Lauren opened her wide, innocent eyes. “I’ve never seen a female disciple in Buddhism,” she said.

  Viper gave her a long look, then a sly grin slid across his face. “Really? Heh—thought maybe there’d be another junior sister around.”

  Light smacked him on the head. “Disciple, don’t be ridiculous.”

  Viper ground his teeth but shut up. “Yes, Master.”

  Light inclined his head with a gentle smile. “Forgive me, benefactor—”

  ......

  “Bang!”

  “Ouch! Oh my! Someone’s been beaten to death…”

  The commotion outside signaled the end of the fight. Scar Butcher lay groaning, his head a mess of bruises where Flower Wife’s snake-headed staff had struck him. Flower Wife landed with a heavy step, planted her foot against his face and hissed, “You even think about going after my granddaughter again and I’ll stomp you into dog food.”

  “Okay, okay,” the butcher babbled.

  Viper clapped his hands like a fool. Everyone turned to stare. Viper froze, embarrassed, until Light’s stern look made him scramble for cover. “Master, I meant—uh—that it would be better for him. This butcher… he has potential. Why not let him drop his blade and become a Buddha?”

  The butcher spat blood and cursed at the suggestion.

  Light’s eyes narrowed with disdain. “He’s filthy with lust and blood. He’s no candidate for my order.”

  The butcher puffed out his chest and let out a relieved breath. Becoming a monk meant cold porridge and chanting all day—no thanks. Better to stay a butcher than to subsist on vegetables forever.

  He reached for Flower Wife’s staff. “I’m not going to eat her. Isn’t that fine? Put that damn thing down, will you?”

  “Hmph.” Flower Wife finally relented and let him take it.

  She hurried to Lauren and gathered her into a hug. “Lauren, you all right?”

  Lauren smiled up at her, sweet as a child could be. “Grandma, I’m fine.”

  Flower Wife’s face melted. She turned to Master Light, pride bright in her eyes. “Master Light, isn’t my granddaughter just the most adorable and dutiful?”

  Viper’s jaw tightened. Damn it—Flower Wife was trying to rope Light into protecting the girl. If Light officially declared the child under his care, the rest of them—six toughs and counting—would think twice before laying a finger on her.

  Light’s smile softened. “Good. Human nature is fundamentally good. Since the little girl accepts you as her grandmother, you must teach her the right path. Keep her from straying.”

  A low, funny laugh ran through the crowd. A witch teaching a child about virtue—now there was a joke. No one dared voice their scorn. Master Light could chatter the ears off anyone for days; he’d nag you to death with his sermons. And if he decided reasoning wouldn’t help, he had other ways of dealing with the stubborn—things that ended far worse than a dressing-down.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Flower Wife nodded again and again, promising to look after Lauren. Then she led the girl home and went off to settle her score with devourer once and for all.

  “Bah, you old bastard! I’ve treated you well, haven’t I? And you dare bring Butcher here to harm my granddaughter? Are you looking to make me your enemy?”

  The Devourer only smiled, calm as ever. No one knew where he had come from or what he had once been. Outwardly, he seemed harmless enough—a man who planted vegetables, raised flowers, repaired roofs, and built chairs. If not for the crushing aura of his cultivation, he might have passed for an ordinary villager.

  “Flower Wife, you’ve misunderstood,” he said lightly. “I never told him to touch your granddaughter. He caught her scent, that’s all, and went after it on his own.”

  “Hmph. Do you take me for a fool?”

  The Devourer sighed, reached into his robes, and pulled out a thin jade slip. He held it out.

  “The little girl carries immortal roots. Ordinary techniques will be useless for her. This”—he pressed the jade into Flower Wife’s hand—“is a high-level technique suited to her nature. Think of it as my apology.”

  Flower Wife accepted it warily. One glance at the inscription made her breath hitch.

  A Heavenly-grade technique.

  Such manuals were the treasure of treasures, hoarded by the three great Righteous sects, never to be seen in the hands of outsiders.

  Who in the hell was he? And how had he come to possess something like this?

  Then again—did it matter? It was here, and now it was hers.

  “Hmph. At least you’re not a complete idiot.”

  Humming under her breath, she left in high spirits, the jade clutched tight, and hurried home to Lauren. “Lauren, come here, look what I’ve brought you.”

  Lauren accepted it carefully, her eyes widening when she saw the mark of its grade. A Heavenly technique. She hid her shock and asked, obedient as ever, “Is this a cultivation method?”

  Flower Wife’s smile curved like a crescent moon. “Yes. You have a rare bone structure. Lesser techniques won’t benefit you at all. Only something of this level will allow you to retain the spiritual energy you draw in. Take it.”

  “Thank you, Grandma.”

  Flower Wife brushed her hand over the girl’s hair bun, eyes warm with affection. “This is an authentic Righteous technique. I can’t guide you in its practice, but study it on your own. If you stumble, tell me—I’ll ask devourer.”

  Lauren nodded sweetly. “Okay. Thank you, Grandma.”

  “Good girl. Go now.”

  Lauren returned to the quiet room Flower Wife had given her and drew out the jade slip with trembling fingers.

  The chance to leave would come in three years. In that time, she had to cultivate relentlessly, break through to the tenth level of Qi Training, and earn her place in one of the great sects. Only under the protection of such a power could she hope to survive.

  There was no other way.

  A man without guilt is guilty of holding treasure. Now that she knew she carried a rare immortal root, she had to plan for the storms ahead.

  There were only two ways to protect treasure: hide it, or flaunt it with such strength that none would dare take it.

  She had no intention of hiding. Playing the meek grandson for years was intolerable. Better to walk openly, blade in hand, and deter all who coveted her.

  And besides, only the great and righteous sects had the resources she needed—treasures and methods worthy of her hidden potential.

  “Ice-attributed, Heavenly-grade…” she whispered, eyes alight.

  The Evercrest family’s spirit stone had shown only her three roots: earth, wood, and water. But the truth was stranger—those roots had fused, mutated, and revealed her hidden gift: an ice root, rare and powerful.

  She didn’t panic. The spirit pillars of the great sects would lay bare her nature, down to the very percentages of her affinities.

  And this technique—this precious ice-attribute Heavenly method—was practically tailor-made for her. Heart pounding, she sat cross-legged and began.

  The five elemental forces drift through heaven and earth, but only those born with roots can sense them. And even then, perception depended on comprehension.

  Those with talent could feel it within minutes. The dull might never feel it in a lifetime. Most fell somewhere between—one to three months before they sensed a trace.

  Lauren closed her eyes, breath steady, and reached for the power of heaven and earth.