Zhi Xuan remained standing, every muscle fiber tense. The acute dizziness had subsided, replaced by a cold sensation creeping on his skin from the leaden energy in the air. He felt the cracked wheel in his chest spin nervously, like a compass that suddenly found a foreign and overly powerful magnetic pole.

  He knew that escape was impossible. One step of this cultivator could cover an unimaginable distance. He could only gather the courage taught by Grandfather Wu—courage that came not from strength, but from the acceptance of fate.

  Zhi Xuan carefully walked to the rock covered with thick black moss, which felt cold and heavy under his touch. He sat down slowly beside the old man, ensuring every movement was slow and non-threatening.

  "I don't understand," Zhi Xuan whispered, looking at the gaps between the towering trees, which allowed the faint moonlight to touch the ground. "I... I'm just a mortal. We call you a cultivator. But what is an Immortal? And what do you mean by the Great Dao laughing at you?"

  The old man, who was sitting with a hunched back, did not turn. He only raised his thin hand. The movement was slow, but in his hand, the air trembled faintly. Zhi Xuan could feel the same spiritual fluctuation that had shattered his staff, only now it was more controlled. However, he suddenly seemed to realize something and lowered his hand again, the air rippling faintly above it.

  The old man turned his head to the side, looking at Zhi Xuan. The dark purple spiral eyes now seemed calmer, slowly rotating like two miniature, dying galaxies. "You... Who are you? Why are you here?"

  The question was delivered in a hoarse voice, but with a much clearer tone than his previous mad muttering—like a fog that had slightly thinned. Zhi Xuan flinched for a moment; the old man's suddenly different demeanor made him tremble, knowing he could not lie here. Mortal lies would be useless before a being who could fold space.

  Zhi Xuan lowered his head. "I-I'm just a shepherd, happened to be carried far here..." his voice trembled slightly; how could he tell the truth, about the incident where he was carried by the old man until now, far from his village, even in this environment he didn't recognize.

  The old man snorted softly, his voice returning to a confusing mixture of muttering and clarity. "Shepherd? Yes, right. You mortals. Always herding. Herding sheep, herding time, herding fate. You all herd in the pasture."

  The old man laughed, a dry laugh, but now more meaningful than pure madness. He touched Zhi Xuan's chest with his thin finger. The touch was not painful, but its coldness was piercing, as if the man's essence permeated directly into his skin.

  "You are unique, little shepherd. Your human wheel... it screams. It is cracked. It does not want to be a shepherd." Zhi Xuan froze, his chest pulsing violently. The touch made his cracked wheel spin faster, emitting a pleasant cold sensation, almost like being washed. It was direct confirmation—this cultivator saw the anomaly in his body!

  "You... you can see it?" Zhi Xuan asked, his voice choked.

  "See what?" The old man tilted his head, the purple spirals in his eyes spinning faster. His tone returned to rambling. "I see the void. I see all my efforts—all my efforts and my friends'—turned into a joke by Him. We tried to reach the Immortal for ten thousand years, sacrificing everything, crossing thousands of stars. And He just laughed at us, turning us into grains of sand evaporating in the morning dew."

  The dry tears on his face now looked shiny under the moonlight. He wiped his eyes roughly, then looked back at Zhi Xuan with a clear gaze again, although only for a moment.

  "You ask about the path of immortality," the old man said, his tone now sorrowful, as if a teacher was explaining a depressing concept to his student. "The path of immortality is those who break through the mortal limit, who turn the Human Wheel into the Divine Wheel. They live hundreds of years, master the elements, and can fly. That is an illusion, little shepherd. A good joke. Once you achieve it, you realize it is only a higher mortal limit. A larger pasture to herd in. We call our realm... Astral Transcendence."

  Zhi Xuan absorbed every word with horror and amazement. These words gave a horrifying context to the Divine Wheel dream Grandfather Wu had just talked about. Would the Divine Wheel only lead him to greater disappointment? Would the path of immortality always end in annihilation?

  "If... if it's all a joke," Zhi Xuan whispered, taking advantage of this moment of clarity. "Then, please take me back. Back to my little joke. I... I don't want to be here. My place is in the village. Can you take me back to where you took me from earlier?" The simple request from a mortal seemed to shake the mad cultivator. The purple spirals in his eyes stopped spinning.

  He patted Zhi Xuan's shoulder roughly. "Where are we, anyway?" he asked hoarsely; the old man looked around and tried to recognize his surroundings.

  The question stunned Zhi Xuan. "Old grandfather, you brought me here! You jumped with one step... You used an absurd technique!"

  The old man laughed, this time not a mad laugh, but a skeptical one. "Technique? Absurd? All cultivation is inherently absurd, little shepherd. But... me? Bringing you here? No. I was looking for my wine jug."

  He jumped down from the rock with a surprising movement, ignoring the injuries on his body. He walked a few steps, touched a towering tree, and a confused expression appeared on his face.

  "This... Star Burial Forest?" the old man mumbled, his voice clear this time, full of confusion like a madman regaining consciousness. He scratched his robe's hood, tilting his head to observe the surrounding trees. "Why am I here... This is not where my wine jug is!"

  The old man now looked much saner, although his focus was completely shifted. His dark purple spiral eyes—which now showed only a slight swirl—observed the environment with sharp detail, but he was only looking for one thing: his wine jug.

  "Impossible," he hissed, jumping onto the rock, and then quickly jumping down. His movements, although still clumsy and painful due to his injuries, showed much better coordination than before. "If I reached the Star Burial Forest, it means I have crossed at least thousands of li away. There is no wine jug here. And most importantly: who moved my rock?"

  "Your rock?" Zhi Xuan asked, confused. "You mean this rock we're sitting on?"

  "Of course this rock!" the old man exclaimed in frustration, pointing at the rock. "This rock is my Dao Home! I sit here, contemplating the Great Dao that laughs at me, waiting for my missing friend. It should be in the Jade Balance Valley, not in this dismal place! Who dared to move my furniture?!"

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Zhi Xuan blinked. He had seen the injured cultivator in the jade valley. Jade valley. Was the jade valley near his village the same place as the Jade Balance Valley? Or was it just a coincidence of the same name? However, now the mad cultivator in front of him showed a panic reaction that was purely personal, not cosmic.

  "Old grandfather," Zhi Xuan said carefully, standing up. "You said you were looking for a wine jug. What kind of wine jug?"

  The old man stopped, his mad eyes now showing an expression of deep melancholy. "The moon lotus wine jug! Wine brewed from the nectar of a lotus flower that blooms once every hundred years on the Thousand Star Dao Mountain! That's all I have left! And I left it under that rock before I... before I tried to fall asleep after eating fire-horned ox meat!"

  He knelt beside the rock, his thin hand that could fold space now scratching at the moss and soil like a frantic wild dog searching for a bone.

  "It's gone. No wine jug!" he complained, his voice sounding like a child's whine. He looked at Zhi Xuan with a pitiful pleading gaze. "Little shepherd, you look clever. Did you see it? That wine is very potent. One sip can make a mortal see eternity right before their eyes. But I just want to get drunk. Please, help me find my wine jug."

  Zhi Xuan fell silent, digesting the barrage of information he had just received. Astral Transcendence. Ten thousand years. A rock is a Dao Home. And now, a mad, severely injured Immortal, capable of folding space, was scratching the ground like a panicked squirrel, looking for a wine jug.

  The situation was getting strange, but the old man's madness now felt easier to deal with than cosmic madness. Zhi Xuan sighed, his courage now driven by pity and a very personal need.

  "Old grandfather," Zhi Xuan said, walking closer and crouching beside him. "I'm sure that wine jug is very precious. But please listen to me. This place is called the Star Burial Forest. Your wine jug—was it made of bronze, or clay?"

  The old man stopped his scratching. He turned to Zhi Xuan, his face smeared with dirt and moss. The expression in his eyes was now a mixture of deep sadness and a junkie's focus.

  "Bronze? Clay?" he snorted with disgust. "Wine that I brewed myself for a hundred years is not stored in such a lowly vessel, little shepherd! The jug is made of Heavenly Dragon Bone! It's faintly purple, and has a moon lotus carving on its lid! The essence inside is thick, as if thousands of stars have been crushed and melted into liquid!"

  Zhi Xuan flinched at the word Jade. His whole surrounding universe seemed related to that word—jade valley, jade essence, jade wolf, and now a wine jug made of stars, truly something not easy to grasp.

  Zhi Xuan rolled his eyes; he became annoyed either at himself or at this old man. Even Mingling's jokes seemed more interesting and real than the ramblings about heavenly dragon bone. "Alright, I'll help you look for your wine jug, but..." Zhi Xuan deliberately paused his words, waiting for the old man's reaction.

  The cultivator, who looked a thousand years old but whined like a toddler who lost his favorite toy, immediately turned. His purple spiral eyes, which were only swirling slowly before, now spun rapidly with a mixture of impatience and hope.

  "But what?! What do you want, Little Shepherd? Don't waste my time! Every lost moment, the wine essence inside will evaporate!" the old man hissed, his voice containing a thin tone of authority, even though he was scratching his long fingernails out of frustration. "Do you want a cultivation technique? I can give you a technique that makes you fly across the stars! Or perhaps... you want spiritual stones? I can give you Stones of the World's Origin!"

  The old man began to reach into the pocket of his tattered robe. His hand came out with a handful of glittering dust that looked like unnatural golden and black sand. The dust emitted a crazy energy fluctuation.

  "Here! This is the dust from a star I killed! Its value is immeasurable! Stop hanging your words and tell me what you want!" the cultivator shouted, frustrated that a mortal dared to bargain with him.

  Zhi Xuan immediately raised his hand to stop him. "Wait! I don't need a killed star, old grandfather! I just need something simple." He took a long breath. He had to take advantage of this fragile moment of clarity.

  "You brought me thousands of li away from my home, destroyed my reliable staff, and now you ask me to help you find a wine jug in the middle of a strange forest," Zhi Xuan stated, his tone now firm and unwavering. He used all his courage. "I only need two things, old grandfather, and I will help you."

  The cultivator frowned, dropping the star dust onto the ground where it was immediately absorbed by the moss. "Fine, two things. Say it quickly before I forget who I am."

  Zhi Xuan pointed to his own chest. "One. My Human Wheel is cracked." He leaned forward, his eyes serious. "The wheel pulses and gives me speed, but also drains my energy. You saw it. Can you tell me what it is, and how to fix it?"

  The old man blinked. His eyes were now fully focused on Zhi Xuan, his purple swirls slowing down until they were barely moving. He touched Zhi Xuan's chest again. This time, his touch was long, cold, and calculating.

  "Ah... this..." the old man mumbled, his voice sad and soft. "This is not a crack. This is the Heavenly forced into the Mortal. It is a forced miracle. This crack... it is ambition paid too dearly, Young One."

  He withdrew his hand, letting out a deep, trembling sigh. "I do not know how to fix it. That is your destiny." He patted his waist and a tattered scroll appeared; the scroll floated in front of Zhi Xuan, opening slowly and showing an image of a human body, revealing the human meridians and in the center was drawn a golden divine wheel. "But that doesn't mean you can't fight destiny, this is the four seasons breath scroll."

  The scroll was made of very old beast skin, smelling like ancient rain. The image inside was not just an illustration; Zhi Xuan felt as if he could feel the energy flow depicted in the meridians. Most interesting was the golden divine wheel in the center of the chest that pulsed—exactly where his cracked wheel was located.

  "What... what is this?" Zhi Xuan whispered, looking at the scroll in amazement.

  The old man now seemed to forget his annoyance about his wine jug, sitting cross-legged on the rock, and moving his hands in the air. With every slow and graceful movement, he carved faint shining Dao runes in the air. The runes were not letters, but pure energy patterns that felt ancient and majestic, shimmering in a dark jade color and radiating in all directions.

  "Before the first word was born, everything was absolute emptiness. When heaven and earth were created, good and bad were predetermined."

  The old man said slowly, the Dao runes began to radiate a pure golden color, emitting a majestic light. Every word he spoke was like an unparalleled extraordinary understanding in the universe.

  "Four breaths, the autumn breath can make stars fall, the winter breath can freeze stray souls, the summer breath can purify unmatched artifacts, the spring breath can clear the mind and heart."

  Every image of the seasons unfolded before Zhi Xuan, so stunning and so majestic. Like a mortal dream trying to grasp the stars, heaven and earth were so vast, the mortal expanse like scattered Dao flowers. The air around him rippled, as if the four seasons were truly surrounding him.

  "Only those who achieve true enlightenment can compete with heaven and stand equal with the immortals."

  The old man opened his eyes, and all the runes floating in the air immediately vanished, absorbed back into the tattered scroll floating in front of Zhi Xuan. The scroll now emitted a majestic divine aura, radiating towards Zhi Xuan's body.

  "Sit, comprehend the scroll."

  Zhi Xuan, who was fixated and mesmerized by the brief but majestic demonstration of the Dao Laws, immediately sat cross-legged beside the rock, mimicking the old man's position. He no longer cared about the coldness of the damp ground or the smell of moss. His mind was fully focused on the tattered scroll in front of him.

  "The Four Seasons Breath Scroll," the old man said, his voice calm and firm, like the sound of water flowing in an ancient river. "This is the highest foundation technique of cultivation in the Nine Heavens; a technique designed for a Heavenly Scion—someone with the pure talent to cultivate the Heavenly Dao."

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, absorbing every understanding he gained from the old man's every word, his focus now on his cracked mortal wheel, around which the Dao runes slowly began to enter his body, radiating a majestic divine aura.