Late Bloomer

Zheng State, Qing Feng Prefecture.

Qingmu County.

Li Residence.

The night was deep.

At the third watch, Wei Tu woke precisely to his biological clock. He rubbed his bleary eyes, rolled up from the earthen kang, and, feeling his way through the darkness, threw on an outer garment. He went to the stable outside, lit a lamp, and began mixing feed for the horses.

The scent of hay and beans mingled with the crack of eggs being broken. The half-grown black horse in the stable happily snorted and nudged Wei Tu's coarse linen shirt.

"When will this horse-feeding job ever end? And here I was, a modern man..."

"It's hard to get ahead."

Wei Tu sat on a blue stone outside the stable, pulled a dry tobacco pipe from his waist, stuffed some sun-dried tobacco leaves into its brass bowl, lit it with tinder paper, and took several puffs.

As two streams of thick smoke billowed from his nostrils, he leaned comfortably against the earthen wall, his eyes half-closing.

In modern times, his family had kept him under strict control since childhood. He had touched neither tobacco nor alcohol, much less the dry tobacco smoked by the older generation.

But now, he liked smoking.

For no other reason.

The stuff chased away fatigue.

After a smoke, more than half the exhaustion in his body would disperse.

After waiting a while, Wei Tu saw that the black horse had finished its feed. He knocked the pipe against the soft satin shoes at his feet a few times, then dusted off his backside and prepared to wash up and sleep.

Horses did not grow fat without midnight fodder.

The horses of the Li Residence had to be fed once at the third watch, so he had not dared sleep too deeply earlier.

If he ruined a fine horse, Master Li would certainly make him suffer for it.

Wei Tu drew up a bucket of sweet, cold well water. After drinking several mouthfuls and filling the gaps in his stomach, he raised the bucket and poured it over his bare torso, savoring the chill that seeped all the way to the base of his spine.

Before long, strips of grime rubbed from his body and fell to the ground.

"Have I gotten this old already? I'm only seventeen, yet I look like a young man in his thirties."

As he squatted to wash his legs, Wei Tu used the stable lamp's light to make out his current face in the muddy yellow water of the wooden basin.

His face was dark, his forehead lined with wrinkles no one his age should have, and the white hairs at his temples made him appear particularly old.

Only those clear black-and-white eyes barely revealed that he was still a youth.

Yet just then—

The face in the basin changed again. Wei Tu looked even older, shedding the weathered look of a youth and truly becoming a sixty-year-old man with wrinkled skin and crane-white hair.

At the sight of this,

Wei Tu staggered back several steps in fright. After a long while, he touched his face and pushed aside his wet hair hanging to his shoulders. Seeing that it was still black, he finally relaxed.

"Did I see it wrong?"

Suspicious, Wei Tu fetched another basin of clean water and looked down at its surface.

The reflection in the water was exactly the same as his current appearance.

But after a brief moment, just as before, his face changed once more.

The wrinkled, crane-haired old man who resembled him appeared again.

This time, Wei Tu did not retreat in fright. Instead, he carefully observed the "abnormality" in his reflection.

Several breaths later.

The water rippled.

Golden-purple light appeared between the brows of the wrinkled, crane-haired old man, gleaming brilliantly.

At the same time, golden light began flickering between Wei Tu's brows as well.

A golden seal bearing the raised characters "Late Bloomer" suddenly appeared in his mind.

"A 'Late Bloomer' fate?"

Wei Tu froze.

In his previous life, he had loved reading immortal-hero and strange-tales novels from a young age.

He knew that traditional culture spoke of fate.

The fate hidden in the unseen determined a person's life—whether one would be rich or noble, poor or lowly.

And the fate that had appeared in his mind was golden-purple, undoubtedly a legendary supreme fate.

It was only a pity that this fate was "Late Bloomer," and it seemed unlikely to greatly improve his current impoverished circumstances.

As if sensing Wei Tu's thoughts, the golden seal shone brightly and transformed into two lines of writing floating in his mind.

"Fate: Late Bloomer."

"Attribute: Unyielding perseverance, and success will surely come."

"Unyielding perseverance, and success will surely come..."

Wei Tu's mouth twitched.

"Success will surely come" was far too mysterious. Besides, if he only became a Late Bloomer when he was seventy or eighty, it would be utterly useless.

Once he was old and all his teeth had fallen out, even if his name was praised far and wide and his wealth rivaled a kingdom, he still would not even be able to eat meat.

Much less indulge in wine, women, and song.

"Since fate exists, then... do the immortals of legend exist as well? Living forever, roaming the Northern Sea at dawn and Cangwu at dusk."

Wei Tu was secretly excited.

If this world truly allowed one to cultivate immortality and attain the Dao, then his "Late Bloomer" fate would not be chicken ribs, but a priceless treasure.

"Though Qing Feng Prefecture has no immortals opening mountains to accept disciples, it does have martial artists who open schools, accept students, and cultivate the Martial Way..."

"These martial artists rely on the courage and vigor of blood in their youth, delighting in bravery and ruthless fighting. Once they grow old, hidden injuries emerge one after another, and they often die suddenly. Those who live to sixty are few and far between..."

"However, Martial Arts Secret Techniques are not entirely methods of Combat and Fighting Techniques. There are also Health Cultivation Techniques, which can prolong one's life."

"Those who cultivate Health Cultivation Techniques and do not delight in ruthless fighting are everywhere among those who live into their seventies and eighties. True Person Miaoying, recorded in the books, cultivated a Health Cultivation Technique and lived for more than a hundred years."

Thinking this, Wei Tu made up his mind to first find an opportunity to cultivate a Health Cultivation Technique, then seek out an Immortal's Cave Dwelling and Seek Immortality Through Discipleship.

With the blessing of the "Late Bloomer" fate, so long as he persevered in cultivating a Health Cultivation Technique, it would surely display its proper effects in his old age.

Once his lifespan was longer,

his chances of seeking immortality and attaining the Dao would grow greater.

As for the killing arts of the Martial Way, the realm was peaceful for now, so they were of little use. Of course, if an opportunity arose, Wei Tu would not be stingy about learning them.

Before this, aside from the fact that studying required poverty while practicing martial arts required wealth, there had been three other reasons why he had not practiced the Martial Way.

First, the Martial Way was difficult. Without the proper Spiritual Roots, it was hard to achieve anything.

He considered cultivating a Health Cultivation Technique precisely because it was easy to begin and had a low threshold.

Second, the power of the Martial Way was limited. Among martial artists, becoming a Ten-Man Enemy already made one a Martial Way expert praised across a region.

Hundred-Man Enemies and Thousand-Man Enemies were already figures of legend.

Third, martial artists fought for their lives on the edge of a blade. Most were idle drifters with no proper occupation, and few met a good end.

Most martial artists in Qing Feng Prefecture were saber wielders. They carried Hengshan Sabers forged in Hengshan Town—dismounting to farm, mounting to become bandits.

"Tomorrow, I'll first go find Second Aunt. She is Master Huang's concubine, and the Huang Residence employs martial instructors as guards. There may be a Health Cultivation Technique in that household..."

Returning to the kang, Wei Tu suppressed his delight at discovering his Golden Finger. After tossing and turning several times, exhaustion finally dragged him into sleep.

Morning.

The sky was barely light.

Wei Tu got up to feed the horses, then picked up a broom and swept the courtyard of the Li Residence.

When the master's household was about to rise,

he went to the kitchen to help the cook stoke the fire and prepare breakfast.

Feeding the horses and helping with odd jobs around the courtyard made up his day's work.

In Year 15 of Qing'an, six years ago, his father Wei Bao had sold him to the Li Residence as a servant, making him a tenant slave.

Fortunately, after several years of struggling and after learning horse-raising skills from Old Liu, the stableman, Wei Tu had successfully risen from a tenant slave to become the Li Residence's new stableman.

As for Old Liu, he had died of old age before the New Year.

Tenant Slaves and stablemen both appeared to be servants, but the former suffered hardship and exhaustion without wages, worked nearly to death by their masters.

A stableman, as a skilled worker, received monthly wages and ate from the same kitchen as the master's household.

Only the food was somewhat worse.

The master's household ate meat, while Wei Tu ate soups and broths with a trace of meat in them.