Days slipped away in the cycle of fetching water, chopping firewood, and sweeping. In the blink of an eye, Xiao Qi had spent over a month in the servants' quarters of Qingxu Temple. He remained small and thin, quiet as a weed growing unnoticed in a stone crevice, surviving tenaciously amidst the neglect of others and occasional bullying.
The flat-bottomed pot still never left his side, becoming a standing joke in the servants' yard. Yet this "weed" occasionally revealed an unusual resilience.
Once, a kitchen fire broke out. Though the flames were not large, they threw everyone into panic. Xiao Qi, quick-witted in the emergency, used his pot to scoop water from the vat and accurately doused the pile of dry firewood beside the stove—the most likely to ignite—curbing the spread of the fire.
Another time, Steward Li accidentally mixed a much-needed auxiliary herb "Frostblue Leaf" for the temple's alchemy room into ordinary medicinal herbs. Frantic and pacing, it was Xiao Qi who, relying on the faint memories of plants he had absorbed by osmosis back at Xu Lan Mountain Manor, carefully picked out those few leaves with fine white fuzz along the edges from a pile of similar-looking herbs.
These trivial matters, falling into the eyes of certain observant individuals, took on a different hue.
That morning, as usual, Xiao Qi was sweeping the courtyard outside the Transmission Hall. A gaunt-faced elder in deep blue Daoist robes, with eyes as sharp as an eagle's, stood with his hands clasped behind his back on the high steps of the pavilion, gazing into the distance below. He was Qingxu Temple's Discipline Elder, Xuan Lin. A man of stern integrity and strict enforcement of rules, most disciples regarded him with awe and fear.
His gaze swept over the bustling servant figures below, finally settling on the smallest gray-clad child. He saw the boy sweeping with extreme diligence, even scraping moss from between the stone cracks. Though his movements appeared clumsy due to lack of strength, they carried an extraordinary concentration and steadiness.
What caught Xuan Lin's attention even more was the child's eyes—clear and transparent, unlike other servants who were either numb, flattering, or cunning. Even while laboring, they held an almost pure clarity.
"Natural aptitude dull, but disposition shows some merit." Xuan Lin's heart stirred slightly, recalling the orphan with a mysterious background and chaotic spiritual roots that Xuan Chen had brought back a month earlier.
After pondering a moment, he slowly descended the steps. Xiao Qi was absorbed in sweeping when suddenly a shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw a dignified elder standing before him and immediately became flustered. He quickly put down his broom and bowed respectfully. "E-elder."
Xuan Lin gave a slight nod, his voice not loud but carrying undeniable force. "You are Xiao Qi?"
"Yes."
"Follow me." Without another word, Xuan Lin turned and walked. Xiao Qi's heart fluttered with anxiety, unsure why this stern-looking elder sought him, but he could only follow silently.
Xuan Lin did not take him to some solemn hall. Instead, they arrived at a secluded well in the backyard. Beside the well stood two huge wooden buckets and a carrying pole.
"Draw water from this well, carry it to the medicine garden water vat a hundred zhang away, and fill it. Time limit: one hour." Xuan Lin pointed at the buckets, his tone flat, revealing neither anger nor pleasure.
Xiao Qi looked at the buckets, too large for him, and his heart sank. But he did not hesitate. Nodding, he struggled to pick up the pole and hook on the buckets. The buckets, filled with water, were immensely heavy. His frail shoulders ached under the weight, his steps staggered, and water spilled along the way.
From the well to the medicine garden, a distance of a hundred zhang, felt like an impassable chasm to him. Gritting his teeth, he moved step by step, sweat soon soaking his gray cloth clothes.
As the hour approached its end, he had only made three or four round trips, barely covering the bottom of the large vat. Xuan Lin stood not far away the whole time, watching expressionlessly, not uttering a word.
Next, Xuan Lin took him to a clearing within a bamboo grove. "Sit quietly here until sunset. During this time, your body must not move, your thoughts must not stir." For a seven-year-old child who had undergone such upheaval, this was almost an impossible task.
Xiao Qi complied, sitting cross-legged. At first he could maintain it, but before the time it takes an incense stick to burn, his legs and feet grew sore and numb, his thoughts chaotic. The gruesome scene of his family's massacre, his parents' faces, the cold glances in the servants' yard... all sorts of images and sounds rushed uncontrollably into his mind, disturbing his peace. His body began to sway slightly.
Several times he almost gave up, but each time, a faint coolness would emanate from the jade pendant at his chest. Though it couldn't dispel all distracting thoughts, it calmed his restless heart a little. He struggled to recall the tranquility when his mother taught him to read, the gaze of his father instructing him in composure, forcefully gathering his focus to fight against his own weariness and scattered thoughts.
Though his posture tilted, though his brows were tightly knit, he ultimately did not rise on his own, stubbornly holding on until the sun set behind the western hills.
Finally, Xuan Lin brought him to a corner of the medicine garden. Pointing at several herbs that looked similar yet slightly different, he said, "Identify the 'Serenity Flower' and the 'Heart-Bewildering Grass'."
Xiao Qi leaned close, examining carefully. He had heard his mother mention both herbs. Serenity Flower had smooth leaf edges, its stems with fine fuzz, while Heart-Bewildering Grass had serrated leaf edges and smooth stems.
He crouched down, almost lying on the ground. Using the last light of the setting sun, he scrutinized the details of leaf edges and stems bit by bit, his fingers touching cautiously, afraid of making a mistake.
After quite a while, he pointed at one plant and murmured uncertainly, "Th-this one is Serenity Flower."
Xuan Lin's profound gaze rested on him—seeing his shoulders rubbed raw from carrying water, his persistence in enduring discomfort while sitting still, his focus and caution beyond his years in identifying herbs.
These three tests: carrying water tempered his sinews and patience, sitting still refined his willpower and concentration, identifying herbs examined his comprehension and meticulousness.
This child—physically weak, concentration just budding, comprehension not top-notch—each task completed haltingly, far from outstanding. But what Xuan Lin saw was his refusal to give up under absolute disadvantage, that innate resilience and clarity.
The evening glow stretched their shadows long. Xuan Lin remained silent for a long while before finally speaking slowly, his voice still stern yet seemingly a little less rigid than before.
"Starting tomorrow, you need not return to the servants' yard."
Xiao Qi looked up sharply, a flicker of panic in his eyes, thinking he had done something wrong and was about to be expelled from the temple.
But then Xuan Lin continued, "Would you be willing to enter under my humble guidance, as a nominal disciple?"
Xiao Qi froze, almost unable to believe his ears. A nominal disciple? This meant he would no longer be a servant at others' beck and call, but could formally begin cultivation. Though his status would still be lowly, it was already a world of difference!
Looking into Xuan Lin's sharp yet now faintly gentle eyes, immense joy and sorrow welled up in his heart. He "thumped" to his knees, his voice choked. "Disciple... disciple is willing! Thank you, Master!"
Xuan Lin extended a hand to gesture him up. "Rise. Entering my tutelage requires strict adherence to precepts, diligent practice without pause. Where natural aptitude lacks, make up for it with diligence. I hope you will not waste this opportunity."
"Yes! Your disciple will respectfully follow the master's teachings!" Xiao Qi kowtowed forcefully three times. When he raised his head, his eyes were rimmed red, yet his gaze shone extraordinarily bright.
He knew this was not the end, but a brand new starting point, full of unknowns and challenges. Yet he was no longer as bewildered and helpless as when he first entered the temple, because now he had a master, a future he could call a "direction".