Chapter Forty-Four: The Power of a Father's Love

Suddenly, Lin Tian felt as though he did not truly understand this son of his; it was as if a great secret lay hidden within him. Yet, given the current state of their relationship, Lin Tian could only suppress his doubts, fearing that pressing Lin Xiaobao would create pressure and even the fragile bond they now shared might not survive.

“If you had asked earlier, perhaps I could have approached Old Hua to see if there was a way. But now that inner core has already been designated as the inheritance for the new Pavilion Master two years from now—no one dares set their sights on it anymore!” At this thought, Lin Tian couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

Though he appeared indifferent before Lin Xiaobao, no one knew better than he how severe his injuries truly were. If he could not recover within five years, he would have no choice but to expend his cultivation to prolong his life, until the day when his cultivation was exhausted—and that would be the end of his days.

It was said that reaching the Spiritual Path realm added five hundred years to one’s lifespan, but that referred to natural death. If one fell due to external, uncontrollable factors, death could come at any moment.

“They’re changing Pavilion Masters already?” Lin Xiaobao wondered. Hua Zhengchun was still in his prime; he could easily serve as Pavilion Master for decades, even centuries.

“When Snowstorm Pavilion was first established, in order to reduce internal strife, the founder set a rule: any Pavilion Master may hold their post for at most a hundred years. After a century, a new Pavilion Master is selected, and the peers of the outgoing master cannot participate in the competition. The new Pavilion Master must be chosen from the next generation of disciples,” Lin Tian explained.

Lin Xiaobao considered this and found the rule reasonable—it prevented any single faction from monopolizing power and reduced the likelihood of bloody coups among peers, a regulation beneficial to the sect’s development. “So, what kind of person is qualified to compete for Pavilion Master?”

When he had checked Lin Tian’s pulse earlier, Lin Xiaobao had become aware of his father’s condition. In order to refine the Fiery Sun Pill, he might truly have to risk everything.

For an orphan who had lived through two lives, Lin Tian had gradually entered Lin Xiaobao’s heart, stirring genuine concern for his wellbeing.

“This time, the candidates for Pavilion Master are limited. Aside from a direct descendant of the Hua family, Hua Xiaotian, the Council of Elders has recommended a genius named Ao Wuchen. Of course, if the champion among the personal disciples wishes to compete, they may also participate. But throughout history, not a single champion has ever taken part, as becoming Pavilion Master requires not just effort but also strong backing from the other elders,” Lin Tian shared, looking helpless as he spoke of the inner workings of Snowstorm Pavilion.

The Pavilion had always been led by the Hua family, so Hua Xiaotian’s nomination was only natural. As for Ao Wuchen, the Council’s recommendation, he undoubtedly had powerful forces supporting him as well. Given such circumstances, no champion among the personal disciples would wade into these troubled waters unless they were a fool.

“What are the cultivation levels of those two now?” Just because no one else would attempt it did not mean he would not. Even if obstacles awaited him after taking the post, Lin Xiaobao could always make off with the inner core. The Pavilion Master’s position itself held no allure for him; but for Lin Tian’s sake, that inner core was absolutely necessary.

“I’m already content that you have such ambition,” Lin Tian said, gratified by his son’s persistent questioning. “Five years ago, both of them had already reached the pinnacle of the ninth level of Innate Realm, and were then sent to the Sacred Land to cultivate. No one can say with certainty what realm they’ll reach in two years—perhaps the ninth level of the Spiritual Path, perhaps still at the peak of the Innate Realm, unable to take that critical step forward.”

Since these two could be candidates for Pavilion Master, their talent was extraordinary. Breaking through from Innate Realm to the Spiritual Path was inevitable—the question was only how far they could progress within the Spiritual Path.

After some thought, Lin Xiaobao said, “There are still two years left. I’m willing to give it a try!”

Though he didn’t specify what he meant to try, Lin Tian understood his intention. “Your innate talent may be ordinary, but with the fortuitous encounters you’ve had, your future achievements will certainly surpass mine. If you wish to try, I won’t stop you. Without ambition, how could you pursue cultivation? But you mustn’t be reckless for quick success—if your foundation is unstable, your future cultivation will suffer greatly.”

“Don’t worry, Father. I know how to pace myself,” Lin Xiaobao thought, even if he wanted to use cultivation methods that would harm his health, he doubted either of the two elders would allow it.

“Give me your Snowstorm Token,” Lin Tian said, seeing the determination on Lin Xiaobao’s face. He felt that even if his injury proved fatal, it would be worth it.

Puzzled, Lin Xiaobao handed over his Snowstorm Token, wondering what purpose Lin Tian had in mind.

Lin Tian took out his own token and merged it with Lin Xiaobao’s. “This is all I can do to help you now. If, two years from now, you cannot obtain that inner core, just take me to your mother’s grave. Accompanying her, I think I will pass away with peace of mind…”

When Lin Xiaobao received the token back, he was so stunned he was nearly speechless. “How are there so many contribution points?”

“If there weren’t enough, who would risk their life?” Lin Tian replied lightly, unwilling to let the atmosphere turn somber. “Go and cultivate. You only have two years—make the most of it!”

Holding the Snowstorm Token with fifty thousand extra contribution points, Lin Xiaobao felt a weight settle in his heart. Given Lin Tian’s character, he had no need for contribution points. In other words, Lin Tian’s grave injury this time was all because of him.

Putting away the token in his storage bracelet, Lin Xiaobao wiped the faint dampness from the corner of his eyes and swore silently: Father, just wait. In two years, your son will win that inner core and refine the Fiery Sun Pill for you!

“Elders, today’s holiday is canceled,” Lin Xiaobao announced upon returning to the rear courtyard, unable to shake off the gloom that clung to his spirit.

“I must admit, that foster father of yours truly treats you well,” Old Mo said approvingly. “Are you really planning to compete for that so-called Pavilion Master’s seat in two years?”

“I only want that inner core,” Lin Xiaobao replied firmly. The Pavilion Master’s position meant nothing to him, but the inner core was something he must obtain, and now there was only one path to it.

“Unless something unexpected happens, those two will emerge from that so-called Sacred Land in two years with at least the fourth level of the Spiritual Path,” Old Mo said, sounding troubled. “With our abilities, helping you reach the fourth level of the Spiritual Path in two years isn’t too difficult. But if you want to do it without harming your future cultivation, you’ll have to endure some hardship.”

“I’m not afraid. Reaching the fourth level of the Spiritual Path in two years is my goal,” Lin Xiaobao said, touching the Snowstorm Token again with determination.

“I have no objections. Before you step into the Spiritual Path, you have no need to refine pills anyway. But you’d better ask Old Wu’s opinion,” Old Mo reminded him kindly.

Clearly, if Lin Xiaobao was set on advancing his cultivation quickly, his alchemy and formation studies would have to be set aside for now.