A cultivator’s spiritual sense is a faculty distinct from the five physical senses. Its most common uses are exploring the Qingming and scanning one’s surroundings, but its more profound purpose is to commune with heaven and earth and comprehend the wonders of the Great Dao.

Thus, cultivators with powerful spiritual sense often experience moments of sudden inspiration, premonition, or intuitive insight, lending them an air of profound mystery.

Xuzhuang suddenly felt something, which puzzled him. ’The sea is so vast. I’ve been traveling day and night for three days without incident, so why am I sensing so many "fateful encounters" today?’ After a moment of contemplation, he decided not to leave.

A short while later, the sound of churning waves suddenly intensified. A massive, five-story sea vessel, some two hundred zhang in length, came parting the waves. A large character for "He" was written on its sail.

As the vessel drew near, the upper half of a figure appeared on deck and shouted, "Hey! You there, Daoist! How’d you end up stranded out here at sea? My master invites you aboard to rest."

Xuzhuang raised an eyebrow. With a single leap, he soared dozens of zhang into the air before drifting gently down onto the deck.

Although it was late at night, the deck was far from deserted. Many passengers were still about, chatting with friends, fishing, admiring the moon, or drinking and making merry.

The bow of the ship, however, was quiet. Only four people were there.

Two of them were clearly attendants. Another was a middle-aged man, expensively dressed and draped in a white Crane Robe. He had a portly figure and a smile on his face, though it couldn’t quite hide a look of worry.

The fourth person was a stark contrast: an old beggar in tattered clothes, his chest bared and his toes poking out of his worn cloth shoes. He had graying hair and a weathered face, and when he grinned, he revealed a set of yellow teeth with two or three missing. A hand-rolled paper filled with what looked like dried tobacco leaves dangled from a gap in his teeth. Only his eyes were exceptionally bright.

The man’s appearance was strange enough, but the way he smoked stirred a flicker of memory in Xuzhuang, and he couldn’t help but stare. The old man, however, didn’t spare him a glance. Keeping his head lowered, he twisted the end of his hand-rolled smoke, lit it, and began puffing away.

’This...’ Xuzhuang knew tobacco existed in this world, but this was the first time in this life he had seen anyone smoke it in such a manner. Suppressing his unease, Xuzhuang landed before the four of them and cupped his hands. "Greetings. Might I ask who is in charge here?"

As Xuzhuang had expected, the portly middle-aged man replied, "Greetings, Daoist. I am He Shanhai, the Chief Steward of this vessel. The sea may look calm, but it is fraught with hidden dangers. I saw you were drifting alone out here, so I invited you aboard to rest."

"Then I must thank you for your kindness, Chief Steward." Xuzhuang considered for a moment. He had been planning to rest and regulate his breathing anyway, and doing so on a ship was perfectly acceptable. He smiled and cupped his hands again. "May I ask the price of passage? I insist on paying the standard fare. I would feel I was imposing otherwise."

"Nonsense, Daoist! You jest." He Shanhai chuckled. "I do own passenger ships, but this voyage is for business. Aside from my associates and crew, everyone aboard is a friend or a personal guest. How could I possibly charge you a fare? The sea is vast, and such meetings are rare. Please, just consider it a matter of fate."

"Hm?" As He Shanhai finished speaking, the old beggar suddenly looked up at him in surprise, then shifted his gaze to Xuzhuang, sizing him up and down. ’I divined that this He fellow was in for some terrible misfortune on this trip,’ he muttered to himself, ’but there was a slim chance he’d meet someone fated to avert the disaster. Could it be this kid? A young brat like him has that kind of power?’

But the more he looked, the more astonished he became, and he couldn’t help but cry out, "How is that possible?"

Xuzhuang had been wary of the strange old man from the start, keeping one eye on him even while speaking with He Shanhai. When he noticed the man staring at him intently, he began to frown in discomfort just as the old man cried out, "How is that possible?"

Xuzhuang glanced at the old beggar. He Shanhai asked, "What’s impossible?"

The cigarette dangling from the old beggar’s lips bobbed. He addressed Xuzhuang directly. "When did a character like you pop up in this world? How could I possibly not know about it?"

Xuzhuang found this odd. "Putting aside whether or not I count as a ’character,’ how many ’characters’ are there in this world? It’s hardly reasonable to expect you to know every single one."

The old beggar plucked the cigarette from his lips and exhaled a long stream of smoke through his nose. "You don’t know shit," he said irritably. "There’s nothing in this world this old master doesn’t know."

Xuzhuang wasn’t offended. In fact, he found it rather amusing. "If that’s the case, then how is it you didn’t know about me?"

The old beggar boasted, "I didn’t know before, but now that I’ve seen you, of course I know."

Xuzhuang said, "Oh? Then why don’t you tell me what my origins are."

"Hmph. Trying to test me, are you, kid?" The old beggar pondered for a moment, then said suddenly, "So you’re a True Disciple of the Tai Su Sect! Tsk, tsk. Your Tai Su Sect hasn’t produced anyone decent in a long time. No wonder I didn’t recognize you at first."

A Tai Su True Disciple! He Shanhai was shocked. Though a native of the East Sea, he often sailed near the Dongsheng Coast and had heard of the illustrious Tai Su Sect. Rumor had it that the Taoist Sect was in no way inferior to the Three Mountains Immortal Sect. ’Could it be... is the Daoist before me actually a Top-Grade Golden Core Cultivator?’

Xuzhuang was also surprised. While his mastery of the Tai Su Taoist Technique was apparent, his cultivation was high enough that not just anyone could see through him at a glance. He regarded the old beggar in a new light. After hearing him out, he couldn’t help but ask, "Why would you say that? The six contemporary True Disciples of the Tai Su Sect all formed their Golden Cores long before I did. How can you say there are no ’decent figures’ among them?"