Cultivating with Top Enlightenment Chapter 3: Eight Years is Too Long

True Martial Mountain.

It thrusts into the heavens like a keen blade, sheer and majestic. Once named Divine Sword Mountain, it received its current title when Taoist Longshan triumphed in a wager over the original owner, then founded the True Martial Sect atop it.

Over time, this peak came to be called True Martial Mountain.

Within the Thirteen States under Great Yan's rule, True Martial Mountain lies where Qing State meets Yun State. Taoist Longshan bore Ning Qi along the journey and often paused to forage for sustenance, keeping their pace leisurely.

At the mountain's base.

Taoist Longshan let out a deep breath, at last feeling at ease on his home ground.

Throughout the trip, he fretted over potential attacks, yet he now figured the hidden culprit assumed Ning Qi had burned away, oblivious to a survivor from Snow Plum Manor.

This strengthened his resolve to keep Ning Qi's background hidden for the time being, shielding him from peril.

Ning Qi eyed the looming True Martial Mountain with wide-eyed wonder.

While traveling with Taoist Longshan, he caught sights of regional traditions, piecing together a basic grasp of this realm he had crossed into.

This realm echoed the feudal eras of his old world, governed by the mighty Great Yan Dynasty. Yet it differed vastly, teeming with formidable warriors called martial artists.

Martial Artist.

Seekers of the Martial Path, boasting power and lifespan that dwarfed mere mortals.

The lesser ranks could smash boulders and rip beasts asunder with ease, whereas the elite could cleave streams and wield sword Qi over a hundred paces to command the waves.

And his mentor, Taoist Longshan, ranked among these elites, his fame echoing far and wide.

This filled Ning Qi with awe and a touch of reassurance. Though orphaned at the start, fortune smiled on him with such a stellar guide.

Right then.

A band of robust figures drew near; among them stood young folk and even a woman cultivator. Spotting Taoist Longshan, excitement lit their faces as they bowed in unison:

"Greetings, Master!"

Taoist Longshan gave a faint nod.

These eight were the pupils he had taken in before, each brimming with potential, on whom he pinned dreams of reviving the True Martial Sect someday.

"Wentian, what's the state of affairs in the sect these days?"

Taoist Longshan looked toward the straightforward youth leading them, his top apprentice, Luo Wentian.

Luo Wentian answered with deference:

"Master, the pupils stick to their routine lessons, and my fellow juniors train with great zeal."

The whole True Martial Sect.

Harbors hundreds of members.

They fall into Outer Sect Disciples, Inner Sect Disciples, and the elite eight True Disciples such as Luo Wentian.

Taoist Longshan grinned contentedly:

"Zeal is fine, but don't forget to ease up now and then."

"We obey Master's wisdom. Did all go well at Snow Plum Manor?"

The pupils' gazes brimmed with interest, less on Taoist Longshan's path and more on the child he cradled. In particular, the sole female among them, Ye Qinghe, and the baby-faced lad Qin Yun pulled silly expressions at Ning Qi to coax a giggle.

Yet Ning Qi just gave them a blank stare and turned away.

He wasn't some clueless babe, after all.

This only sparked their curiosity more, drawing broad smiles across their features.

Taoist Longshan skipped the teasing buildup; he glossed over the Snow Plum Manor events, instead beaming as he announced:

"This little one is Ning Qi. Henceforth, he's your ninth junior brother."

At those words.

Astonishment widened their eyes.

Since founding the sect, their master seldom picked True Disciples outright. Luo Wentian and the rest of the seven had climbed from Outer Sect ranks before earning True Disciple status from Taoist Longshan.

Qin Yun stood as the outlier, taken in a decade back and elevated straight to True Disciple for his stunning gifts— dubbed by Taoist Longshan as bearing Celestial Being aptitude, hinting at a slim shot at Martial Saint heights.

Who would have thought, after a full ten years, their master would claim yet another pupil, and one so young as an infant no less.

What's more, they sensed this ninth addition carried weight for the True Martial Sect's legacy.

Did this babe possess exceptional talent too?

The group offered their cheers:

"Master, joy on discovering such a talented heir!"

Taoist Longshan just smiled softly.

Qin Yun bounced forward to scoop Ning Qi from Ye Qinghe's hold. He teased Ning Qi's chubby cheeks with pokes, his affection plain as day. As the former baby of the bunch, he relished having a new little one below him.

Qin Yun's tone bubbled with delight; his energy surged:

"Ten years on, and Master welcomes another! Our True Martial Nine Sons stand whole at last!"

"Let our junior brother mature these eighteen years, and soon the True Martial Nine Sons will shake Great Yan, lifting our True Martial Sect back to its glorious peak!"

Laughter rang out from the lot.

Hope gleamed in their stares.

Taoist Longshan shared that sentiment.

True Martial Nine Sons.

A vision he conceived upon gaining the True Martial legacy, tied deeply to its sacred lore.

Per the True Martial heritage, should the True Martial Nine Sons ascend as Nine Great Celestial Beings, their might could match a Martial Saint.

Thus.

In bygone days, the True Martial Sect may not have birthed a Martial Saint each era, yet they stood unafraid of any.

It marked their zenith.

Then, for reasons lost to time, they faded into obscurity.

For ages, he held off on a ninth disciple, until destiny delivered Ning Qi right to him, as if the heavens decreed it so.

"True Martial Nine Sons, eh?"

Catching the heartfelt chuckles, Ning Qi found himself grinning, caught up in the cheer.

His elders all appeared kind-hearted.

A spark of excitement stirred for the days ahead on True Martial Mountain.

...

Truth be told.

Ning Qi's senior siblings treated him with real warmth.

Likely since he was the littlest and the closing addition to their ranks, his brothers and sister spoiled him rotten, with Third Sister Ye Qinghe and Eighth Brother Qin Yun often whiling away hours in play with him.

Ning Qi shifted from pushing back to embracing it all.

Before long, half a year slipped by.

He had woven himself seamlessly into True Martial Sect life.

Over these six months.

Ning Qi unveiled remarkable prowess, likely fueled by the thick Innate Qi coursing through him, propelling his body ahead of normal infants.

Thanks to peak comprehension, he absorbed knowledge at a staggering rate.

Mastering letters and script came easiest.

By just half a year, he toddled about firmly and spoke with clear fluency to all. This left folks stunned, proclaiming him a genius and buzzing to see his martial strides once his root bone ripened.

Still, this was merely the facade he wore; deep down, Ning Qi outstripped their wildest guesses.

With his frame still too tender, martial paths remained off-limits for now.

Once he grasped the realm's script, Ning Qi plunged into the True Martial Sect's vast array of lore.

Astronomy, feng shui, divination, healing arts...

Whatever caught his eye, he pursued.

In essence, he built bedrock for his coming martial journey.

Peak comprehension meant Ning Qi fretted not over strain. Through solo study, he delved deep into countless fields.

Taoist Longshan and the rest chalked it up to boyish whims, blind to his true depths.

Take healing, for instance.

Ning Qi already qualified as a miracle healer.

Drawing from ancient tomes, he forged the unified Ning’s Medical Book, plus wondrous needle arts like Hanging Needle Technique, Golden Needle Crossing Acupoints, and Ghost Gate Thirteen Needles. Only his youth in martial ways held him back; else, he'd soar higher still.

Even so.

Ning Qi brimmed with notions, eager to weave in fresh techniques once martial arts opened up.

As his form hadn't grown enough, martial pursuits waited.

But from the moment he walked sure-footed, one puzzle nagged at Ning Qi.

Namely.

How to hasten his maturing, strengthening his root bone sooner for an early dive into martial ways.

His seniors often noted that for most, root bones solidify around eight years, save for the odd prodigy with special builds that quicken the process.

To him, lingering till eight felt an eternity.