"I've heard of them."

Taiping nodded, his small face washing over with profound longing.

"Uncle Zhao from the village entrance said there are Immortals residing on Yunlu Mountain, not too far from here. A few years back, that snake demon in Qingshui Town was slain by an Immortal who descended from the peaks. Soaring through the heavens and tunneling through the earth—it sounded magnificent."

The old man offered a weak, rattling chuckle.

"Then, Taiping, do you wish to be like those Immortals? To live forever, soaring through the heavens and earth?"

"I do. Of course I do!"

Little Taiping nodded without a shred of hesitation, though his enthusiasm quickly gave way to a sheepish smile as he scratched his head.

"But Uncle Zhao said that to step onto the path of cultivation, one must be born with a Spirit Bone. If you possess one, your name will automatically manifest on the Immortal Register. When that happens, an Immortal will personally descend to escort you up the mountain. Otherwise, possessing nothing but mortal bones, one can never cultivate the Dao."

A heavy layer of dejection weighed down the boy's final words.

"Taiping..."

The old man hesitated. A solemn gravity settled over his weathered features as he lowered his voice to a raspy whisper.

"If there were a Fated Chance... one that could engrave your name upon the Immortal Register, but required you to risk your very life... would you be willing to take it?"

"Engrave my name... on the Immortal Register?"

Shock widened the boy's eyes, swiftly replaced by the furrowed brow of deep contemplation.

"Grandfather, if such a Fated Chance truly exists, I want to try."

Moments later, he lifted his head, meeting the frail elder's gaze with unwavering resolution.

"Why? You do realize the cost could be your life?"

The old man smiled faintly, peering into the boy's crystalline, untainted eyes.

"If I become an Immortal, I can cure your illness, Grandfather!"

Little Taiping answered, treating the monumental task as the most natural logic in the world.

The old man froze, his breath catching in his throat before a profoundly tender smile graced his lips.

"Taiping... take... take this."

Trembling, he fought against his own failing body to raise his arm, pressing a battered wooden box into Taiping's small hands.

"Grandfather?"

Taiping stared at the worn wood, a knot of confusion forming in his brow.

For as long as he could remember, his grandfather had guarded this box as if it were his own life, never allowing another soul to lay eyes upon it.

"O... open it."

The command tore from the elder's throat, exhausting what little strength he had left.

"Alright..."

Swallowing his doubts, Taiping obediently nodded and popped the brass latch.

Inside the velvet lining, the boy found only a single, vermilion wax-sealed Pill and an utterly ordinary soybean seed.

"That red wax seal holds a Pill gifted to me by a wandering Daoist I chanced upon a decade ago. It is known as the Spirit Bone Pill. Once swallowed, it can temper mortal bones into Spirit Bones, forging a path for your name to appear upon the Immortal Register."

Anticipating the boy's questions, the old man gestured weakly at the vermilion sphere.

"Such a miraculous medicine exists in this world?"

Pure disbelief painted the young boy's features.

"The heavens and earth are vast, harboring endless wonders. What does a single Spirit Bone Pill amount to in the grand scheme?"

The old man gave a solemn, labored nod.

"But if this Spirit Bone Pill possesses such heaven-defying power, why didn't you consume it, Grandfather?"

A glaring realization suddenly struck the boy.

"The Daoist warned that this Spirit Bone Pill is only effective for youths between their ninth and eleventh winters. By the time this fortune fell into my hands, I was already sixty-three. Your father, your second uncle, and your third uncle had all long past the age of forty. To us, it was nothing more than useless dirt."

A bitter, self-deprecating smile twisted the old man's lips.

Deep-seated regret simmered palpably in his voice.

Had there been any other way, who would willingly forsake such a heaven-sent Fated Chance?

"Moreover, once consumed, the Pill's medicinal efficacy lasts for only half a year. If you fail to break through to what the Immortals call the Qi Transformation realm within those six months, the Sect will discover your mortal roots. Your name will be purged from the Immortal Register. At best, you will be violently expelled from their mountain gates. At worst, they will shatter your divine soul and wipe your memories, reducing you to a drooling imbecile."

The old man's sparse brows knitted together tightly as he laid bare the cruel reality.

The chilling warning sapped the color from Taiping's cheeks.

Yet, after a long, agonizing silence, the boy clamped his jaw shut and met his grandfather's gaze with burning sincerity.

"Grandfather, I still want to try."

To him, the equation was simple: enter the Sect, master the immortal arts, and drag his grandfather back from the brink of death.

Any risk was worth that price.

"Good."

Profound pride washed over the elder's face at the sight of the boy's unshakeable resolve. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he pinched the vermilion sphere, crushed the wax seal, and personally brought the true Pill to the boy's lips.

"Swallow it."

Taiping parted his lips and swallowed the Spirit Bone Pill without a flicker of hesitation.

The moment the Pill settled in his stomach, a soothing surge of heat erupted within him, washing over his meridians like a mother's gentle caress.

Beyond that fleeting warmth, however, nothing changed.

"Is... is that it?"

Taiping blinked, wholly underwhelmed.

"Within a few days' time, an Immortal from the peaks will descend to fetch you."

The old man nodded, his smile widening.

Beneath that smile, however, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned. Torment warred with elation in his fading heart.

The joy was obvious; Taiping was the light of his life, and seeing his beloved grandson embark upon the grand Dao was a dream realized.

But the terror was equally profound. The path of cultivation was paved with blood and bones. Should the boy fail within six months, he would be cast out from the mountain, his mind shattered, left to suffer out a pitiful, wretched existence.

"Treading the endless red dust of the mortal realm, mortal bones seek an immortal fate. Without enduring a thousand tribulations of the human world, how can one ever glimpse the heavenly gates parting above the jade pavilions?"

The cryptic, leisurely parting words of that beggar Daoist suddenly echoed in his fading memory.

Clinging to that verse, the doubt vanished from his cloudy eyes. Setting Taiping on this path was the right choice!

"Grandfather, what is this bean for?"

The heavy silence making him anxious, Taiping reached into the box and pinched the mundane soybean.

"The Daoist left that behind as well. He never revealed its true purpose. He only instructed that if you were ever fated to pass through the immortal gates, you must plant this seed within the spiritual soil of the mountains. When the time comes, it will bloom into another heaven-shaking Fated Chance..."

The old man's voice began to thin, growing dangerously frail.

"Cough, cough, urgh..."

A violent, wet hacking fit suddenly seized his frail frame.

"Grandfather! Drink some water, please, save your strength!"

Panic seizing his heart, Taiping lunged forward, desperately trying to support the elder's collapsing shoulders.

"Taiping... guard that seed with your life... What I have spoken to you tonight... you must never... never breathe a word of it... to anyone..."

Bony fingers dug into Taiping's small wrist with a terrifying, desperate strength.

"I won't! I swear I won't tell a soul!"

Tears stinging his eyes, Taiping nodded frantically.

"You possess wisdom beyond your years, my boy, but the world is a treacherous abyss. You must be eternally vigilant..."

Blood trickled from the corners of his pale lips. With a sudden, explosive burst of terminal lucidity, the old man seized both of Taiping's shoulders. His sunken eyes flared with a mad, piercing intensity as he roared with every last ounce of his vitality:

"Taiping! I spent my entire life chasing the immortal path, only to be shackled and broken by these mortal bones! You must fight! Fight and tear down the heavens for every mortal bone in this world!"

The moment the final word tore from his throat, the old man's spine locked rigid, and he collapsed dead backward onto the wooden planks.

"Gra... Grandfather?"

A horrifying chill plunged like a dagger into Taiping's chest.

His small, trembling fingers hovered beneath the elder's nostrils. He felt nothing. The spark of hope in the boy's eyes shattered into absolute darkness.

"I... I don't have a grandfather anymore..."

Taiping stood paralyzed, his vision warping as hot tears breached the floodgates. Unable to bear the crushing weight, he threw his head back and unleashed an agonizing wail.

He hadn't shed a single tear when his parents perished years ago. He hadn't cried when his flesh was torn tumbling down the jagged herb-gathering slopes. He hadn't even wept when rabid jackals trapped him in a lightless cave for three starved, terrifying nights.

He hadn't cried because he knew, deep down, he was never truly alone. He always had his grandfather.

...

On this freezing winter night, Little Taiping lost his grandfather.

And on this exact night, atop the misty peaks of Yunlu Mountain, a brilliant new name manifested upon the Spirit Bone Stele of the Qingxuan Sect—Xu Taiping.

"A youth by the name of Xu Taiping, hailing from Qingniu Village at the foot of the mountain, has manifested a Spirit Bone. Immediately notify the Peak Master of the Seventh Peak. Have him dispatch a disciple down the mountain to receive the boy."

The Elder guarding the stele calmly sealed a scroll, placing the parchment into the waiting beak of a pristine white crane perched by the grand doors.

"Your disciple obeys."

The spiritual crane spoke with a crisp, human voice before spreading its vast wings, launching itself into the sea of clouds.