Han Yimu felt a bit touched by the speech, as he'd never heard anything like it before in his life. The others, too, seemed to take a silent note of it for a moment, but it truly was just for a moment--before a flurry of requests exploded. The first one was, surprisingly, Long Tao of all people.
"I need an art that immediately makes me break through into the Demigod Realm--"
"--get lost." Master interrupted unceremoniously.
"I need a powerful attack art, Master!" Dai Xiu said. "Even though I punch a lot, I barely hurt them!"
"I'll see what I can do about that, Xiu'er," Master said with a faint smile.
"I need an internal art," sister Wan Lan said. "Something that I can silently charge up while taking a beating."
"... weird way to phrase it, but alright. Master will look through his coffers."
"It, it may be too much," Rayce said. Hmm? Wasn't he an Shaman? Han Yimu frowned, wondering why a shaman was seeking arts from a cultivator. "But perhaps an art that can automatically inscribe very simple, everyday Words? That way, I can dedicate most of my time to more complex and layered phrases."
... phrases? Han Yimu's frown deepened? He didn't know much about Shamans, but he knew for certain they wrote words and not phrases.
"It truly would be helpful," Master said. "Perhaps there might be one, Master will see."
There... was?
"Master... could, could I have an art that helps me with my weapon?" Xing Feng asked somewhat shyly. "I, I know there's so many stances, but..."
"No, no, you're right. You more than deserve it, Feng'er. I'll be sure to find something fitting you."
No, Han Yimu thought, you cannot simply find an art like that.
"I'd like an art that--"
"--you haven't even fought," Master interrupted the alchemist with a frown on his face. "What are you butting in?"
"Master, I've fought, though?" Long Tao said.
"Why are you still there? Didn't I explicitly tell you to get lost?" the kids laughed as Long Tao rolled his eyes, and Han Yimu found the entire situation more and more confusing.
"Master, I'd like an art that lets me stay underwater for as long as I want!" Light suddenly announced.
"... uh, w-why?" even Master seemed a bit confused.
"Fishes are pretty and I want to be able to swim with them."
"... sure. Master will see about that."
"She didn't fight either," the alchemist protested.
"... really?" Master looked over at him, the look in his eyes quite strange. "Really?"
The alchemist sighed and turned away, seeming to be pouting, which was quite a strange thing to do for a man that was hundreds of years old, at the very least. Just then, too, Master looked over at him as did everyone else, and they kept staring as his blood rushed into his cheeks.
"W-what?" he finally dared ask.
"What do you want, Yimu?" Master asked.
"... h-huh?"
"You've also done really well," he said, smiling gently. "And deserve an award. Look at these gremlins immediately demanding stuff. Be more like them and less like Zhao'er sitting over there waiting his turn."
"That's not fair, Master," Xi Zhao said. "All I want is just for you to be healthy and nothing more."
"... tsk, kiss-ass," Dai Xiu said with a good amount of derision.
"... alright, yeah, definitely don't be like Zhao'er," they laughed, once again, making him feel... odd. Since becoming a martial artist, he was taught that anything but proper behavior in front of a Master was considered disrespect. Though he'd already recognized this little group hardly followed conventions, he had still underestimated them severely.
Rather than a Master and Disciples, more and more they simply just seemed like a... family. A decidedly weird one, for certain, but a family nonetheless.
"So, what would you like?"
"..." he stared back at the Master for a moment, thinking whether to play along. In the end, he truly was lacking in everything since he had to abandon all the previous arts he'd learned. And the one he definitely needed the most... "A movement art," he said. "Any kind would be fine."
"Alright," his Master nodded, smiling. "I'll see what I can do. Anyway, everyone--rest for a bit and see if you can find anything we can sell in this place. Once we've rested for a bit, we'll change our faces--oh, right, Yimu, let me know if you have trouble understanding it. Also, I forgot to give you a sister-art of sorts. Master is truly becoming forgetful in his old age..."
"You're ten times younger than me," the alchemist said.
"And you've forgotten all your manners, so it tracks."
"... haah."
"Anyway," Master tossed him a crude-looking booklet. "If you have gained the initial mastery of the Art of Survival, change your face however you'd like. If not, you can come to me or anyone to help you along."
Han Yimu caught the booklet his Master tossed; as far as the face-changing art went, he did actually reach the initial mastery. Despite the art's complexities, he had been a prodigy, and one thing he didn't lose while losing all his cultivation was his comprehension abilities.
He opened the new art his master gave him and scrolled through the pages somewhat slowly. It was... a strange art, to say the least. It held within some very beginner concepts that even children would intuitively know how to use, but also some profundities that began to unfold Yimu's understanding of the world.
Han Yimu felt his heart stop for a moment--this was terrifying. Ability to change natures of Qi, to adjust them, to mix them... it was almost on the level of face-changing art. No, in some ways it was even more astonishing as it could be the difference of a victory and a loss in combat.
When would it all stop? The constant revelations that had him spinning out. How was it possible that this was just an 'ordinary' group in the Lower Realm? It wasn't. Master was either a being of the Upper Realm who descended, or they were part of some ancient clan that had decided to send out a generation of their kids out to train them.
... but why would Master accept him, then?
"If you think too deeply about it," sister Wan Lan suddenly appeared next to him, speaking with a faint smile. "Your head will start to hurt."
"Ah."
"I've stopped doing it... huh, it's been a couple of years, hasn't it?" she looked at the Master silently for a moment. "You'll come to learn that both he and brother Tao have a long list of family members--from brothers and sisters to grandaunts and fourth cousins thrice removed--who had left behind a good number of things. Such an extensive family tree is bound to have the endless coffers, no?"
"... you do know that's impossible?" Han Yimu spat out almost instinctively, regretting it. She merely glanced at him and smirked.
"Another thing you'll come to learn," she said. "With Master... nothing will feel impossible, trust me."