Chapter 11: The Ceremony of Becoming a Disciple
Sunlight slanted through the bamboo window, casting a warm golden glow onto the bluestone floor.
A crisp voice suddenly sounded at his ear, pulling Chen Chang'an back to reality. He saw his daughter, Chen Xingcai, standing beside him without him noticing, tilting her head as she looked at him.
"Father, are you daydreaming?" Chen Xingcai waved her hand in front of his eyes.
Only then did Chen Chang'an notice the faint burnt smell from the pot. With a thought, the egg mixture inside flipped over on its own. He smiled calmly. "It's nothing, just… thinking about something."
When breakfast was served, Chen Xingcai climbed onto the stool and skillfully picked up her chopsticks. But before taking any food, she paused. Staring at her father's face for a long moment, she suddenly said, "Father, you forgot to put salt in today's dishes."
"Huh?" Chen Chang'an froze, quickly taking a bite. Sure enough, it was bland. He patted his forehead in regret. "Sorry, Father will go cook another plate."
Just as he was about to stand, a small hand tugged at his sleeve. At some point, Chen Xingcai had circled to his side, tilting her little face up at him. "No need, it still tastes good like this. But Father, what are you thinking about? You've been distracted since you started cooking."
Seeing the concern in his daughter's eyes, Chen Chang'an's heart warmed. He crouched down to meet her gaze. "Xingcai, let me ask you something… That Xiaohei master you mentioned, does she have anything she likes?"
Chen Xingcai's eyes widened instantly, her small mouth parting slightly—clearly not expecting her father to ask this. Her fingers twisted together unconsciously. "Father… so you were thinking about… Xiaohei master?"
"That's right," Chen Chang'an said softly, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "She's your teacher after all, and also our neighbor… As your parent, I should pay her a proper visit."
Chen Xingcai lowered her head, her voice barely louder than a mosquito's hum. "Tch… I thought Father had finally figured it out…"
"Hm? Figured what out?" Chen Chang'an frowned slightly.
Only then did Chen Xingcai remember that her father was also a cultivator no weaker than her master. She hurried to cover it up. "Oh, I mean Xiaohei master is amazing! The sword techniques you taught me—she can explain their key points in just a few words!"
Chen Chang'an didn't think much of her odd mix of nervousness and excitement. He cupped her small face. "Father isn't blaming you. It's just…" He paused. "In the cultivation world, becoming a disciple is a big deal. I'm thinking about what kind of gift would be appropriate for the ceremony."
"A ceremony gift?" Chen Xingcai lifted her head, her eyes lighting up again.
"Mhm." Chen Chang'an nodded, pulling her back to the table. "Since you've already become her disciple, we should prepare a proper gift—that's the custom."
Chen Xingcai bit her chopsticks in thought. "But Xiaohei master doesn't seem to lack anything."
"That's why we have to think." Chen Chang'an placed some food in her bowl. Even without salt, the two ate with relish. "She's taught you for so long, we should show our thanks."
…
After teaching his daughter as usual during the day, Chen Chang'an waited until she fell asleep before going alone to the riverside.
Night had fallen. Moonlight spilled across the river's surface, breaking into countless silver fragments. He found a flat stone to sit on, gazing at the flowing water in a daze.
In the cultivation world, the gift for becoming a disciple was no small matter. Though Chen Chang'an had never left the valley, he imagined it was not much different from what he had read in old novels. The gift was not only a sign of respect for the master, but could also influence the disciple's future path in cultivation.
"What should I give…" Chen Chang'an murmured.
Aside from her striking beauty that even he found breathtaking, he knew nothing about this "Xiaohei master." Still, if she could teach his daughter cultivation, she must at least be a reclusive expert. Or perhaps she was merely passing through and staying here temporarily?
If it was the former, an ordinary gift would not be worthy; if the latter, what could he give that was proper but not excessive?
"How about… a sword?" Chen Chang'an pondered. Over the years, the system occasionally rewarded him with strange treasures or rare materials, so he had no shortage of resources.
But in the next moment, he shook his head. "No, sword cultivators are particular about their swords. Giving one without knowing her preference might be disrespectful."
Under the moonlight, the river flowed gently, making a pleasant sound. Chen Chang'an stared at the water, his thoughts drifting far. He recalled the scene when he first found Xingcai—such a tiny infant, carried here by the stream. He could have ignored her and continued his secluded life, but in that moment, he had inexplicably reached out his hand…
"Father!"
The familiar voice cut through his memories. Chen Chang'an turned to see Chen Xingcai carrying a small lantern, making her way unevenly along the riverbank.
"It's so late—why have you come here?" Chen Chang'an quickly rose to meet her.
Panting lightly, Chen Xingcai ran up to him, her little face flushed red in the lantern's glow. "I wanted to come and help Father think! About the ceremony gift."
Warmth rose in Chen Chang'an's heart as he took the lantern from her hand. "It's chilly out here—why didn't you wear an extra layer?"
"Not cold!" Chen Xingcai shook her head and pulled her father back down to sit on the stone. "Father, I think you're being too serious. Xiaohei master doesn't care about some expensive ceremony gift."
"Oh?" Chen Chang'an raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me—what does Xiaohei master care about?"
Swinging her small legs, Chen Xingcai's eyes sparkled. "Xiaohei master likes interesting things the most! Last time I showed him a grasshopper I wove, he was so happy and even taught me a new footwork technique!"
Chen Chang'an mused, "Interesting… things?"
"That's right!" Chen Xingcai nodded hard. "Father, do you remember my birthday the year before last, when you gave me that stone that changes color? Xiaohei master saw it and said it was a 'Seven-Colored Glazed Stone'—he thought it was so rare!"
A sudden light flashed in Chen Chang'an's eyes. He remembered—once, when signing in with the system, he had obtained a chessboard said to have been used by ancient immortals in their games. It looked plain, but when pieces were placed upon it, they produced a pleasant melody. Finding it useless at the time, he had stored it away in a corner of his storage ring.
"Xingcai!" Chen Chang'an, excited, picked up his daughter and spun her around. "Father knows what to give!"
Giggling, Chen Xingcai asked, "What is it?"
"Secret for now." Chen Chang'an blinked mysteriously and set her down, then began searching along the riverside.
Under the moonlight, the pebbles on the riverbank glowed with a gentle luster. Chen Chang'an crouched and carefully selected stones. He needed more than three hundred of similar size and shape—half of the darker ones to be burned with true fire into "black pieces," and the lighter ones to be exposed to moonlight as "white pieces."
"Father, what are you doing?" Chen Xingcai asked curiously, peering over.
"Making chess pieces." Chen Chang'an picked up a flat, black stone and brushed his fingers over its surface, its edges instantly turning smooth and rounded. "Father has a very special chessboard. With these natural stones as pieces, it should be quite fun."
Chen Xingcai's eyes widened as she watched the stone in his hand gradually become a perfect sphere. "Father, you're amazing! I want to help too!"
Thus, the two busied themselves under the moonlight. Chen Chang'an shaped the stones while Chen Xingcai carefully sorted them—black to the left, white to the right. Occasionally, she found a particularly round or beautifully patterned one and would excitedly hold it up for her father to see.
"Father, how about this one? Doesn't the pattern look like a butterfly?"
"Mm, very pretty."
Chen Chang'an smiled without stopping his work. "Once they're done, Father will teach you how to play."
As night deepened, the moonlight on the river grew brighter. Chen Chang'an looked at the neatly arranged three hundred stones before him and nodded in satisfaction. Though they could not compare to true treasures, after his simple refining they felt smooth and warm to the touch, and when placed on the chessboard they would make a crisp sound—likely something the unseen Xiaohei master would enjoy.
"All right, it's done!" Chen Chang'an clapped the stone dust from his hands and stood.
By now, Chen Xingcai was swaying with sleepiness, her head drooping, yet she still asked stubbornly, "Father… is the gift… ready?"
Feeling a pang of affection, Chen Chang'an scooped her into his arms. "All ready. Tomorrow you'll take Father to meet your Xiaohei master, and we'll give it to him. Now it's time to go back and sleep."
On the way home, Chen Xingcai lay on her father's shoulder, murmuring drowsily, "Father… Xiaohei master will definitely like it… because… Father prepared it with care…"
Chen Chang'an softly hummed in reply, his heart warm. Looking up at the star-filled sky, he suddenly felt that in all his years of seclusion, finding this daughter was his greatest fortune.
Under the moonlight, their figures grew smaller and smaller, merging into the night.
The river continued to flow gently, as if quietly bearing witness to it all.
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