This question came abruptly, yet it was perfectly reasonable.

If he answered “to serve the sect loyally” or “to pursue the Great Dao,” it would be too vague and hypocritical; if he answered “to earn money,” it would seem worldly and vulgar.

The fingers Su Ming held the teacup with tightened slightly.

Within his Consciousness Sea, Lin Yu, for once, did not crack jokes and remained silent.

This was Su Ming’s own path; he had to answer it himself.

Su Ming raised his head, meeting Elder Qingquan’s gaze with clear and frank eyes.

“Reporting to Elder, this disciple cultivates formations, initially for just two words—to live.”

Luo Feng’s eyelid twitched slightly beside him.

Many scenes flashed before Su Ming’s eyes: the suffocating pressure of Zhao Qianshan’s Foundation Establishment aura on the riverbank, the cold touch of the chains in the Imperial Prison, the scrutinizing gaze he felt walking on thin ice when he first entered the sect.

His voice was calm: “This disciple comes from the mortal world. I have witnessed the oppression of power and experienced life being as cheap as grass. Cultivating formations was the only tangible ‘power’ I could find and grasp at that time. This disciple’s aptitude is mediocre, with no family background to rely on. Cultivating formations is to have a skill to rely on, to be able to control my own destiny in this world of cultivation, and not drift aimlessly like duckweed.”

Elder Qingquan’s face remained expressionless, only his fingers lightly tapping the stone table: “And after that?”

“After that…”

Su Ming glanced at the koi swimming in the pond, his voice softening, “Once this disciple can establish myself and secure a stable life, I wish to use the eye of formations to glimpse the wonders of this world. To see why the wind rises, why the water flows, to see if the principles governing the operation of all things in this world truly have discernible patterns, just like formation lines.”

The courtyard fell into brief silence.

Only the “ding-dong” sound of water pouring from the bamboo tube knocked against their hearts, one drop at a time.

After a long while, the sharpness in Elder Qingquan’s eyes gradually receded, and the corner of his mouth lifted into an extremely faint curve.

“To live, to glimpse principles. That is indeed practical.”

He picked up the cattail leaf fan again, gently fanning himself, “It sounds more pleasing to the ear than those youngsters who constantly spout ‘slaying demons and vanquishing monsters’ or ‘acting on behalf of Heaven.'”

Luo Feng secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

The first hurdle was passed.

Elder Qingquan abruptly changed the subject, pointing at the Repair Hall token at Su Ming’s waist: “That ‘standardization’ system you implemented in the Repair Hall, I have seen it. Dismantling formation lines so that even menial disciples who don’t understand formation principles can repair formation plates like assembling a puzzle.”

“Some say you are destroying the very foundation of the path of formations, stripping formations of their spirit and turning them into dead objects. How do you respond to that?”

This was the real topic.

A debate over technical approaches.

Su Ming set down the teacup, his expression turning solemn.

“Elder, this disciple believes the path of formations is like building a tower.”

Su Ming stretched out his hand, gesturing on the stone table, “Those exquisitely ingenious ancient formations, grand formations, are the glazed tiles on the roof, the flying eaves and bracket sets. They require masters to meticulously carve and imbue with spirit.”

“But what constitutes the main body of this tall tower are thousands upon thousands of the most ordinary bricks.”

Su Ming’s voice was steady and forceful, “This disciple’s ‘standardization’ is about firing these bricks. If every single brick had to be shaped by a master’s own hands, then this tower would probably never be built, not even by the year of the monkey.”

“Moreover…”

Su Ming paused, glancing at Luo Feng beside him, “If a genius like Senior Brother Luo were to be trapped all day in the repetitive labor of firing bricks and laying walls, that would be a waste of talent. Entrusting the foundation to ‘standards’ and leaving the spirit to ‘geniuses’—that is the way for the path of formations to flourish.”

“That is also the distinction you once taught Senior Brother Luo, the difference between ‘laying the foundation’ and ‘capping the roof.'”

Upon hearing this, a thoughtful light flashed in Luo Feng’s eyes.

The cattail leaf fan in Elder Qingquan’s hand stopped.

He stared at Su Ming for a long time, the gaze containing less scrutiny and a bit more appreciation.

“What a fine analogy of firing bricks and capping the roof.”

Elder Qingquan nodded slightly, sighing, “How many old-timers within the sect, cultivating for a lifetime, have a vision less clear than a little Qi Refining youngster like you. They only stare at those few glazed tiles, forgetting that if the foundation beneath their feet collapses, even the finest tiles will be nothing but shattered debris on the ground.”

At this point, Elder Qingquan took out a jade slip from his sleeve and gently placed it on the stone table.

The jade slip was entirely bluish-gray, its surface covered with the mottled marks of time, looking rather unremarkable.

But the moment Su Ming’s divine sense touched it, he felt an extremely obscure, complex fluctuation of logic, as if a labyrinth was locked inside.

“Since your reasoning is sound, then let this old man see your craftsmanship.”

Elder Qingquan pointed at the jade slip, “This is the formation diagram for the ‘Eight Gates Lost Trace Incomplete Formation.’ This formation was obtained by this old man from an ancient cultivator’s cave dwelling in my early years. Although it’s only a fragment, it contains one logical deadlock.”

“It’s not about the formation’s power being immense, but its operational logic is like a tangled mess, head connected to tail, impossible to untie, impossible to sort out.”

Elder Qingquan looked at Su Ming, a hint of examination in his eyes, “I don’t require you to repair it, and there is no time limit. If you can untie this deadlock and sort out a feasible approach for guiding spiritual energy, even if only in theory…”

He paused, his tone serious: “This old man will accept you as a nominal disciple, permit you to come to this Listening to Waves Pavilion at any time to consult my personal notes, and provide you with targeted guidance in your cultivation of the path of formations.”

Nominal disciple!

The weight of these four words was as heavy as a thousand jun.

Although not a direct disciple, to be able to receive guidance at any time from a Golden Core late-stage Grandmaster of Formations, and to have his private notes opened to him—for Su Ming, who had no master-disciple background, this was akin to ascending to heaven in a single step.

This was a true “powerful backer.”

“Master Lin, this task…” Su Ming asked in his mind.

“Take it!” Lin Yu’s voice was resolute, “Logical deadlock? That’s exactly what we’re best at finding. Moreover, this old man’s study must have plenty of good stuff. We must get this access pass.”

Su Ming took a deep breath, stood up, and solemnly cupped the jade slip with both hands.

The jade slip was slightly cool, yet it made his palms feel warm.

“This disciple is willing to give it a try.”

Elder Qingquan nodded with satisfaction and waved his hand: “Go on. This matter is not urgent. The wonder of the path of formations lies in principle, not power; in comprehension, not memorization. Go back and ponder it slowly. Come back when you have figured it out.”

“Yes.”

Su Ming stored the jade slip in his storage pouch, bowed once more, then withdrew from the Listening to Waves Pavilion together with Luo Feng.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep