself,” a teasing voice called out.

Despite himself, Chen Haoran gulped.

“Hello, Bao Si.”

done.co