The kindling of the Eternal Flame, though it had pushed Li Wei's frail body to the brink with its feverish intensity, had left him with a purified sense of purpose, his qi pulsing stronger as if his nascent Golden Core and fledgling Nascent Soul had been refined in the fire's glow. The hidden valley, with its shimmering pool, ancient tree, and glowing blossoms, pulsed with an energy that seemed to affirm his path to immortality. 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 new challenge steeped in humility: "The Hidden Master, where the cultivator seeks the wisdom of one cloaked in mortal guise, whose lessons test the heart's purity."
In the cultivation novels Li Wei had devoured in Beijing, hidden masters were enigmatic figures—wise elders disguised as common folk, imparting profound truths through simple tasks or cryptic teachings. The scroll's description was less grandiose but equally compelling: "Seek the master who walks among mortals, for their wisdom unveils the Dao. Approach with humility, lest pride blinds the soul." Li Wei, tempered by lightning, betrayal, and moments of clarity, felt a surge of anticipation. His thoughts immediately turned to Old Chen, the gruff farmer in the village at the foot of Mount Tai. Chen's practical lessons about the earth's rhythms, which Li Wei had reframed as "earth qi manipulation," and his skeptical yet knowing demeanor seemed to fit the scroll's description. Could Chen be the Hidden Master, cloaked in the guise of a simple farmer? Li Wei's body, ravaged by hunger, fever, and the throbbing infection in his hand, ached with every step, but the scroll's promise and the valley's mystical aura urged him onward.
Li Wei prepared with the reverence of a disciple seeking enlightenment. He reinforced his altar with smooth stones, their surfaces carved with star-like patterns inspired by the Starstone to channel the valley's qi. He placed the scroll, jade slip, Starstone, and stolen booklet at the altar's center, surrounded by the ancient tree's glowing blossoms, their light pulsing like a beacon for wisdom. Azure Dragon watched, head tilted, as Li Wei sipped the valley's crystal-clear water, its coolness a fleeting relief against his persistent fever. The scroll emphasized humility, so he resolved to approach Old Chen not as a cultivator but as a student, ready to learn. He packed his tattered backpack with his notebook and the Starstone, leaving the valley with Azure Dragon limping at his side, the trek to the village a painful effort but a necessary pilgrimage.
The village was quiet as Li Wei arrived, its stone houses bathed in the soft light of late afternoon. Old Chen was at his teahouse, tending a small garden plot behind the porch, his weathered hands pulling weeds with practiced ease. His wispy beard fluttered in the breeze, and his sharp eyes narrowed as he spotted Li Wei's disheveled figure—wild hair, tattered clothes, and a feverish glint in his eyes. "Back again, hermit boy?" Chen said, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. "Still chasing your immortal dreams?" Li Wei, clutching the Starstone, bowed low, a gesture he'd seen in cultivation dramas. "Master Chen," he said, his voice steady despite his nerves, "I seek your wisdom. The scroll says a Hidden Master guides the Dao. I believe it's you."
Chen snorted, leaning on his hoe. "Master? I'm just an old man who grows cabbages. You're too deep in your fairy tales, boy." But Li Wei pressed on, unrolling his notebook to show entries of his trials—lightning, the Celestial River, the Eternal Flame. "You taught me the earth's rhythm," he said. "That's the Dao. Teach me more, please." Chen's eyes softened, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his skepticism. "Alright," he said, tossing Li Wei a pair of gloves. "Help me fix this fence. Maybe you'll learn something besides your scroll's nonsense."
For hours, Li Wei worked alongside Chen, mending a broken wooden fence under the farmer's watchful eye. His infected hand throbbed, his fever spiking, but he focused on Chen's instructions: "Feel the wood, align the posts, work with the earth, not against it." Li Wei reframed it as qi alignment, visualizing his Golden Core channeling energy into each nail he hammered. The task was mundane, but Chen's words carried a grounded wisdom: "Life's in the doing, not the dreaming." As the sun set, Chen nodded, a rare gesture of approval. "Not bad, boy. Keep it simple, and you might find your Dao."
Li Wei returned to the valley, his body aching but his spirit alight. Had Chen been the Hidden Master, or just a farmer with practical advice? The scroll promised wisdom through humility, and Li Wei chose to believe he'd passed the test. He scribbled in his notebook, hands trembling: "Hidden Master faced. Chen's wisdom grounds the Dao. Qi aligns, heart learns." Azure Dragon nudged his hand, as if in approval.
During the next video call with the Order of the Jade Dawn, Li Wei shared the encounter, framing Chen as a disguised master. Zhang Wei, eyes wide, called it a "divine lesson," urging him to brew an elixir to honor it. Liu Mei, her serene face lit by moonlight, praised his humility but insisted he treat his wounds: "Wisdom strengthens the soul, but the body must endure." Chen Xiu saw it as proof of the Dao's presence, while Zhao Feng, skeptical, dismissed it as manual labor, sparking a debate that tested Li Wei's leadership. He hid his worsening fever and pain, fearing their concern might fracture the sect's unity.
As dawn broke, Li Wei sat by the pool, the Starstone warm in his hands, Azure Dragon snoring softly. The scroll promised that the Hidden Master unveiled the Dao, 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 of immortality, one humble lesson at a time.