Immortality Starts With Face

I stood in the center of the room, the lingering, oppressive pressure of my dual auras now withdrawn, coiled back within me like a sleeping dragon whose lingering presence could still be felt in the sudden chill of the air.

The psychological atmosphere that followed was of a different quality than before. Just a few minutes earlier, the air had been heavy with judgment and the sour tang of impending doom, a weight that pressed down on the spirit. Now, however? The room was filled with a kind of stunned awe that was almost a physical presence, a shimmering in the air that made it difficult to breathe.

All of this was a fascinating, almost academically perfect study in human – or, perhaps, cultivator -- nature.

One moment, I was the clan pariah. The black sheep that needed to be brought to heel. A problematic asset to be audited, censured, and stripped of his holdings for the good of the collective.

The next? A brief, almost trivial display of strength later – and I was suddenly the loved and celebrated genius. The clan's greatest pride. The second coming of our founding ancestor.

The speed of this one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn seemed to me to be both deeply amusing and profoundly cynical. Power, I reflected, was the only true currency in this world.

Not wealth, which could be taken away.

Not status, which could be stripped away.

Not even blood ties, which were clearly conditional upon a thousand unvoiced expectations.

But power was the ultimate solvent – capable of dissolving away all sins, all grievances, all prior judgments in the blink of an eye.

Power was the universal language of this world. A grammar of force understood by all – and one where I had just demonstrated perfect, terrifying fluency.

And thus, the tense, theatrical tribunal had instantly, almost comically, transformed into an eager, fawning council. My father's jubilant laughter had broken the spell of fear, replacing it with a wave of avaricious hope that was almost pathetic in its nakedness.

My dear family members have bombarded me with questions, their voices overlapping in their eagerness, their eyes shining with a greedy, feverish light.

"Li'er, what was the Immortal's spiritual pressure truly like? Was it akin to the pressure of a Golden Core expert, or something far beyond?"

"The cavern, Young Li! Describe the Cavern again! Are the spirit stone deposits truly as vast as you say? Are there any signs of high-grade spirit iron or star-silver?"

Even more amusingly, Uncle Zemin, our family's legal expert (who had earlier been so eager to accuse me of recklessness and waste of the family's precious resources), began earnestly suggesting they allocate a massive budget of spirit stones from the clan treasury to "support the Young Master's ventures," his earlier fury forgotten in the face of overwhelming potential profits.

"We must ensure our Clan Heir has access to every available resource!"

The irony was so thick I could have choked on it.

I remembered, with a fresh wave of amusement, the looks on my family's faces when, in the spirit of our newfound reconciliation, I had distributed some "gifts" in response. I had given two of the same type of storage rings I had earlier bestowed upon Feng and Yue to each of the "elders" present in the room. (For good measure, I'd given two more to Yue, bringing her personal total to four.)

The memory of their reactions was a precious thing.

I had watched as their spiritual senses dipped inside, and I had seen the blood drain from their faces, their carefully constructed masks of composure crumbling into slack-jawed, stupeified disbelief.

I had done a quick mental calculation at the time.

The entirety of the Jiang Clan's combined business operations—the mines, the trade routes, the workshops, the vassal-owned farms and martial herb gardens—generated, on a good year, perhaps three to four hundred thousand low-grade spirit stones' worth of profit.

It was considered an enormous sum for the poorest province of the Empire; more than sufficient to cement our position as one of the "three pillars" of Yuhang City.

Yet, each ring I had handed out as a casual party favor contained a literally countless number – definitely no less than five to six million -- of low-grade spirit stones.

And that wasn't even counting the small mountain of lower mid-grade spiritual artifacts. The high-purity pills. The exotic goods. The priceless manuals.

The total value contained in each ring was a fortune that dwarfed the entire Clan's annual profits many times over.

And, as if that wasn't enough, I had also presented each of them with a small, shrunken personal flying vessel – ones similar to my own, but with less extensive capabilities (as they were manifested with only Feng the Restored's comparatively weak belief.)

These gifts were just as impressive: after all, the Clan would have had to spend an entire year's worth of collective income to purchase even one such luxury item.

The wealth I had casually distributed as a peace offering had not just impressed my family; it had fundamentally broken their understanding of what was possible. They were no longer dealing with a lucky junior, but with a living, breathing miracle.

But one question, I knew, still burned at the heart of their awe, a question that underpinned their fawning and their fear.

How?

How had I, the clan's most infamous piece of trash, become so powerful, so quickly?

…

Which is why we were now here, deep beneath the earth in the clan's "Breakthrough Chamber."

It was a circular, domed space, roughly a hundred paces in diameter, its walls and floor crafted from smooth, seamless black jade that seemed to drink the light from the glowing formation lines etched into its surface. The very architecture of the room was considered a masterpiece of Feng Shui, designed to harmonize the ambient spiritual Qi, to create an environment of absolute tranquility and stability.

With my System-enhanced senses, I could keenly feel the effects of the formations: a gentle, humming pressure in the air, a sense of profound stillness that dampened sound and soothed the spirit.

This was a vital, almost sacred place for the Jiang family. Almost a kind of womb one could enter to be reborn.

For a cultivator, the moment of breakthrough was the most perilous of times. A single, fleeting distraction; a moment of doubt; an unstable surge of Qi – all of these things could lead to a catastrophic failure known as Qi Deviation: a terrifying event that could result in shattered meridians, a crippled cultivation base, madness, and even a gruesome, excruciatingly painful death. This chamber, with its powerful harmonizing and calming formations, was the clan's insurance policy against such a fate. It was meant to be a sanctuary where one could face their inner demons in peace; an artificial environment calculated to maximize breakthrough probabilities while minimizing the risks.

The air was still and cool, carrying the faint, clean scent of old stone.

My family—both of my parents, Yue and her father, as well as my Aunt and Uncle—stood in a loose circle, their faces a mixture of anticipation and nervous apprehension.

In the center of the room, kneeling on a silk cushion, was Lin Ruolan.

"...and thus, the spiritual imprint of the Immortal Master from whom I inherited this legacy," I said, my voice echoing slightly in the domed chamber, continuing an explanation I had already begun, "made me swear a Heavenly Oath. The method he bestowed upon me, which – with proper setup and resources – allows for rapid and safe breakthroughs even up to the Golden Core realm, can only be used on myself, or on those who truly 'belong' to me, whose karmic destiny is inexorably bound to my own."

I let the weight of that statement settle before continuing.

"Therefore, for this attempt to proceed without violating that sacred oath, Lin Ruolan must first formally transfer her Oath of Service to me. She must swear herself directly to me, before the Heavens themselves as witness."

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Jiang Tianheng, Yue's father, (his hand now perfectly healed by a high-grade pill I had generously given him on the way here) stepped forward, his brow furrowed with a deep, lingering skepticism.

"And, according to you, this ritual... will help this girl advance… all the way to Foundation Establishment?" he asked, his voice still holding a trace of his earlier condescension.

"And it will do that without killing her or permanently damaging her body or spirit root? Forgive my caution, Young Li, but it all just seems… so..."

I did not let him finish voicing his doubts to my precious audience.

I deliberately met his gaze, and – for a brief, overwhelming moment – I flared my dual auras once again.

"But of course it will work, Elder Cousin," I said, my voice calm but laced with an undeniable power that made the air crackle. "After all, how else do you think I advanced from a mere Stage 2 to the absolute Peak of Qi Gathering in a matter of only two weeks, and with a cultivation that is now even more stable than your own to boot?"

Predictably, the raw, oppressive power of my presence silenced all criticism.

The family members around the room nodded thoughtfully, their faces grim, quietly muttering to each other that this did, indeed, make an absurd, counterintuitive kind of sense.

Ruolan, her face a mask of solemn, unwavering devotion, performed a full, formal kowtow, her forehead touching the cool black jade of the floor. Her voice, when she spoke, was clear and steady, each word a vow that seemed to hang in the still air.

"This servant, Lin Ruolan, swears before the Heavens themselves. From this day forward, my life, my soul, and my belong to Master Jiang Li. Until I perish or am released from service, I shall obey his every command without question, follow him with diligence, and guard his secrets with my life. Should I ever betray this Oath, may the Heavens strike me down and punish me for my betrayal."

I could almost feel something brush against the very edge of my advances Qi senses. A very subtle shift in the fabric of reality. A faint, feather-light touch stirring the spiritual energy of the room.

Well, I'll be damned. That Oath did something after all.

Her destiny was now formally bound to mine.

I felt a strange, new weight settle upon me—the weight of her absolute faith. This was a genuine bond, a stark contrast to the transactional loyalty my family was so used to displaying. For the first time, I felt a flicker of true responsibility for another person's fate.

A feeling that was new, and slightly uncomfortable.

"Good. Very good," I said, nodding.

Now, for the theatrics.

For purely performative purposes, I began to draw a complex, single-use talisman on the floor around her, using a fine powder of crushed spirit stones mixed with a quantity of my own blood, which glowed with a faint indigo light.

Said work of art was an intricate, beautiful – and utterly nonsensical – design, a hodgepodge of energy currents meant to do nothing more than create a rather spectacular but ultimately meaningless light show.

I was, I had to admit, a little nervous. My Father was at least an initiate of the Talisman Arts. He definitely understood the fundamentals.

What if he saw through this fraud?

As if on cue, he stepped forward, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Son?" he said, his voice hesitant, "Forgive the old man's curiosity, but I don't quite understand this structure. I recognize an energy-gathering array here, and the channeling array there, but they seem… unconnected? Where is Ming's bridging structure? And shouldn't you be using some kind of stabilizing array too, to harmonize the five elements?"

I had to suppress a smile.

"Ah, yes, an excellent observation, Father! You're right, of course!" I said, my tone breezy and casual. "It's just that the bridging structure in this case will actually be shunted into the fourth and fifth dimensions for efficiency—after all, I could hardly have left it here in regular old three-dimensional space; why, I'd have to make the thing a mile wide! And, the stabilizing array isn't necessary for a one-time use structure if you calibrate the primary channeling arrays properly."

My father opened his mouth to say something else, but I raised a hand, cutting him off.

"Yes, yes, I know what you're going to say. Five-dimensional formations seem very basic for the proposed use – but hey, it's the best I could do on such short notice! Yes, I know that an eight-dimensional structure would be far more stable, but the components for it would be rather pricey, even for me... and…"

I trailed off, noticing everyone's expressions for the first time.

"...Hey, why are you all looking at me like that?"

Almost everyone present was staring at me as if I had just grown a second head. Yue, I saw, had a hand clamped over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. My father, after a long, profound pause, his face a perfect mask of confusion, finally spoke.

"Son... did I just hear you say… that you are setting up a five-dimensional formation?"

I responded with my own confusion.

"…Yes? It's a fairly basic concept, as I said… Wait, doesn't everyone use this method?"

There was another long, heavy pause of shocked silence, lasting for at least thirty seconds. Then, my father replied with a single, half-whispered word.

"No."

Yue finally lost her battle for composure and burst out into a peal of unrestrained, musical laughter.

Oops? I… may have overdone things a little.

+++

With the stage set, I helped to "prepare" Ruolan, her exposed torso once again a canvas for the acupuncture needles.

I then briefly stepped outside the chamber, pulling out an especially-made communication talisman.

"Master," Feng the Restored's voice came through, respectful as ever. "What can this humble one do for you?"

What a proper, respectful response. It would appear I have conditioned him well. Good.

"Feng," I said, my voice low and firm. "Listen closely, as this is important. My servant, Lin Ruolan, has just had a breakthrough and reached the Foundation Establishment realm. Reflect upon this and know it to be true."

I ended the connection without waiting for his response, and stepped back inside, my face a mask of serene confidence. I walked to the center of my nonsensical floor painting and placed my hand upon the central glyph.

"And now, we begin!" I proclaimed, while pulling the metaphorical trigger on my newly-made talisman.

The effect was instantaneous and far more dramatic than I had anticipated.

A massive light show of swirling blues and golds immediately erupted from the floor, and the formation began to suck in spiritual power with a ravenous, audible roar. The air in the chamber rapidly grew thick, electric, heavy with a density of raw Ling Qi that made it feel like we were submerged in a deep ocean of energy.

Ruolan's aura, which had been a steady flame, began to stir.

To grow.

To dance wildly.

These cues, combined with the spectacular light show, was all it took.

The awe, the wonder, and -- most importantly – the belief of every powerful cultivator in the room ignited as one. And the System did not disappoint.

[Mass Qualified Belief Detected.]

[Belief Source: Feng the Restored (BQT 6 Met!), Lin Ruolan (BQT 5 Met!), Jiang Family Members (BQT 5-8 Met!)]

[Analyzing Belief:

1) Lin Ruolan has reached the Foundation Establishment level.

2) The Jiang Li's secret method is capable of safely elevating a cultivator to Foundation Establishment and beyond.

3) Jiang Li's method is being used on Lin Ruolan.]

[SYSTEM ERROR: Current belief levels insufficient for manifestation of: '88 Trigrams Karmic Ascension Method'. (Required Belief Points: 16,483,552,000,000).]

[Analyzing Solutions, Please Wait…]

[Attempting Belief Consolidation]

[Consolidation Complete]

[Threshold Met! Partial Manifestation Initiated!]

[+250,000 Belief Points!]

The result was a spectacle of a lifetime.

Slowly, Ruolan floated up into the air, her body wreathed in a cocoon of swirling, golden light. Nothing of the sort had ever happened during my own advancements; thus, I suspected that the show was a direct result of the particular expectations of those present. The audience definitely wanted and expected to see something flashy and dramatic: after all, they were witnessing a revolutionary method wholly unknown in the recorded history of the Empire.

As we looked on, mesmerized by the spectacle, Ruolan's aura waxed, smoothly and unstoppably, without any signs of slowing down.

...

Stage 7.

...

Stage 8.

...

Finally, her Qi output arrived at the absolute peak of the Ninth Stage of Qi Gathering…

Then, it thickened.

Violently.

Ruolan screamed, a raw, agonized sound as not only her body, but the core of her very being – perhaps, even her Spirit Root itself – were forcibly shattered and reformed. The prop acupuncture needles shot out from her skin with a series of sharp hisses, all but turning to dust in the air.

A dark, truly foul-smelling cloud of impurities was physically expelled from the pores of her skin, a lifetime of mortal dross being purged from her system. It was sucked upwards into the swirling vortex of Qi above her, and utterly incinerated somewhere near the top of the chamber's domed ceiling.

Then, it all ended, just as quickly as it began.

The lights receded.

The maelstrom of Qi subsided.

And Ruolan landed softly on the floor, her body slick with sweat, gasping for breath.

Slowly, carefully, she examined her own hands – luminous with the faint, golden light that now seemed to emanate from her very skin – and her eyes filled with tears of pure, unadulterated wonder. In a matter of minutes, she had achieved a goal that – for most of those born with a Spirit Root – was the work of a lifetime.

And, more importantly for my mercantile-minded family, she had done so at a negligible cost!

While everyone else stood stunned into a reverent silence, my Aunt, Jiang Meili -- an aging woman who had been stalled at Qi Gathering Stage 7 for some time – decided to seize the moment. She rushed forward, her face a mask of desperate hope.

"Nephew," she said, her voice trembling, "this method... can it elevate anyone? Ruolan here did not need to possess a special bloodline or constitution to make use of it?"

Shit, I was afraid of this! This is the precise reason why I made up the Immortal Oath in the first place – otherwise, how could I explain my limitations in this regard without revealing the System's existence?

I began to explain once again.

"Yes, Aunt. But, as I mentioned, my Oath prevents me from using the method to help –"

But I was cut off.

Aunt Jiang Meili, a previously proud Elder of the Jiang Clan, immediately dropped into a full, formal kowtow before me, her forehead touching the cool, black jade of the floor.

Everyone stared at her, not knowing what to say.

She rose from the bow, still on her knees, her face set with a grim, unshakeable determination.

"What?" she demanded, looking at the shocked faces around her. "Do all of you even comprehend what it is like to be stuck at Stage 7, with no hope for a breakthrough, for over eighteen years? My allotted lifespan is running out! I am not about to let some Oath stand in the way of a real chance at the Dao! And besides," –

she added, her voice dropping to a pragmatic, conspiratorial tone, –

"let's not pretend Jiang Li isn't going to be the next family Patriarch anyway! I lose nothing by swearing my loyalty to him now!"

The others exchanged meaningful, calculating glances, their own ambitions and stalled cultivations clearly at the forefront of their minds.

I shrugged in magnanimous acceptance, before gesturing for her to continue.

Well, I thought to myself, a faint, tired smile on my lips, I suppose I could reapply the floor paint and do this whole song and dance a couple more times today.