The Advancement of "Immortal Craft" and the Arrival of Bad News

The wood Li Che used was scrap material he had brought back from the woodcarving shop—a small, unremarkable piece no one noticed when he tucked it away.

The carving knife he wielded was not ordinary. It was part of a custom-made set he had commissioned years ago from a blacksmith in the city's western district. Back then, he had been full of determination to teach himself woodcarving, convinced it was his calling. The set had cost a fortune, a heavy burden for his meager earnings, but now, at last, it was being put to proper use.

The pulsating rhythm of the Immortal Craft Dao Fruit surged through him, a sensation like divine guidance flooding his mind and steadying his hand.

Since this was merely an attempt, Li Che didn't bother sketching the shape with ink lines. With the Dao Fruit guiding him, every detail of the Six-Eyed Bodhisattva statue was etched into his mind. It was as if he had already carved it countless times, each cut as familiar as if it were muscle memory honed over decades.

He instinctively knew where to begin, how deeply to chisel, and how much force to apply to each stroke. At first, his hands trembled slightly, the connection between the blade, the wood, and his intent not yet fluid. But soon, as he found his rhythm, his strokes became more assured, flowing with a natural grace.

The blade danced over the wood, each motion carrying a distinct rhythm. In a master craftsman, such precision would be the result of years of diligent practice. For Li Che, it came as a gift from the Dao Fruit, allowing him to absorb the essence of techniques it had imprinted within him—skills honed by masters like Chen over decades, now flowing effortlessly into his grasp.

The soft scrape of the blade against wood echoed in the quiet room. Beneath the flickering light of the oil lamp, the shavings fell like snowflakes, a testament to the knife's efficiency in Li Che's steady hands. Before long, a rough form began to emerge—a palm-sized representation of the Six-Eyed Bodhisattva.

Though unpolished and with edges still coarse, the statue exuded an otherworldly beauty. It was a form that carried a hint of transcendent craftsmanship, the kind of artistry that hinted at something far beyond mere human skill.

Zhang Ya, who had just lulled Xi Xi to sleep, turned to see her husband. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she took in the rough statue that had taken shape in such a short time. She had expected little more than random cuts and a messy block of wood. What she saw instead was something extraordinary.

Watching Li Che, fully immersed in his work, Zhang Ya dared not interrupt. Suppressing her curiosity, she sat silently by the bedside, her gaze fixed on him.

Under the warm glow of the oil lamp, her expression softened. A smile, both gentle and proud, curved her lips.

All this time, she had believed Li Che had given up on woodcarving. Little did she know that his determination had never wavered. Even while laboring day after day, he had quietly nurtured this dream. Now, it seemed, his efforts were beginning to bear fruit.

"I just hope…" Zhang Ya thought, her heart aching slightly, "that he might one day be accepted as an apprentice. At least then, he wouldn't have to carry heavy loads all day, exhausting himself just to bring home a few copper coins."

As Li Che made his final cut, he stepped back to inspect his work. The Six-Eyed Bodhisattva was complete—rough but full of promise. His heart surged with joy at his accomplishment, but just as he was basking in the moment, he felt something unusual.

[Dao Fruit: Immortal Craft (Lv1, 10%)]

His eyes widened as he noticed the change. The percentage had increased slightly.

"Does this mean carving statues increases my proficiency? Or is it because I successfully mastered the Six-Eyed Bodhisattva's techniques that the Dao Fruit responded?"

Excitement bubbled within him, but he forced himself to calm down. He glanced around his humble home, only to realize he had no more wood to test his theory. Suppressing his eagerness, he stretched his tired limbs and noticed Zhang Ya dozing off by the bedside, her head resting against the wall.

Guilt pricked at his heart. Knowing she had stayed up waiting for him, he quickly blew out the oil lamp and gently woke her. Together, they settled into the warmth of their modest bed.

Outside, snow continued to fall, blanketing the roof with thick layers and muffling the sounds of the bustling city. It was a rare, tranquil night—perfect for rest.

The next morning, as the city stirred under a veil of frost, Li Che made his way to Xu's Woodcarving Shop. The familiar sounds of chisels and saws greeted him as he entered the workshop.

During a short break, Li Che approached Master Chen, his gaze lingering on a pile of scrap Fraxinus wood near the corner.

"Master Chen, may I take some of this scrap wood home to practice with?" he asked hesitantly, trying to keep his tone casual.

Master Chen, covered in sawdust with a streak of wood shavings in his beard, turned to regard him. A faint smile played on the master's lips. "So, you're thinking of learning woodcarving, eh?"

Chen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You've got a sharp eye, and you're not bad at spotting good wood—shame you started late. Still, it's never wrong to show determination."

He waved a hand dismissively toward the pile. "Take whatever scraps you like. They're just offcuts from today's work."

Li Che's heart swelled with gratitude. Over the years, he had earned a small measure of goodwill from Master Chen, a reward for his diligent assistance. He quickly gathered a few choice pieces, already planning how he would use them once he got home.

His mind raced with ideas as he returned to work, the possibilities of his newfound ability igniting a fire in his heart.

Li Che's face lit up with joy as he expressed his thanks to Master Chen. He carefully selected scrap pieces of wood, focusing on ones suitable for practice. The scraps, though small, brimmed with potential under his eager hands.

Master Chen glanced at him briefly, a knowing smile crossing his weathered face. With a faint chuckle, he shook his head and returned to his intricate carving of the Nine Sons Embracing the Lotus sculpture.

Li Che wrapped the scraps in a cloth with care, tucking them securely at his workstation. A few moments later, under the guise of rearranging carved pieces in the courtyard, he approached a renowned sculpture: Spring Fills Heaven and Earth.

The masterpiece was a marvel of patience and precision. It captured the vitality of spring, the intricate veins of leaves, and the rebirth of the world with breathtaking detail. Each chisel mark seemed to breathe life into the wood.

Tentatively, Li Che placed his hand on the sculpture.

A familiar rush coursed through him.

In an instant, a vivid vision unfolded in his mind. He saw a female woodcarver wielding her tools with divine mastery. Her chisel moved as though guided by the heavens, breathing vitality into the sculpture with each stroke. The scene was suffused with the essence of spring—vibrant, blossoming, eternal.

A torrent of knowledge poured into Li Che's mind. Every technique, every secret of the Spring Fills Heaven and Earth sculpture became his.

Li Che suppressed a laugh of elation. Just as with the Six-Eyed Bodhisattva, he had absorbed another intricate carving technique. However, when he touched other sculptures afterward, the Dao Fruit remained silent. It seemed there was a limit to how much he could absorb each day.

The next few days were devoted to studying the [Immortal Craft] Dao Fruit.

Immortal Craftsmanship. Divine Hands. Unparalleled Skill !

Li Che learned that by touching a sculpture, he could unlock its secrets and replicate its techniques. Each successful carving increased his Dao Fruit's progress by 10%, but each sculpture could only be learned from once. To advance the Dao Fruit to level 2, Li Che would need to carve ten unique sculptures.

The realization filled him with hope. For the first time, his future seemed brighter.

The Turning of Seasons

A month passed like a fleeting shadow.

Xi Xi had grown noticeably. At just one month old, her bright, curious eyes now followed movements with fascination. She giggled often, her chubby hands waving excitedly from her swaddle.

Li Che sat by the stove, holding a rattle he had carved himself. He teased Xi Xi gently, delighting in her laughter. Her dimples, identical to her mother's, deepened as her giggles filled the small home with joy.

Nearby, Zhang Ya mended an old jacket with precise stitches. Her hands were worn, but her movements were steady and practiced. Watching her husband play with their daughter, her gaze softened with contentment.

"Husband," Zhang Ya began, her voice tinged with curiosity, "how's it going with your request to become a woodcarver at the shop?"

Over the past month, Li Che's skills had blossomed. Every evening, he would immerse himself in carving, his hands guided by the Dao Fruit. Zhang Ya had witnessed the transformation firsthand, marveling at the finesse in his work.

To her, Li Che's craftsmanship had already surpassed that of many apprentices at Xu's Woodcarving Shop. In her eyes, he was on par with the most skilled carvers there.

Li Che, distracted momentarily by Xi Xi's attempt to grab the rattle, smiled. "The third shopkeeper said I'd have to follow the rules. There's a woodcarving skill assessment for paying students. Only if I pass will I be accepted as a woodcarver."

Zhang Ya nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. "You'll pass for sure!"

Li Che's confidence mirrored hers. His gaze shifted briefly as he checked his progress:

[Dao Fruit: Immortal Craft (Lv2, 8%)]

After a month of relentless practice—learning techniques by day and carving by night—he had advanced the Dao Fruit to level 2.

The upgrade was transformative. Not only had his craftsmanship improved exponentially, but his work now carried profound meaning. Each sculpture radiated an essence, a unique spirit, elevating it beyond mere art.

Furthermore, his dexterity had reached extraordinary levels. His fingers moved with precision and speed, capable of handling intricate tasks that had once seemed impossible.

After a while, Li Che reluctantly set Xi Xi down and donned his coat. The snow had begun to melt, signaling the end of winter, though the chill still clung to the air.

As he prepared to leave for the shop, a familiar figure approached through the narrow alleyway. The man's thick coat was patched, and a pipe jutted from between his lips, puffing faint wisps of smoke. His brows were deeply furrowed, his expression grim.

"Uncle," Li Che greeted politely.

His uncle, a gruff scholar who clung stubbornly to outdated traditions, had not visited since Xi Xi's birth. Displeased by the arrival of a granddaughter instead of a grandson, he had only sent his wife to deliver eggs for Zhang Ya's recovery.

"Che'er, heading to work? Good timing," his uncle muttered, his tone heavier than usual.

Li Che nodded, sensing something was wrong.

After a moment of hesitation, the old scholar took a long puff from his pipe, his voice low and troubled.

"Che'er, have you heard...?"

His pause was deliberate, almost as if he was reluctant to speak.

"The midwife who delivered Xi Xi—Granny Lei... She's... She's killed several babies."

Li Che stiffened.

"They say... all the babies she's delivered..." The old man trailed off, his words hanging ominously in the air.

The morning light dimmed, and a cold wind swept through the alleyway. Li Che clenched his fists, his mind racing as an unshakable unease settled in his heart.