Aotian and Rihai kept walking and weren’t far from the Beast Pavilion.

Of course, earlier they had paid cranes to carry them to the aviary closest to the pavilion. Otherwise, with the vast expanse of the Bamboo Sword Sect’s mountain, they wouldn’t even know what day they’d arrive if they just strolled along like this.

But as they walked, Aotian couldn’t stop thinking about the saying Rihai had shared.

‘… A mortal can live in a single breath what a cultivator fails to grasp in a thousand lifetimes — for living is not merely enduring… Even if this truth isn’t new to me, and I’ve already understood it before, it’s still something I need to cling to, something I must not forget.’

‘As time goes by, it’s easy to leave behind the little things — those that quietly carry the true meaning of life. A simple moment next to someone you love can be more valuable than lonely millennia conquered in the name of power. And then, looking back, in the face of an eternity bought at the cost of those moments, all you want is to trade it… for that one instant you let slip.’

Aotian thought with a heavy heart, looking at the beautiful Rihai beside him. She blinked her blue eyes at him and tilted her head, confused as to why he was staring at her like that.

Then, he thought of his family, the ones he had left behind on Earth. He thought of the moments he missed — memories that now felt so distant.

Raising his head and looking up at the blue sky — which wasn’t so different from the one he used to see on Earth — he recalled those warm and happy moments with his family: the inside jokes, the games, the times of dependence and vulnerability, and also of strength and joy.

Rihai, seeing him stop, looked at him and noticed his eyes fixed on the sky.

In that gaze, she recognized something familiar. Longing. Longing for home and for things lost. Eyes just like hers when she remembered her father.

Aotian closed his eyes and slowly felt the wind on his face.

A sting rose in his nose as he faced the truth he had long tried to avoid.

‘It’s only been seven months since I last saw my family. But the thought that I won’t see them for millennia, or maybe millions of years… if I ever do… is bitter.’

‘Will I still be myself after all that time? Will I still have love for them?’

The questions kept coming, but as he stood there with his eyes closed, heart heavy, he suddenly felt a warm embrace.

Opening his eyes and looking down, he saw a head full of golden hair pressed against his chest.

A softness welled up in his cloudy heart. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her lovingly, and kissed the top of her head.

Feeling that warm embrace made Aotian’s foggy gaze sharpen and grow determined.

‘I may change, but what I feel — I won’t let it change. I’ll never give up on searching for them and finding them. But I can’t be blind, only chasing the future. I have Rihai here too, and I won’t leave her helpless or disappointed while I focus on other things. I want it all.’ he thought, resolute.

He had avatars, and his name was Long Aotian. He could and would be arrogant enough to try to reach everything he wanted all at once.

With that decision made, he returned to focusing on the warmth of that embrace.

Even so, the pain of not knowing when he’d see the people he loved again still lingered in his chest, and he needed Rihai in that moment, to soothe his heart.

They remained like that for a while, until Rihai lifted her head from his chest.

“Feeling better?” she asked, looking at him with concern.

“Better.” He smiled and nodded. Then he leaned down and softly kissed her lips.

“Even better now?” Rihai teased, opening her eyes after the kiss.

“Much better.” Aotian nodded quickly, making her laugh.

Aotian had felt homesick before, and so had Rihai. So it wasn’t the first time they consoled each other.

But this time, Aotian’s emotions were stirred more than usual, due to the saying Rihai had shared, which had resonated with his memories and exposed a truth he tried not to think about in daily life.

They hugged a bit longer before letting go and continued walking toward the Beast Pavilion, chatting softly with one another.

As they walked, they spotted a massive cavern in the mountain — the current headquarters of the Beast Pavilion.

And gradually, a strange sound began to reach their ears, growing louder the closer they got.

“Are those… roars?” Rihai asked, confused, glancing at Aotian as she recognized the sound.

Aotian scratched his head, giving her a strange smile, and they picked up the pace.

Reaching the entrance of the cave, they saw an unusual scene.

A massive Red Tiger was fighting against a cultivator in red robes — a bearded man with a muscular build… or rather, to be precise, getting beaten up by him.

“ROARRR!!” the tiger roared fiercely and charged again, but the cultivator stomped the ground, creating a pillar of earth that shot up violently, striking the tiger’s face and tossing it to the side.

Without wasting time, he dashed toward the tiger, which rolled and tried to get up. But before it could, the cultivator reached it and struck its snout directly with a fist wrapped in a thick layer of earth, smashing its face into the ground.

“Bear, Tiger, enough! We have visitors.” Coyote, who had been sitting nearby watching the fight, called out to the cultivator and the beast, rising to his feet.

His call caught the attention of both and interrupted the battle.

Rihai and Aotian approached as the tiger got up from the ground, shaking its head, trying to recover from the last blow.

Aotian waved to them and turned to Rihai.

“Hai’er, these are Coyote and Bear — inner elder and outer elder of the Beast Pavilion, respectively.” Aotian introduced them, smiling.

“Liu Rihai greets the elders.” She cupped her fists and bowed politely, not acting as familiarly as Aotian did.

Coyote scratched his head, smiling at them.

“Hello to both of you too. I heard you want to be treated like regular disciples, right? So… hello, disciples? Err… I’m Coyote?” he said, a bit flustered, seeming unaccustomed to acting, and ended up introducing himself completely confused.

That was the personality Aotian had given Coyote: simple-minded, straightforward, confident, and playful.

Rihai found it amusing but kept a serious face, not wanting to disrespect him. And once again, the idea that the elders of the Infinite Dao Sect were strange popped into her mind.

“Just act like you normally do with other disciples.” Aotian smiled at him, shaking his head, then turned to the tiger, who had been listening to the conversation. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” the tiger replied calmly.

“That’s good. What were you doing?” Aotian nodded and asked with a curious tone, though he already knew.

“We’re training the big guy’s combat skills and trying to trigger his bloodline through battle,” Coyote explained, and Bear, an elder with a silent personality, nodded beside him.

The tiger simply watched without much reaction.

Aotian didn’t have manuals for beast training, so for now, he could only work based on intuition and the high talent of the Beast Pavilion’s elders.

At the very least, through them, he managed to get a clearer understanding of how beasts cultivated and what could help make the process easier.

Without synthesized techniques, the results wouldn’t be great, but still better than nothing.

One of the things he discovered was that a beast doesn’t have a dantian, but rather a beast core, usually located on its forehead. These cores form from the flow and fusion of spiritual energy into the blood running through the beast’s veins—or, more precisely, in the beast’s bloodline.

Through this process, the bloodline undergoes a metamorphosis and generates a special energy that travels to the head, where it gathers and forms the beast core, equivalent to the human dantian.

It was through this discovery that Aotian understood why Rihai had said all beasts could cultivate. Unlike humans, limited by the need for spiritual roots, the blood of beasts was their roots. And that’s also why their realms are limited—because these “roots” have a growth ceiling.

What Aotian was trying to do with the Red Tiger using his avatars was fight it, both to speed up the ignition of the bloodline and hasten its realm advancement, and to improve its combat experience against humans.

The tiger had a lot of experience fighting other beasts, but still needed more training to deal with small, powerful targets like humans. In return, Aotian also gained experience fighting beasts by sparring with it.

But despite battle helping accelerate this bloodline activation process, it didn’t actually help all that much.

Aotian saw the tiger silent and knew what was in its heart.

“It’s not what you imagined, is it?” he asked the tiger, catching it off guard.

“I’m fine,” the tiger replied, not complaining.

“You don’t have to hide it. I said you’d get much stronger by following me, but so far you haven’t been shown even a glimmer of hope—just a few fights that aren’t even that useful, right?” Aotian smiled, unconcerned, revealing the tiger’s thoughts, making it fall silent.

The tiger had promised to follow him if he saved it, so it didn’t complain about not becoming stronger.

But Aotian, after saving it, had given it hope that it could grow stronger — a hope it clung to, especially considering the powerful ancestor at his side. Yet up to now, it hadn’t seen any real sign of strength gain through these little battles, which were the only thing offered so far.

Coyote stepped forward and smiled confidently.

“You don’t have to worry about not becoming stronger. The sect is preparing things for you, even if you don’t know it yet—but it will still take some time. And you also need to earn contributions for the sect to give you those things.” he explained, placing his hands behind his neck, relaxed.

“Exactly. The sect will help you, but not for free. If the sect sees no reason to invest in you, it won’t.” Aotian smiled, also explaining. After all, he didn’t want to raise a lazy tiger.

The tiger couldn’t help but look at them suspiciously, wondering if they were just tricking him into working for free.

But thinking it through, it seemed to make sense. He couldn’t just show up and enjoy everything like the king he once was.

Reflecting on this, a bit of hope sprouted again, and he nodded to them.

“Speaking of which, Tiger, you don’t have a name yet, right? How about we give you one?” Aotian asked, completely changing the subject and catching everyone by surprise.

“Name? Isn’t my name Red Tiger?” the tiger asked, confused, tilting its head.

“No, that’s your bloodline name. A name is a way to distinguish you from others. Imagine if all humans were called ‘human.’ How would we know who’s who?” Aotian smiled, helpless, and explained, making the tiger look at him strangely.

“Well, alright. But my name has to be majestic. I won’t accept a common name.” the tiger finally decided but still warned them with caution in his powerful voice, wary of bad names.

“Okay, I’m great at naming!” Aotian raised his thumb, confident—but a playful glint appeared in his eyes.

“How about Little Red?” he suggested.

The tiger’s eye twitched the moment it heard that.

“I like Red Tiger,” the tiger retorted, firmly.

“Come on, don’t be like that! What about Red Cat?” Aotian tried again, grinning.

“I think just Tiger works.”

“You’re difficult. What about MiaoMiao?”

“How about we fight to the death again? This time, don’t save me!”

“Hey, no need to be rude! Big Red?”

“Stop trying to give me lame names!”

“Lord Meow?”

“That’s it, I’ll name myself. From now on, this king shall be called Hóng Wáng (Red King).”

“Haah… fine, your name from now on is Tiger.”

“I’m going to beat you up one day…”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep