Night of the Broken Gliph

“Heaven’s Test Lightning isn’t terrifying merely because of its destructiveness, but because it can possibly unleash Heaven’s Flame. Nothing would be left but ashes if one couldn’t survive the Heaven’s Flame. 

“I have no idea why it’s in your body, nor the reason for its constant growth. However, I believe that it’s fate. You and your Heaven’s Flame are fated,” Ping Chi said seriously. “Fate is often forgotten as one of the crucial factors for cultivation. Since its fate that brought you together, don’t try to escape it. The Heaven’s Flame might be what brings you great success.” 

“Yet, the Heaven’s Flame was behind my suffering the past twelve years.” Chui Yim rolled his eyes. 

“Cultivation is meant to be tough.” Ping Chi sneered in reply. “Did you think it was easy for me to get to where I am today? What makes you think it was simple? Did you think anything in this world came free? Have you considered the price I had to pay to acquire my many skills and treasures like the Thirty-Six Night Lunar Needles?”  

Ping Chi spoke calmly, but Chui Yim could almost smell the metallic scent of blood. The chance to possess a treasure that once belonged to an extremely powerful cultivator would definitely attract countless people. Despite Ping Chi’s tone, Chui Yim could envision countless cultivators fighting for the needles, and many more willing to step over the corpses of others for them. 

Chui Yim frowned and kept silent. 

Suddenly, the solemn expression disappeared from Ping Chi’s face, and he changed the topic. “Alright! I’ll tell you about the Heaven’s Flame, and you’ll become my disciple, deal?” 

“What other conditions are there?” Chui Yim stared at him doubtfully. 

“What other conditions could there possibly be?” Ping Chi gritted his teeth. “I’m even begging for you to become my disciple now! There’s nothing I need from you. Instead, I will teach you everything I know about alchemy and medicine. There will also be unlimited resources too! Are you happy now?!” 

But Chui Yim shook his head. “Let me consider it first. This might be a precious chance in the eyes of many, and I’m sure that none of the younger generation here in Southern Ping would reject this offer. However, the title of master has a great significance to me. As the saying goes, a teacher for one day is a parent for life. There are many more things to consider besides those conditions and resources. I need to think it through.” 

Ping Chi held his breath and stared at Chui Yim complicatedly. “I get it. I was too anxious,” he spoke after a long silence. “I promise to teach you alchemy, and we’ll leave the matter of apprenticeship aside for now.” 

Chui Yim nodded, finally looking less solemn. 

The Ping Clan. Ping Ching’s Elixir Hall. 

Ping San Yat watched Ping Ching focus wholeheartedly on refining elixirs. After some time, the eyes of the childish yet unyielding girl lit up,  and an elixir shot out of the Frosty Flame Cauldron, making Ping San Yat smile.

“This is a good quality Recovery Elixir. I see that you have good form today.” He nodded while Ping Ching looked at him excitedly, wiping the sweat off her forehead. This was the childish side that she rarely showed anyone. 

“Why did you dress like a girl today?” Ping San Yat looked at his daughter, feeling somewhat sorry. 

“No reason,” Ping Ching replied calmly. Ping San Yat never minded Ping Ching’s gender. To him, ability and aptitude were all that mattered in a clan, and his daughter was stronger than even him in alchemy. She had a good chance to become a divine alchemy master. 

However, others felt that daughters would have to marry out eventually, unable to succeed the clan. Thus, the young Ping Ching retrieved the dusty gliph tool that was handed down countless generations from their storeroom, deciding to mask her gender. The world only knew Mister Ping, save for a limited few who knew of Miss Ping. Ping San Yat didn’t expect Ping Ching to sacrifice so much for the clan, but he watched silently as it saved him a lot of trouble.

“Father, do you think I should continue pretending?” Ping Ching asked suddenly.

Ping San Yat stared at her dumbfounded, and only replied after a pause. “Little Ching, you’re my daughter. You can do whatever you want. You are still only twelve, and your father will protect you for another few decades no matter what. Don’t think about things too much; just enjoy your childhood.”

After a short silence, Ping Ching looked up with shiny, doe-like eyes. “I know what I should do now, father.” 

Ping Chi patted the jade on his waist and held a bottle in his hands. “What is alchemy to you?” He poured out an elixir as he asked. 

“Refining elixirs with various herbs to help cultivation or produce various effects,” Chui Yim answered after some thought.

“Right, but also wrong. That’s just the surface of alchemy,” Ping Chi replied seriously. With that, he showed Chui Yim an elixir. “This is the Poorest Elixir.” 

Chui Yim jolted on hearing its name. The aroma of the elixir sent chills down his spine. He might not know alchemy yet, but he was no stranger to this elixir that could be found in many history books. The Poorest Elixir was created by a gliphist long ago. The gliphist wasn’t some famous expert, and this Poorest Elixir was his greatest accomplishment. 

It was an elixir that greatly raised the chance for gliphers to break through any chamber they liked. In gliphism, chambers limited one’s cultivation, which was why one and two-chambered gliphers were the most common. Leaving aside gliphists, gliphers were already rare; one needed to break through their innate chamber before reaching twelve to continue progressing while having ample time to store enough energliph to break through other chambers. 

Talent was a cruel limit. Take Chor Shing Chit as an example; he had to fill his previous two chambers before breaking through to his current stage. Now he had to fill all three chambers before he had a chance to break through once more. Nobody knew how long it might take. It might take a second, an hour, a year, a decade, or maybe it would never happen. Gliphism defied the heavens—one needed not only extraordinary perseverance, but one’s fate, talent and enlightenment played a huge part too! 

However, the Poorest Elixir threw this theory out the window. It ignored one’s talent and comprehension. All it relied on was probability, and there had been at least half a hundred cultivators recorded in history books who broke through with this elixir.