Chapter 115: I Am Your Dao

The figure was none other than Chen Xian. By midnight, he had finally located the stone temple hidden deep within the mountain forest. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips. "Found you."

With those words, he surged forward with sudden speed, closing the distance to the stone temple in an instant.

*ROAR!*

A tiger’s roar, sharp enough to shake the mountains, erupted suddenly. The sheer force of the sound waves sent the withered leaves of the surrounding ancient trees fluttering down in a chaotic flurry. Immediately afterward, several spotted, ferocious tigers burst from the underbrush, charging at Chen Xian, the uninvited guest, with murderous intent.

Chen Xian did not entangle himself with the beasts and continued his advance. Just then, he caught sight of two figures bolting from the stone temple, fleeing toward the distance. He recognized them instantly: the baby-faced, silver-haired freak and the tiger spirit.

Chen Xian accelerated, leaving countless afterimages in his wake as he charged ahead.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
*ROAR!*

Like a high-speed locomotive, Chen Xian barreled through the tigers attempting to block his path. The beasts were sent flying, their shrill, agonized roars cut short as they slammed into several large trees before crashing to the ground, bloodied and lifeless. In the blink of an eye, Chen Xian had vanished from sight.

Ten minutes later, atop a cliff, Chen Xian finally caught up with the silver-haired freak and the tiger spirit, engaging them in battle.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

Deafening roars erupted from the summit, shaking the entire cliffside so violently that rocks tumbled down as if in an earthquake, scaring away countless birds and beasts. Fortunately, the fight was brief, ending in just a minute. Had it lasted any longer, the entire cliff might have collapsed.

At the summit, the silver-haired, baby-faced man stood, his aura deathly weak, blood staining his lips, his face etched with despair. The tiger spirit beside him was equally feeble.

Chen Xian had defeated the freak with ease. Closing his eyes to sense his internal state, he found that the Supergod Tree in his mind had turned a deeper shade of red. He sighed softly: the energy from a grandmaster's attack was truly potent, far surpassing that of ordinary shells. He realized that to condense the ninth fruit, he would likely need to engage in battle with many more grandmasters, or perhaps withstand the bombardment of weaponry far more destructive than mere artillery.

The silver-haired man looked at Chen Xian, his voice thick with despair. "You... you are a Divine Realm powerhouse. I, Tong Yin, have offended you. Since I have fallen into your hands today, do with me as you please—kill me or carve me up, it is your choice."

In Tong Yin's eyes, Chen Xian was a being who had surpassed the rank of grandmaster—a realm he had dreamed of reaching his entire life, yet one he knew was forever beyond his grasp: the Divine Realm. The Divine Realm was a plane of existence far above that of a grandmaster; as the name implied, they were true beings akin to gods. Before a Divine Realm practitioner, all humans were merely ants, and grandmasters were but slightly larger ones. Tong Yin believed he had hit a wall of iron and was undoubtedly doomed.

Chen Xian studied the desperate man, his eyes shifting as an idea took hold. To rapidly advance his cultivation, he would require vast resources, yet he could not handle every matter himself; doing so would leave him no time to cultivate. He clearly needed subordinates to do his bidding. While he had the Ma family, their strength was ultimately too meager. It would be ideal to have grandmaster-level subordinates to carry out his tasks.

However, the idea of subduing a grandmaster was something other practitioners wouldn't even dare to imagine. A grandmaster would rather die than submit to another. After all, common things could never sway such a person. But Chen Xian was different; he had the power to offer things that would make a grandmaster's heart race. He could enable them to reach the next level, to attain the Divine Realm, or perhaps even higher.

"The Divine Realm? Perhaps," Chen Xian said, a sharp glint in his eyes as he stared at Tong Yin. "If you are willing to submit to me and serve with loyalty, I will not only spare your life but also allow your cultivation to advance by leaps and bounds. You will certainly break through to the Divine Realm, and even the realms beyond that will be within your reach. Are you willing to submit?"

The silver-haired man was momentarily stunned. His eyes darted back and forth as his mind raced. Seeing this, Chen Xian knew he had moved him. He had plenty of time and did not rush, waiting silently with his hands clasped behind his back for the man to make his decision. If Tong Yin proved stubborn, Chen Xian would not mind extinguishing him and turning his corpse into spiritual energy.

After several minutes of internal struggle, *thud!*

Tong Yin's knees buckled, and he knelt, bowing respectfully to Chen Xian. "I, Tong Yin, along with the tiger, am willing to swear an oath of loyalty to you until death. Should I harbor any duplicity, may I die by qi deviation during my cultivation!"

Practitioners took oaths very seriously; once sworn, they had to be honored, for to break such a vow would invite a backlash. Since Tong Yin had made such a grave oath, Chen Xian could safely accept him.

"Haha, this is excellent! From now on, you are my first disciple," Chen Xian laughed heartily. "I am your path!"

Tong Yin was overjoyed. Being a mere henchman to a Divine Realm expert was vastly different from being a disciple. A henchman was driven like a dog, given only occasional scraps, but a disciple could receive guidance and perhaps even inherit the master's mantle. The mere thought made Tong Yin’s blood run hot with excitement.

*Thump, thump, thump!*

Tong Yin bowed his head three times heavily. "Disciple Tong Yin pays respects to Master!" He hadn't felt this kind of excitement in years; his long-cooled blood was boiling once more.

"Haha, good, good, rise, my disciple!" Chen Xian stepped forward, reaching out to help him up. He was genuinely pleased; with such a disciple, he had gained a powerful right-hand man.

The two, accompanied by the tiger spirit, headed toward the stone temple. Upon entering the courtyard, Chen Xian’s eyes were immediately drawn to a plant, and he could not look away, ignoring all other medicinal herbs.

It was a silver-white herb, a foot tall, with tiny holes along its stem. As the night wind blew, the air passing through the holes produced a clear, melodic sound, like heavenly music, as if a beautiful woman were playing a flute.

This silver-white herb was known as the Silver Flute Profound Grass. It was a primary ingredient for refining the mysterious Opening Spirit Pill. According to the *Canon of Alchemy, Mortal Grade*, the effects of this pill could be described as heaven-defying: even for those without talent for cultivation, consuming a single Opening Spirit Pill granted at least a fifty percent chance to awaken their spirit wheels and step onto the path of spiritual cultivation.

Chen Xian had long wished to refine this pill, but the materials were impossible to find. Now, with the Silver Flute Profound Grass in hand, he had taken the first small step. With the Opening Spirit Pill, he could one day lead his parents, Zhang Xin, and his other loved ones to walk the path of spiritual cultivation by his side.

"Master, what is wrong?" Tong Yin asked, noticing Chen Xian’s trance.