Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Without Strength, No Dignity

"Hahaha…" The white-bearded man let out a booming laugh. "Who could've predicted that on my way through this insignificant place, I'd discover someone so gifted…" He was abruptly interrupted by the elegant young woman, whose voice cut in cold and clear, "Li Yuanhua, she isn't right for your Lihuo Sect. I've decided to take her as my final and personal disciple." Li Yuanhua's glee froze like a duck whose neck had been caught, his laughter dying in his throat. For a moment, his face flushed crimson with anger before he roared, "Freya Jing, what are you playing at? You already have five disciples while I don't have a single one!" Freya Jing remained calm. "Once I accept her as my disciple, I'll let certain matters rest…" Li Yuanhua's face reddened until even his neck was blotchy, but no reply came, the words stuck in his throat. Ethan Moore finally understood—Freya Jing clearly had some leverage over Li Yuanhua. A tense silence hung for over ten seconds before Li Yuanhua forced out, one word at a time, "Freya Jing, I can compromise on anything but this. I must take her as my disciple. You can't just ignore reason. If I hadn't sensed her gift today, would you even know she existed?" Freya Jing's tone remained even. "She's never practiced, but spirals of spiritual light are visible at her brow. Even if you hadn't brought her for testing, I'd have come across her." Then, as if speaking to herself, Freya Jing took out a crimson paper bird and murmured, "Let me inform the Lihuo Sect first…" Seeing this, Li Yuanhua stamped his foot in frustration. "Fine, you win!" With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared down the corridor. Only after he left did Freya Jing turn her full attention to Luna Yates, her eyes now soft and expectant. "What's your name? Will you be my disciple? Come cultivate with me, yes?" Luna Yates, having cared for Ethan Moore for so many years, possessed a wisdom far beyond her age. She understood exactly what had just transpired; not only did she have spiritual roots, but hers were among the finest. Now this powerful woman wanted her as a disciple. As happy as Luna was to know of her own rare talent, she was also clear-eyed about what it meant—becoming this woman's disciple would mean leaving her young master's side. In Raozhou, whenever someone with spiritual roots appeared, they'd always left for cultivation alone; she'd never heard of anyone taking their family. "My name is Luna Yates. I can't go train with you. I want to stay with my young master." Her refusal was immediate, her voice steady. Freya Jing pressed, "Do you truly understand what it means to become a cultivator? Do you realize how many dream a lifetime for such a chance? Even your young master longs for it. Join my sect, and you will gain a long life, command respect, rule over mortals." Her tone was patient, coaxing. But Luna Yates only shook her head in silence. Freya Jing soon realized it wasn't Luna but Ethan Moore who held sway over her decision. Her gaze slid to Ethan, warm on the surface but frosty with thinly veiled disdain beneath. "Luna Yates has rare spiritual roots. If she stays here, she'll be wasting her gifts. With me, she could become one of the legendary Immortals you've only heard of. To keep her by your side is to ruin her future. Tell me, Ethan, does a real friend hold back the ones they love? You know what's best for her—be honest." After delivering this pointed plea, Freya Jing locked her stare on Ethan, waiting for his answer. Ethan drew a deep breath, sensing his irritation rising under her scrutiny. It was true: with roots like Luna's, she could train anywhere she chose. Li Yuanhua had just tried to snatch her as well. But how could he trust this stranger's intention? For all he knew, her promise of a glorious future was just a convenient lie to lure Luna away. If Luna were in danger, Ethan would rather keep her close, betting on his own knowledge and skills. Perhaps he could devise a way for her to unlock her potential, even without a proper sect. Had Freya Jing been upfront and sincere, or agreed to escort them both to her sect for a visit, perhaps he might have consented. But her imperious attitude and complete lack of explanation gave him no reason to trust her with Luna's fate. "No need for your good intentions, madam. Luna and I are perfectly fine here. Come on, Luna—let's go." He gripped Luna's hand, ready to leave. A flicker of malice passed through Freya Jing's eyes. She stepped swiftly to block their path. "Keeping Luna here is nothing but selfishness." Ethan laughed coldly. "What I do with my own people is none of your concern." Luna, wise beyond her years, sensed the situation spiraling toward conflict. She quickly spoke up, "Miss, is there any way to give my spiritual roots to the young master? If there is, I—" "Let's go—" Before Luna could finish, Freya Jing seized her arm and swept her from the room. "Young master!" Luna's cry echoed back as Ethan Moore's heart clenched, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. He dashed outside, but found nothing—no sign of Luna or Freya Jing. With a roar, Ethan slammed his fist into a nearby wooden rack. Blood seeped down his hand, yet he felt nothing—not pain, not relief. This first day in the new world, he had experienced helplessness and humiliation again and again. The leverage he'd felt negotiating with Lucas Lu was gone in an instant. Here, without strength, there was no dignity. … It was a full day before Ethan could bury the pain deep enough to return to Danhan Alchemy. Once a premier workshop in Chenyu, Danhan was now down to a single storefront and workshop, tucked away on a quiet side street. Ethan had to ask several passersby just to locate it. Lucas Lu was already pacing outside, waiting. When he saw Ethan, he burst into nervously cheerful laughter, ushering him inside with exaggerated warmth. "Lucas, your workshop's even harder to find than I'd imagined," Ethan remarked with a tinge of disappointment—no matter how he tried to shake off yesterday's blow, the lack of power still stung. He still desperately wanted to cultivate. In his previous life, he'd even developed a serum to expand human meridians. If meridians can be strengthened, who said people without roots couldn't find a way to unlock them? That small hope drove Ethan now—he wanted a lab, space for breakthroughs. But Danhan's decline meant there'd be little to work with. Lucas offered an awkward smile. "All we've got left is this workshop and a small shop out front. Still, the grounds are bigger than they look. There's a courtyard out back, and the neighborhood is quiet." Ethan nodded, letting the subject drop. He knew—the fact Lucas was willing to trust him with half the shares was itself a rare chance. Few would have dared such a gamble. "Lucas, you know my background. While I know alchemy, I'm not well-versed in the local market. Could we talk things over?" Lucas clapped his hands and led Ethan upstairs to the workshop's research floor. There, Ethan found a dozen or so machines—nothing fancy, but decent enough. He was a bit surprised; Lucas clearly understood that innovation—not nostalgia—was their only chance of survival. From the second-story window, Ethan also saw the large yard; Lucas really wasn't exaggerating. For his experiments, maybe this place would do after all. Lucas followed his gaze, a trace of sadness in his eyes before he brightened. "These machines are worth more than the shop itself now," he said with a bitter chuckle. Ethan nodded. "I can tell."