The days at Ironwood Sect were monotonous. Xiao Xuan spent most of his time on menial tasks—hauling water, cleaning the courtyard, cooking meals. The chores were endless, but they kept his mind occupied. Still, at night, when the rest of the sect slept, his thoughts always returned to the forbidden technique.
He had seen it once—an ancient scroll Chen Wu had handed him, its pages yellowed with age and its ink faded. The technique promised rapid cultivation, a power that came at the cost of burning the user's life force. It was a dangerous, last-resort kind of power, one only used by cultivators on the brink of death. But Xiao Xuan wasn't desperate. Or so he kept telling himself.
The first time he saw Chen Wu after their conversation, the senior disciple looked even worse. His face was gaunt, and his body had become frail, almost sickly. The forbidden technique had already begun to take its toll on him. Xiao Xuan watched him struggle to lift a bundle of firewood, the strain visible on his face.
"How's it going?" Xiao Xuan asked, keeping his voice neutral.
Chen Wu's eyes were distant, almost empty. "I don't have much time left. Maybe five years. But power... it's worth it. I've had nothing left to lose."
Xiao Xuan said nothing for a moment, the weight of those words sinking in. What if Chen Wu was right? Power was everything in this world. Without it, Xiao Xuan was nothing. He could keep to his slow pace and hope for the best, but the reality was harsh. He wasn't a young prodigy. Time was working against him.
That night, as the moonlight filtered through his window, Xiao Xuan sat cross-legged on his mat, the forbidden scroll spread out before him. The runes on the pages seemed to pulse, alive with dark energy. It was a simple concept: burn your life force to accelerate your cultivation. But the consequences were severe. It drained your years, robbing you of your lifespan.
Yet, as Xiao Xuan read, the temptation grew. His immortal life force could endure more than a mortal's. Maybe it wouldn't burn him out like it had Chen Wu. Maybe it would work for him. He could rise faster than anyone at Ironwood Sect. He could build the powerful cultivation family he dreamed of.
But was it worth the risk?
His hand hovered over the scroll, fingers trembling. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, he could reject the technique and continue his slow, methodical progress. On the other hand, he could take a shortcut. Power, after all, was what mattered most.
"Power or patience?" he whispered to himself.
Xiao Xuan closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his decision. He wasn't like Chen Wu—he didn't have a family to avenge or a life to throw away. He didn't need this. He told himself that he could wait, that he could cultivate at his own pace. His mind sharpened, and his body—though slower than others—was more resilient than any mortal's.
"No, I don't need this," Xiao Xuan muttered. He leaned back and exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his chest release. He wasn't desperate. He didn't need to rush.
But the temptation lingered, like a whisper at the back of his mind. The technique was still there, a dangerous promise of power. It was only one decision, one choice, that could change everything. Xiao Xuan's hand hovered over the scroll again. The cold parchment felt like fire in his grasp.
He closed his eyes. The image of his family, his friends, his vision of a powerful legacy, all flashed before his mind's eye. Wasn't this what he wanted? To rise above this world, to build something that would last?
No shortcuts.
The words rang in his mind like a mantra. He was not like the others. He would take the long road. He would endure, he would suffer if necessary, but he would not give in to the easy way out.
Xiao Xuan pushed the scroll away, closing his eyes once more. The temptation was there, but his resolve was stronger. The path he walked wasn't going to be easy, but it was his. No forbidden techniques, no shortcuts. Only patience.
Tomorrow, he would wake up and face the same struggles. But he would face them with a clear mind. He would build his power with his own two hands.
For now, that was enough.