Surviving In My Novel 128 Records of The Disciples 1

I trained day and night to increase my cultivation and martial arts, but I was never able to reach the realm of Core Formation. I was forever stuck in the Foundation Building stage, unable to progress to a true immortal.

I buried myself in cooking for a time, attempting to drive myself away from my failures. However, I still could not get over my inability. I might have been an amazing chef, but I would have still been dead after merely a few centuries. My life meant nothing because I couldn't progress past that lowly realm. I could not shoot bullets through the heavens, and I could not prove my own worth. I was forever a chef.

Then one day, I received news from Great Clone God. He told me that I was to become the disciple of a young and extremely talented Nascent Soul expert. That very day, my eyes were opened to how wide the universe was. On my very first day, I met Brushing Wind God and Domineering Might God, and received an immortal art that changed me from a mere Foundation peasant into a Core Formation Warrior. However, the art did not stop there.

After four more months, I became an Immortal. Along with my three fellow brothers, we stood at the peak of the Myriad Forest. Nevertheless, our master stood beyond the peak. He had already ascended past the mere immortal stage long before we arrived there.

No matter how hard we could have trained, our master still seemed like a deity out of our view. Every meeting gave us enlightenment from his very presence. We could not help but look in awe at our brilliant master. At that time, we were still ants.

When we ascended to Immortal Grandmaster, Master had already reached Immortal Lord. We were again left in awe of our master. The one that had brought us out of our dark days had also brought us so high into the heavens that Immortals seemed common.

None of us ever thought we would ascend past our peers and become gods. None of us ever thought that we would live for eternity.

Long ago, Master was still speaking to us about cultivating and training. I miss that paternal voice. It has been a million years since I last heard his voice. I will wait a million more to hear it again. Cultivating in the void and detaching myself from the others.

I, who is now worshipped by uncountable sums of galaxies, still wishes for more. I wish to be able to worship the one that brought me here. The others still desire this too.

A million years now feels like a century. Still a lifetime for the old me, but a flash in time.

I am Flowing Wok God. 

Beyond the reach of humanity, I drift in space. One day, I will achieve the Eternal Rebirth Stage and be reunited with Master and everyone else who have ascended.

…

I still remember the day when master took us in as disciples. I was merely a cripple with no arms or legs. I had low cultivation and no limbs to practice martial arts with. Every passing day was a nightmare for my training, an extra night for sweat and tears,

Nevertheless, I trained until I could roll around like a ball. When I could do that, I trained my body to become as tough as stone. Suddenly, I became a man who could fight against another man with all limbs.

This did not make me a genius. I was still weaker when compared to everyone else in that small sect.

Brother Flowing Wok would always come by and cook me a hearty dinner when I lost a fight. A true brother that I would never forget in my life.

We and Brother Brushing Wind stayed as cripples for many years. That was until master came and took us away from the likes of mortals.

Suddenly, I became a man with arms and legs again. Neither of them were made from flesh, but were made from godsteel. Master was the one to create them for me. After that, I stood unparalleled in terms of physique. I devoted my very life to honouring master day and night. Every hour would be spent on training so my master could feel proud when he called me his disciple.

Alas, I could not help but disappoint. We could never fight side by side with master, only being a hindrance when master fought the great evils that we encountered. Every single war we fought were against enemies that master could kill with a single strike.

When I used master's immortal art, I could only understand little. Only when I reached the stage of Immortal Kings could I finally have enough wisdom and perception to fully practice the immortal art.

It was like a world had been opened up. The heavens suddenly turned into nothing but earthly desires. When I experienced the full might of master's art, I became worthy of becoming a god. Master had made me into a god with only a single art.

Again a spent day and night worshipping master in training. Every hour would be training and more training. I eventually lost my fat and suddenly I became muscular.

I cried my eyes out for an entire month. I was about to kill myself because of this blunder, remembering that my fat was what fuelled the very principles of the immortal art.

When master found me close to death, he sighed. It seemed like nothing to him. My effort that had all been wasted seemed like nothing in front of him. Instead of punishing me for making such a huge blunder, he gave me a new art.

I trained in the Domineering Might art from then onwards. With every passing day, my muscles became more powerful and flexible. The power hidden in my body was simply terrifying. At first, I thought that I had directly broken through to a stage higher, but it was just my raw physical power. Master had turned me into something greater again.

My lapse in judgement turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

From then onwards, I followed master until he finally ascended past the material plane.

Now, we only hear from master in periodic messages from the plane above. His words of encouragement always feel good, motivating us to stay on the correct path. His tales of a land that had not been inhabited by any sentient creature had pulled us all in.

It was something strange he told us. He seemed happy for once.

…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away. My master taught me the meaning of the broom.

The broom is my heart and soul, my existence. With every winding hour and brush of the ground, I understood it more.

I was merely a janitor of a backwater sect then. Master had not even stepped into the realm of immortals, yet his very existence was more profound than the strongest Immortal Grandmaster.

When he took me in as a disciple, I felt honoured. I would finally have the opportunity to train under a Nascent Soul expert I thought. I was clearly not estimating the profoundness of my master well. The art that he taught me millions of years ago still follows me to this day.

My name is in honour of master. I am a disciple that still remembers my father for life. Even when I am drifting away in this infinite space, I will still cultivate knowing that I will be able to see master once again.

My broom may be the strongest of its kind but master is the most peerless of them all.

As one that values effort over talent, my master instantly found his way into my eternal gratitude. With every passing hour, I became more hard working. All of this to impress my master.

Just like my brothers, we all worked until we could not. Our eternal devotion could not be broken by the chains of fatigue.

I still remember a profound phrase that master once told us.

'Am I tired because of training or Blue?'

At first, we did not know what he meant. However, I spent every waking hour deciphering master's riddle, eventually coming to the conclusion that master's fatigue came from the never ending blue sky that chained us all to this plane. But I went deeper and found much more. Is the sky really blue?

This question gave me fatigue that was so severe that I had to break though to the stage of Immortal Grandmaster to offset it.

At last, I realised what master meant.

His teaching will always be in my heart.

Chapter end