Chapter 124: The accident of destiny
(Arc: The Time-Travel Accident Arc — "A thousand years too early for this nonsense.")
The sect library was quiet.
Too quiet — which, for Li Ming, usually meant trouble.
Bai Guo was asleep on a shelf, feathers puffed up like an abandoned pillow. Lei Shan was curled into a ball of static under the table, his tiny snores occasionally sparking the floor tiles.
Li Ming sat cross-legged amid a pile of ancient scrolls, one eyebrow twitching. "Who writes talisman theory like this? These diagrams look like they were drawn by a drunk crab."
He rubbed his temples, staring at a faded parchment labeled:
’Temporal Sealing: A Beginner’s Catastrophe Avoidance Manual.’
"Beginner’s," he muttered, "and yet the author started with ’never attempt this indoors.’ Too late for that."
The parchment shimmered faintly, runes pulsing like tiny hearts. The energy felt... odd.
Familiar, yet heavy — the sort of thing that whispered ’don’t touch’ in polite, ominous tones.
Naturally, Li Ming touched it.
---
The moment his finger brushed the ink, the world hiccuped.
A surge of Qi exploded outward, folding light itself.
Bai Guo woke up with a shriek. "Descendant, what did you—!"
The air twisted like cloth. Books flew off shelves, talismans burned, and Lei Shan yelped as he got sucked into a vortex of glowing script.
Li Ming’s last coherent thought was: I really need to stop touching glowing things.
Then everything went white.
---
When he opened his eyes, the world was different.
The air smelled cleaner, sharper. The trees were taller. The buildings — gone. Only a vast valley stretched before him, blanketed in mist.
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...This isn’t my library."
Behind him, Bai Guo staggered upright, half-scorched. "We’re not dead?"
Lei Shan sniffed the air, fur bristling. "The Qi density... it’s massive. Master, I think we’ve—"
"Gone back a thousand years," Li Ming finished flatly, pointing to a half-buried stone stele nearby.
Its inscription read:
’Future Site of Azure Sky Sect — Please Don’t Build Temples on My Turnip Field.’
Silence.
Bai Guo squinted. "...Did someone carve a joke into history?"
Li Ming stared at it, face unreadable. "No. I carved that joke into history."
Lei Shan tilted his head. "You... what?"
"I remember this stele," Li Ming said slowly. "I saw it in the sect’s courtyard. We all thought it was a prank by a bored elder."
Bai Guo’s beak fell open. "You’re telling me you were the bored elder?"
Li Ming just sighed. "Apparently, I’ve been irritating myself across time."
---
A rustle echoed behind them.
They turned — to see a group of young cultivators approaching, robes ancient in style, swords gleaming. At their head was a man in his twenties, bright-eyed and serious, holding a jade tablet.
"Who dares trespass on this sacred land?" he demanded. "I am Li Wen, disciple of the Azure Dawn Sect!"
Li Ming froze.
Bai Guo whispered, "He looks... exactly like you."
Li Ming’s lips twitched. "That’s because he is me. Or rather—" he rubbed his temples, "my great-great-great-grand ancestor."
Lei Shan blinked. "So... your forefather."
"Yes."
"Meaning?"
Li Ming stared at the younger man, who was currently glaring at him with righteous confusion.
"Meaning," Li Ming muttered, "if I break his confidence too much, I might erase myself."
Bai Guo whispered, "So, don’t mess this up."
"Correct."
"Which means you’ll absolutely mess this up."
Li Ming exhaled through his nose. "Have faith."
Then, straightening his robe, he stepped forward with the serene dignity of an ancient master — or at least, his best impression of one.
"Young man," he said gravely, "you stand before an ancient wanderer of the Dao. Your sect... does not exist yet."
The ancestor frowned. "Then where do you come from, senior?"
Li Ming paused for dramatic effect.
"...From your future mistakes."
The entire group went silent.
Bai Guo groaned. "Oh no, he’s doing the cryptic thing again."
Li Ming ignored him, lifting his hand as if bestowing wisdom. "Fear not. I am here to... enlighten you."
"Enlighten me... how?" Li Wen asked warily.
Li Ming’s mind blanked.
Then he said the first thing that came to him.
"By teaching you how to properly ... make tea."
Bai Guo’s head hit the ground. "Out of all the possible lies—"
Lei Shan cackled. "Master’s new era of enlightenment begins with beverages."
Li Wen blinked. "So... you’re a tea saint?"
Li Ming nodded with solemn conviction. "Yes. A very powerful one."
---
And thus, history quietly rewrote itself.
A thousand years later, in the Azure Sky Sect library, a small plaque would still read:
’In honor of the Great Tea Sage who founded the first brewing manual of the sect.’
His identity remains unknown. Some say he time-traveled. Others say he was an idiot.
Both were right.
----
The clearing was silent — the kind of silence that only happens when everyone is too stunned to breathe.
Li Ming stood in the center, robes fluttering gently, pretending he wasn’t making this up as he went.
Li Wen, his ancestor, looked absolutely enthralled.
"A Tea Sage...? I’ve read tales of herbal alchemists, but never of one who achieved Dao through tea!"
Li Ming smiled faintly. Good. He bought it.
"Yes. Tea flows like Qi — balance, patience, and clarity. A true cultivator must understand the boiling point of existence."
Bai Guo slapped his face with a wing. "The boiling point of— Descendant, you’re inventing nonsense faster than thunder travels."
Li Ming coughed. "Ahem. The first lesson is simple: prepare the leaves."
Li Wen immediately gestured to his juniors. "Gather herbs! Quickly! Only the finest!"
Within minutes, a group of wide-eyed disciples were scampering through the forest, returning with armfuls of random plants: moss, bark, questionable weeds, and something that looked suspiciously like poison ivy.
Li Ming stared. "...You brought me yard trash."
Li Wen bowed deeply. "These are the freshest spiritual leaves in the area, Senior."
Bai Guo whispered, "So, technically, you are about to make enlightenment tea."
Li Ming sighed. "Fine. Lesson two: boiling."
He flicked his hand, lightning sparking gently across his palm. The air sizzled, forming a hovering sphere of boiling water.
Li Wen gasped. "He commands lightning to heat his brew!"
Li Ming nodded gravely, pretending this was planned. "Naturally. One must strike balance between thunder and aroma."
---
When the first pot was ready, he poured the glowing liquid into small cups. It smelled... terrible.
Bai Guo leaned close. "Descendant, that smells like if regret had a scent."
Li Wen, however, raised his cup reverently. "Senior, may this disciple taste the Dao?"
Li Ming hesitated. "Uh. Sure. Sip slowly."
Li Wen drank.
And instantly froze.
The disciples panicked. "Senior Brother! Are you—"
Then Li Wen’s body glowed faintly — a pulse of Qi rippling through him.
His cultivation surged.
Everyone gasped.
Li Ming blinked. "Wait— it actually worked!?"
Bai Guo choked. "You accidentally brewed a Qi-enhancing tea!?"
Li Wen dropped to his knees. "Master! Please accept me as your disciple!"
Li Ming’s brain blanked.
"...Master?"
The entire group fell to their knees, bowing as one. "Greetings, Master Tea Sage!"
Li Ming looked around helplessly. "I— uh— it was just boiling water—"
Lei Shan’s fur sparked mischievously. "Father, they’re worshipping you."
Bai Guo smirked. "Congratulations, descendant. You’ve founded the Dao of Tea."
Li Ming muttered under his breath, "A thousand years early and I’ve already created a cult."
---
Hours later, Li Ming sat on a rock, head in his hands, as Li Wen’s disciples chanted softly nearby.
"Steam rises, Dao flows."
"Bubbles form, wisdom grows."
"Steep in patience, transcend the mortal brew."
Bai Guo watched, wheezing in laughter. "They’ve memorized your nonsense!"
"I was improvising!" Li Ming groaned. "This was supposed to be reconnaissance, not religion!"
Lei Shan rolled onto his back, tail flicking. "Master, you can’t undo it now. Look — they’re building a shrine around the teapot."
Li Ming looked up. Sure enough, they were. A literal shrine. Around the pot.
He stood, defeated. "Fine. If I’m stuck here, I’ll make the best of it."
He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and declared:
"Lesson three — stir counterclockwise. For that is the way of thunder’s flow."
The disciples echoed in awe, "Counterclockwise... the way of thunder!"
Bai Guo fell over laughing. "You’re rewriting physics."
Li Ming shot him a glare. "And you’re next if you don’t shut up."
---
That night, as stars shimmered over the pre-sect valley, Li Ming sat beside the half-built shrine, sipping what might’ve been actual tea this time.
He looked up at the glowing moon and muttered, "If future me ever finds this... don’t laugh."
Bai Guo leaned over. "You know you’re going to laugh."
Li Ming groaned. "Yeah, probably."
Somewhere far, far in the future, the older version of him would laugh — in the sect library, reading about the legendary Tea Sage who "achieved enlightenment through hydration."
To be continued...