Immortality Starts With Generosity

Chen Haoran wandered the first Lan family camp he discovered in the cavern. He had decided against trying to attack it himself before. Lan Fen had no such compunction and had blitzed through the place like a whirlwind of steel while he was busy recuperating. The Lan family only established three camps in the cavern so far, both due to safety reasons and because they lacked manpower. The forces stationed in the cavern mostly consisted of the elites in the Lan family both to safely exploit the resources within and defend against monsters and to further the training of said elites. Because their development of the cavern was so secretive, it was impossible to dedicate too much of their forces here at once. However important it was, it was only one piece of their business, and such a large movement of fighters would be noticed no matter how careful they tried to hide it. Suffice to say, if Lan Fen had only attacked the cavern, and did nothing else then her actions here would be a grievous blow to the Lan family that would take years for them to recover from. Combined with her previous sabotage?

It was a death knell.

The ruins of the river island camp were an interesting affair. When Lan Fen had called the caverns a bathhouse, he found it hard to wrap his head around it. There were heated pools in abundance, yes, but how it was clearly a cave through and through and lacked any other conveniences one would expect to come with a place of rest and relaxation. Amongst these ruins, however, he could almost see it.

What looked like a fort to him on the outside was, in fact, an irony of ironies, a bathhouse. A bathhouse within the Bathhouse, so to speak. It did pose the question. Why, of all places, would they build a bathhouse in the middle of a flowing river when there were so many other pools to choose from? Well, first of all, they didn’t. According to Lan Fen there was never a river here when the bathhouse was built. It came later and the rock the ruin was built on was tall enough to avoid flooding, unlike many other low-lying buildings they had discovered the remains beneath the water. It was an interesting study of the changes that occurred over time in the secret realm ever since it became abandoned. In the end, however, it still led to the same question. Why build a bathhouse in such a location? There was only one answer.

There was something special about the water.

Emphasis on the was. In the entire ruin, there was only one pool, the whole facility seemingly dedicated to it alone. A circular thing twice the size of an Olympic swimming pool and deep enough that if Chen Haoran stacked four of himself one atop the other, his head would still fall short of clearing the edge. There was no doubt bathing in its waters was a privilege. The pool was unfortunately long empty, however, leaving only a basin and the indecipherable carvings around it. Lan Fen said that they were formation marks, a craft in which a person channeled the ambient energies of the world through what Chen Haoran charitably called a magical circuit, otherwise known as a formation. What power the carvings might have held was now long lost with its builders, for there were as many styles of formation as there were cultivation methods.

Well… it was almost long lost.

Still, there was something about standing inside this ancient pool that made Chen Haoran feel sentimental. When he closed his eyes it was almost as if he could hear the laughter of the ancients playing within the sacred waters of this bathhouse, growing in might even as they frolic.

“Do you really?”

Chen Haoran opened his eyes and looked up at Lan Fen, who had seated herself at the edge of the pool and dangled her legs in the open air.

“Of course, I don’t.”

“So you were making it up.” She quirked an eyebrow. “And here I thought you had gotten yourself some new ancestors as your reward.”

“If I got new ancestors, I would make sure they were the strongest in the universe, at the very least stronger than that crusty old ghost you call teacher.”

“I hope you share some powerful ancestors with me if you ever receive some.” Lan Fen sighed. “I, too, wish to say ‘You dare!’ and have my grandfather’s grandfather come and slay my enemies.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” It sounded a bit too insane, even by the new standards he’d been subjected to.

“No, the furthest I got was a great-aunt.”

Chen Haoran decided to not interact with that statement, instead cycling qi to his legs and leaping up next to Lan Fen.

“I didn’t know you liked ancient ruins so much,” Lan Fen said.

He puffed up his chest. “I’ll have you know I’m from a people who have a history full of old ruins.”

“Will you tell me about it then? About the place you came from?”

Chen Haoran deflated as if punctured by her words. He looked up to the cavern roof through the broken dome roof. “There’s nothing much to talk about. As much as I say, my people, I don’t really have much of a connection to them, just a name and a barely fluent language. My home doesn’t have cultivators either. The pursuit of power isn’t quite so literal.”

“Still, I am interested.”

He smiled. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday then.” He looked down from the ruined dome and back at the pool. “This place is special.”

“Did your bloodline connection tell you?” Lan Fen teased.

“There’s no water in the pool despite the massive hole in the ceiling.” He pointed out. “There’s no drainage either to take water away. I was standing right in the middle of it, but somehow I’m wetter up here than down there.”

Lan Fen frowned and cast a considering glance at the carvings that lined the basin.

“Plus, the roof,” he continued. "It’s broken, but there are no pieces of debris inside the pool or the room. Either something moved them or-”

“It was broken from the inside,” Lan Fen finished. She looked at him. “As I have said before, your awareness will become the greatest tool in your cultivation journey. Keep it honed and your path will only ever become wider.”

“I think I have a pretty wide start, to begin with,” he joked.

Lan Fen shook her head. “No matter how valuable the resources, how divine the technique, or how powerful the weapon, their worth all stems from one person. Never forget.” Her serious look morphed into a smug smile. “Or do you think that you, o’ Master of Gift-Giving, have surpassed me?”

Chen Haoran rolled his eyes. “What an unfair comparison.”

They settled into a companionable silence; there was no turn to awkwardness. No desperate need for him to fill the void in the air.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“About?” Although he already knew.

“You’ve put up with it well but there are some things only cultivators can properly deal with alone.”

“Am I not a cultivator?”

“Almost.”

He sighed. “It made me remember some things I’d rather forget. And it’s certainly given me new things I’ll never forget.”

“You are more relaxed,” Lan Fen said, suddenly changing the topic.

“I am.” It wasn’t a question. “This is really what I wanted in the end. Not having to worry about what I say or who I say it around.” He paused. “Minus all the killing of course. I can still do without that.” He hesitated and mouthed the words he wanted to say several times. He felt like a cow chewing cud for how many times his words went up and down his throat. “I’m glad you’re here, Lan Fen.”

“I’m going to break Song Yuelin when I see him,” Lan Fen promised.

“Step aside. I’ve already called dibs.”

They shared a laugh before Lan Fen turned serious. Chen Haoran felt the emotion bleed out from his face.

“He is coming,” she said. A vicious scowl flashed. “Lan Yao and a squad are with him.”

“That wasn't in your plan. Are they coming together?”

“They brought a boat from the outside. There must have been one hidden there.”

“What are my odds of getting out of here while you duke it out?”

"I didn't expect he would bring Lan Yao," She pursed her lips. She looked… guilty? “I apologize once again for involving you when there is no more need to. I could have taken you outside-”

“Don’t apologize for things we both know you wouldn’t do,” Chen Haoran interrupted. “You wouldn’t have let anything take you away from hunting the other Lan cultivators and preparing. It’s not like I would have been safer out there than in your ring space while I was still recovering.”

“I still think you should hide in there.”

“And what?” Chen Haoran bitterly smiled. “If that old ghost could leave the space ring at will, he would’ve never needed you to awaken him. I refuse to risk being trapped forever on the off chance you fail.”

“You could always become the White Tyrants successor after me. I’m sure he’d approve eventually with your power.”

“That stubborn bastard would sooner watch me rot away into dust than let me inherit.”

“Chen Haoran,” Lan Fen smiled. “Do you not have any confidence that I will win?”

“Not anymore.”

Lan Fen’s fake smile went away as quickly as she plastered it on. There was only grim approval now. “That is the mind of a cultivator.”

“Is that so?” Chen Haoran took one last look at the cavern roof. Phelps slowly floated down and wrapped himself around his back. He could feel the sloth’s Seventh-Layer cultivation humming through his clothes.

“How did you learn that?”

“When my father promised that I would lead the Lan family.”

“You’ll have to tell me about him sometime.”

“Someday.”

They stood there, staring off in the direction of Patriarch Lan, the air biting with coming cold.