Chapter Eleven: The Bodhi Seed

Perhaps it was compensation, or more likely, one more wouldn’t make a difference, and one less wouldn’t matter. In any case, before departing, Fairy Mo Xue agreed to Feng Ke’er’s request and allowed Bodhi to come along.

The High Priest apparently hadn’t been informed in advance; he cast a meaningful glance at Feng Queyi and the clan leader, then entrusted Fairy Mo Xue to take good care of the siblings on their journey.

Bodhi didn’t understand the common tongue, but judging by the situation, he knew he’d been accepted. He immediately prostrated himself, winking at Feng Ke’er with unrestrained joy.

Feng Ke’er felt a pang in her heart at the little fellow’s bright and mischievous smile. To her, the Azure Cloud Sect wasn’t a good place, especially not for children. Whether Bodhi’s journey would bring fortune or disaster remained to be seen.

The distance from Azure Cloud Sect to the Feng clan spanned more than a thousand li. If one traveled by sword, with Fairy Mo Xue’s cultivation at the Condensation Pill stage, it would take only half a day for a round trip.

Worried that Feng Ke’er and Bodhi, with their mortal eyes and bodies, couldn’t endure the strain of high-altitude flight, Fairy Mo Xue gave each of them a black silk ribbon to cover their eyes.

Thus, their first experience riding a flying sword was like being locked in a pitch-dark room—aside from the whooshing wind by their ears, they felt nothing at all.

When they finally untied their blindfolds and opened their eyes, they found themselves standing in the courtyard of an outer sect steward’s office at Azure Cloud Sect—a place where all new disciples, regardless of their aptitude or connections, were required to undergo entry training. Fairy Mo Xue had already informed Feng Ke’er of this rule beforehand. It was yet another regulation of Azure Cloud Sect.

Cultivation determined everything. Though Feng Ke’er was a registered disciple of Master Hui Lan, the master was proud and never accepted disciples without a Foundation Establishment. That was Hui Lan’s rule.

When Feng Ke’er learned this, she mourned her fate for three minutes: as a hopeless cultivator, she’d never become a true disciple. Perhaps that’s why Fairy Mo Xue had never really considered her a junior sister.

With so many rules, would she ever have the honor of meeting the great masters? Where was the way home? Heavily burdened, Feng Ke’er could only swallow her sorrow. With previous lessons in mind, she feared that sighing would break taboos and invite calamity.

Suppressing her worries, Feng Ke’er stood in the steward’s courtyard, looking around.

It was a modest four-sided courtyard. The houses within were true dwellings—not the half-underground, round grass huts of the Feng clan, but brick-and-wood structures reminiscent of ancient times, with pillars, eaves, doors, and windows. The bricks were unbaked clay, the roofs layered with thick golden straw. The ground was still earthen, but tamped flat and firm.

Fairy Mo Xue was dressed in a long green silk robe, her feet clad in colorful embroidered cloud-patterned boots. Her hair was elegantly coiled, adorned with pearls and jade, her entire demeanor marking her as an elite inner sect disciple.

Her arrival brought splendor to the humble courtyard. Even before she landed her flying sword, the people inside had set aside their work, rushing out of the buildings to form two neat rows.

“Greetings, Master Gong!”
“Greetings, Grandmaster Gong!”
...

Fairy Mo Xue still had to report to her own master and didn’t linger. She left the two behind, saying, “These are my master’s newly accepted disciples; take good care of them.” With that, she leapt onto her flying sword, hands behind her back, head held high, and departed with pride.

Her words were vague, instantly erasing any distinction between Feng Ke’er and Bodhi.

Bodhi’s face flushed red, his lips pursed, nervously watching Feng Ke’er as if afraid she would leap forward to correct the record.

But she was not so petty. Though Feng Ke’er felt something odd, she couldn’t pinpoint what it was, so she rolled her eyes skyward, pretending not to notice.

“Respectfully seeing off Master Gong!”
“Respectfully seeing off Grandmaster Gong!”
...

The courtyard erupted in thunderous voices.

Bodhi gazed admiringly at the departing figure in the sky, whispering to Feng Ke’er with awe, “Someday, I’ll be as impressive as her!”

Feng Ke’er shivered, staring at him in astonishment.

The little fellow was displeased, angrily demanding, “What, you don’t believe I can do it?”

“Of course I believe you,” Feng Ke’er soothed him, lowering her voice to whisper, “How come you’re speaking the common tongue of the Divine Realm now?” And speaking it so fluently! No wonder things felt strange earlier. Damn it, she’d been played by a bunch of primitive natives… No, sold out, and she’d even kindly helped them count their money!

Bodhi scratched his head, grinning sheepishly, “My sister taught me. She told me not to tell anyone.”

“Your sister?” Feng Ke’er was startled, thinking back, “The earlier Feng Ke’er?” Her mind was full of suspicion: hadn’t the High Priest said only a few people in the clan had ever met her? Who was lying?

Bodhi nodded, clenching his fist. “The priest said my sister was surely taken by bad people. The bad people are cultivators, so I want to learn skills and go find her.”

“Hey, you two!” At that moment, a round-faced little boy in a white robe with blue trim ran over, hands on hips, scolding, “Uncle Wen called you to collect your stipend inside—why aren’t you responding?”

Bodhi had just dropped a bombshell, and Feng Ke’er hadn’t fully recovered. She stared at him in bewilderment.

Bodhi was more quick-witted, his big, grape-like eyes curving into adorable crescents, revealing small tiger teeth as he cutely tried to ingratiate himself: “Yes, senior brother.”

“Senior brother, may I ask your name?”
“Your robe is so pretty! Did you sew it yourself?”
...

The round-faced boy, half a head taller, was flattered by the praise from someone his own age, his expression softening. “You two, hurry up! Don’t dawdle or you’ll earn Uncle Wen’s scolding.”

Bodhi secretly tugged at Feng Ke’er’s sleeve.

Feng Ke’er snapped out of it and gave him a grateful smile.

The two followed the round-faced boy into the east wing.

A young man in a yellow silk robe with blue trim stood before them, sizing up Feng Ke’er and raising his brow, “You’re the girl from the Feng clan?” He thought, The Feng clan of Great Green Mountain has sent a pair of promising disciples this time!

“Yes, Uncle Wen.” This must be the “Uncle Wen” the round-faced boy spoke of.

Uncle Wen chuckled, “Niece Feng, your beauty is truly remarkable—no wonder Grandmaster Mu favors you.” But inwardly, he thought: she doesn’t seem particularly outstanding; if not for her surname, why would the inner sect make such a fuss—Grandmaster Mu promising to take her as a disciple, Master Gong personally bringing her to the sect. This morning, even Master Tian came by, saying Grandmaster Mu ordered her stipend to be doubled.

Ah, even a fallen noble clan is still a noble clan!

Feng Ke’er was astonished: judging by his attire, he was clearly a Foundation Establishment cultivator—how could he not see that she had no spiritual roots, yet praised her as if she were a flower! Strange! Do cultivators suffer from nearsightedness?

Uncle Wen saw she still hung her head, meek and silent, realizing his flattery had fallen flat. He walked sullenly behind the desk, sat cross-legged on the mat, opened the register, and asked, “Niece Feng, can you write?”

Feng Ke’er shook her head. She’d told Feng Queyi clearly that she couldn’t write. Bodhi was right there; she couldn’t contradict herself. Besides, her goal was to find a great master and return to the modern world as soon as possible. She had no intention of staying here long—why show off?

“And you?” Uncle Wen asked Bodhi without looking up, “What’s your name?”

“Reporting to Uncle, disciple is called Bodhi, and I can write a few characters.” Bodhi replied smartly.

Uncle Wen hadn’t expected him to write and was already preparing to fill in their names himself. Hearing this, he looked up and appraised Bodhi, smiling, “Very good, come sign your name here.”

Bodhi walked over and quickly wrote his name, then stood respectfully to the side.

Feng Ke’er gritted her teeth, bowing her head even lower, cursing herself silently, “Pig!”

To clarify, she was berating herself.

She’d spent all this time worrying that she and Bodhi were like pigs waiting to be slaughtered. Now it seemed she was the “pig,” sold and even helping to count the money, while Bodhi was only pretending. Only she, the true “pig,” felt guilty over a supposed misunderstanding with the “pretender.”

Serves her right for underestimating primitive people. Who did she think she was? Clearly an idiot, yet completely unaware of it! They’d run rings around her! She berated herself mercilessly.

Never before had she felt so dejected, so powerless: utterly ignored by cultivators, like an ant, barely daring to breathe. Fine, those were non-human beings, she could accept that; but now she realized she couldn’t even outsmart the so-called primitives. She’d always thought herself cleverer than most, but the primitives were even more cunning.

Was she truly a failure—a failure, a failure, a failure?

“Bodhi? Hmm, a good name, and the writing is even better.” Uncle Wen glanced at the signature, nodded, then looked at Feng Ke’er with a playful, slightly mocking glint, “She’s your clanmate?”

“Reporting to Uncle, she’s my elder sister.” Bodhi raised his head, his dark, grape-like eyes sparkling.

Uncle Wen began to speculate: such a clever child—could he be the real focus, and the wooden girl merely a decoy?

More and more families now prioritized training their male children, leading to a surge in male disciples. Their numbers and cultivation levels were beginning to rival those of female disciples.

A curious phenomenon had emerged: some families sent pairs of siblings to the sect, but the brother was the real focus, while the sister served as a decoy and caretaker.

Hearing Bodhi’s response, Uncle Wen was even more convinced these were such a pair. Otherwise, with fierce competition among outer sect disciples and past tragedies befalling the Feng clan’s earlier disciples, how could Grandmaster Mu allow a Feng girl to enter so prominently?

Thinking this, he softened his tone, asking, “Then why do you know how to write, but your sister doesn’t?”

“Because… because…” Bodhi looked at Feng Ke’er, lost for words. His pink cheeks flushed, then paled, then flushed again, cycling through hues like a lantern.

He was still a child, without much skill in lying or adapting. Yet, remembering how the whole clan had tricked her, Feng Ke’er felt indignant. She bowed her head lower, shamelessly watching from the sidelines—these people could handle themselves. No need for an idiot like her to step in.

Presumably, the sister’s aptitude was too poor, and with limited resources, she had become expendable. But before outsiders, the brother couldn’t openly expose his sister’s shortcomings. Uncle Wen understood and his impression of Bodhi improved further. He kindly said, “If that’s the case, come help your sister sign her name.”

Bodhi picked up the brush and wrote “Feng Ke’er” beside his own name.

“Earlier, Grandmaster Mu had Master Tian come by with instructions—your stipends are doubled.” Uncle Wen rolled up the silk, smiling as he handed over two green cloth bags, “Here are your stipends for the next three months. Cultivation is personal; relying on heaven, earth, or others is less dependable than relying on oneself. I hope you both practice diligently and don’t let Grandmaster Mu’s painstaking efforts go to waste.”

“Yes, disciples will heed Uncle’s teachings.” This time, Feng Ke’er finally spoke, almost in unison with Bodhi, stepping forward to accept the green cloth bags with both hands.

Apologies—yesterday, I forgot to set the update time, and today was busy outside, so I didn’t log in to fix bugs, and only now realized there was no update today. Really sorry… Well, my skin is thick, so I’ll shamelessly ask for votes and reviews… Heh heh.

The Book of Heaven, Chapter 11: Bodhi—update complete!