The ordeal of the Divine Pill, though it had wracked Li Wei's body with its purging effects, had left him with a renewed sense of purification. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to affirm the warmth in his dantian—a warmth he believed was his nascent Golden Core, nurturing a fledgling Nascent Soul. Azure Dragon, his scruffy spirit beast, remained a loyal companion, curled by the stone altar as Li Wei pored over the scroll, its worn bamboo slats a sacred guide through his trials. The scroll's latest passage unveiled a reflective new challenge: "Legacy Building, where the cultivator sows the seeds of the Dao for those who follow. Craft a testament, that the path may endure beyond the self."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, legacies were grand—sects founded, sacred tomes written, or mystical artifacts passed down to disciples. The scroll's description was more introspective but equally compelling: "The cultivator's journey lights the way for others. Record the wisdom gained, and let it guide the seekers of tomorrow." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and countless trials, saw this as a call to immortalize his path, to ensure his struggles—real or imagined—would inspire future cultivators. His body, weakened by hunger, fever, and the recent alchemical purge, ached with every movement, but his spirit burned with purpose, fueled by the valley's mystical aura.
The valley, with its serene beauty, seemed the perfect place to craft his legacy. Li Wei envisioned a scroll of his own, a record of his trials, techniques, and insights, to complement the ancient scroll that had guided him. His notebook, filled with fervent entries about qi, tribulations, and visions, was a start, but it was chaotic—pages stained with mud, ink smudged by rain. He resolved to create something more enduring, a testament etched with the clarity of his Enlightenment Dawn. With Azure Dragon watching, head tilted, Li Wei gathered materials: flat stones from the pool's edge for tablets, a sharpened stick for carving, and the last of his "moon berries" to make a crude ink.
He began at dawn, sitting by the altar under the ancient tree's glowing blossoms. The scroll's call to "record the wisdom gained" inspired him to distill his journey into lessons: the lightning tribulation that tempered his body, the betrayals that strengthened his resolve, the visions that tested his truth. He carved each lesson onto a stone tablet, his hands trembling from weakness but guided by purpose. "Endure the heavens' wrath, for it forges the spirit," he wrote, recalling the storm. "Trust, but guard the heart," he added, thinking of Wang Hao and Lin Tao. "Seek clarity in simplicity," he etched, echoing his Enlightenment Dawn. The work was slow, his infected wounds and fever slowing his progress, but each carved word felt like a step toward eternity.
Li Wei also transcribed key passages from the scroll and stolen booklet, blending them with his own insights. He described the Heavenly Sword Art, the Divine Pill, and the Hidden Realm, framing them as triumphs of the Dao. The moon berry ink, mixed with the valley's water, stained the stones a deep purple, its faint glow reminiscent of the blossoms. Azure Dragon, ever curious, sniffed the tablets, his tail wagging as if approving. Li Wei imagined future cultivators finding his tablets, their qi ignited by his words, just as his scroll had ignited his own path.
Days passed, the tablets piling up by the altar, a small monument to his journey. Li Wei's fever spiked, his body protesting the effort, but he saw it as another trial, a sacrifice for his legacy. He scribbled in his notebook, hands shaking: "Legacy begun—stone tablets carved. Wisdom recorded for the Dao's seekers. Path endures." During the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, he shared his work, holding up a tablet, its purple carvings glinting in the campfire's light. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, called it a "sacred archive," urging him to hide it in the valley for future generations. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, praised his dedication but warned: "The legacy lives in you first. Heal your body." Chen Xiu and Zhao Feng, inspired, vowed to create their own records, though their debates hinted at ongoing tensions.
As night fell, Li Wei sat by the altar, the Starstone warm in his hands, Azure Dragon snoring softly. The scroll promised that Legacy Building ensured the Dao's continuity, but also warned of greater trials. The valley's whispers seemed to approve, their murmurs blending with the breeze. With his sect's support and the scroll's guidance, Li Wei felt ready to face the next challenge, his Golden Core and Nascent Soul pulsing as beacons of his unyielding pursuit. His tablets, etched with the truth of his journey, stood as a testament, not just to immortality, but to the man who dared to seek it, one carved word at a time.