Chapter Twenty-Four: Dragon Marrow

When he awoke, the sky seemed dim, as if dusk had already settled. Of course, in this season when spring’s vitality was at its peak, daylight was never meant to last long. Yet, that was not without its merits; at least, he felt that the numbness and soreness in his legs had completely vanished, and even his movements, such as flexing and stretching, were evidently more at ease. A faint smile appeared on his face, seemingly satisfied with the result. He cast a glance around the room, only then noticing a figure seated not far away.

“How did I end up here, you ask? Well, an old man goes wherever he pleases. Within this Blue Lotus Sect, save for a certain place I’d rather avoid, I’m free to come and go as I like. Boy, judging by your look, you’ve recovered well enough. I have no reason to feel guilty!” The speaker was, of course, Old Su. In the Blue Lotus Sect, men were a rare sight indeed; besides himself, the only other one here that Hantan Yi could count as his own kind was this Old Su. Unlike the youth, the old man seemed utterly transformed since their first meeting after waking, his whole demeanor one of peaceful leisure, as if the despondency he’d displayed back at the inn had never existed.

Hantan Yi sat up slowly; for him, this was hardly a difficult feat. At that moment, his hands moved lightly, and he felt the flow of spiritual energy—more nimble and even more abundant than before. He did not rush; reaching the table, he poured himself a cup of tea. Steam rose, releasing a subtle fragrance that soothed him, and his mind cleared a little more. He did not immediately drink; tea was always more tempting at a certain warmth, but impatience only led to scalded lips—hardly worthwhile. So, he waited. Since the other had come, whatever needed to be said would be spoken; as for what ought not to be revealed, no amount of questioning would yield an answer.

“Are all young people nowadays so arrogant and self-assured?” Seeing the youth silent, Old Su suddenly chuckled. In such an atmosphere, his expression seemed oddly out of place. Hantan Yi might not know the old man’s mind, but Old Su understood well enough—youth without curiosity was never normal, especially in a place like this, after such events. Still, Hantan Yi remained silent, picking up another cup and pouring himself some plain tea.

“Well, well, you’re matching patience with me, eh? If you don’t ask, I won’t speak. I’m comfortable here, well-rested, well-fed—can’t imagine being happier. Even if my life ended here, it would be worth it. But you, boy, you’re different. You carry burdens in your heart, people in your mind; you’ll never be content to stay. I’ll be going now, but there’s something you must hear. If you don’t ask now, you might never get another chance, even if you beg later!” He stood up abruptly, a hint of anger flickering across his face, though he hid it well. With a sweep of his sleeve, he moved toward the door, his manner resolute, unwilling to let any flaw be seen. Yet, the closer he drew to the door, the more his plan faltered. He was the one growing anxious, while Hantan Yi remained unhurried. Words, once spoken, cannot easily be recalled—especially for a man of his pride. So, step by step, he continued toward the exit.

“Shopkeeper Su, why trouble yourself so? Since you’ve come, it’d be best to say your piece. I’m not hard to please; speak plainly, and don’t dance around the subject, lest you end up embarrassing yourself.” Watching the old man slow his pace, Hantan Yi understood his mind—age brings a certain reluctance to let go of pride, a perfectly normal thing. So, he offered him a way out, lest he be accused of disrespecting his elders, a charge he’d rather avoid. Sure enough, at Hantan Yi’s words, Old Su paused, turned, and looked at the youth.

The tea was indeed fragrant. At first taste, it seemed no different from ordinary tea, with a faint bitterness that was almost unpleasant. Yet as it passed the palate, the bitterness vanished, replaced by a refreshing coolness that seeped through the throat, immensely enjoyable—like chilled ice stored within the cup. Hantan Yi couldn’t help but take another sip. But this time, the sensation grew stranger; the coolness disappeared entirely, replaced by warmth spreading from his mouth through his body, until he felt as if he were baking in an oven, steaming like in a bamboo basket, drenched in sweat.

Such sensations were altogether extraordinary. The Daoist of Heavenly Secrets had always been a master of tea, and following him, Hantan Yi had grown familiar with teas throughout the land, but never had he experienced such a transformation. After the second sip, his left side felt chillingly cold, as if he were swimming in a frozen wasteland, his left hand trembling as if to find warmth. Meanwhile, his right side was scorched by the blazing summer sun, as if a furnace burned nearby, sweat pouring off him.

“Boy, you’re bold indeed. This Blue Lotus Sect is no ordinary place, and you dare drink anything you find? Now you see its power, don’t you?” Old Su’s words were laced with smugness, as if his suppressed emotions had finally been released. His pace was slow, but the distance between them was short; it took little time for him to reach Hantan Yi. Though his words carried mockery, his actions were straightforward. He placed his left hand gently on Hantan Yi’s shoulder, and a surge of spiritual energy flowed from the point of contact into the youth’s body, forcing Hantan Yi’s own energy to move along his meridians. Perhaps due to Hantan Yi’s own resistance, the energy flowed slowly.

Hantan Yi wanted to retort—youthful pride would not let him yield so easily, especially after his earlier attitude. He did not wish to reverse himself in a single moment. But even as he opened his mouth, no sound came forth. Old Su seemed to know exactly what the youth wished to say. As his spiritual energy continued to flow, he let out a soft chuckle: “Boy, don’t be so stubborn. This Dragon Marrow Tea is immensely potent—even I wouldn’t dare drink two cups in an hour, and you gulped two at once. If I weren’t here, with your level of cultivation, you’d soon be crippled by its effects. Stop pretending; follow the direction I guide your energy, and resolve the turbulence within. That’s your best course.”

These words, Hantan Yi could not answer. Yet he knew Old Su was right. By following the direction of the old man’s energy, he let his own spiritual power flow accordingly. At last, the alternating sensations of ice and fire began to merge, dissolving into each other, and the earlier strange discomfort eased noticeably. He let out a quiet sigh, still with a trace of fear in his heart. When his gaze returned to Old Su, it carried a hint of gratitude.