Chapter 7: Return

The newcomer’s face remained expressionless, and the surroundings were deathly still; within the entire Temple of the City God, only the sound of the bamboo staff touching the floor could be heard. As the man in white drew closer, the shadow grew agitated, involuntarily retreating two steps. At that moment, the stranger’s words still echoed in his mind. The man before him knew the location of the Nine Venoms Sect as if it were his own backyard; threats from the sect would be of no use.

“What exactly do you want?”

The shadow still held Lu Tingfang in his grasp, though it seemed he had forgotten it entirely. The newcomer paused at the question, then pointed his bamboo staff toward the youth.

“This child’s fate is not yours to command. Through the ages, beneath the boundless sky, his destiny is untouchable by any hand.”

“Him?”

The shadow, startled, finally turned his gaze to the youth in his grasp. No one could know how shocked he was behind his black robe and mask. He had thought highly enough of the boy, but the implication was far greater—the stranger considered his fate more precious than even the emperor’s.

What strange and unfathomable words! What sacrilege!

Lu Tingfang could not move nor speak, clutched tightly by the shadow, but he heard the voice of the man in white. In that instant, two streams of tears slid down his cheeks. He could not say why he wept; he was no longer afraid.

“So you mean this child’s fate is more important than the Emperor’s? More noble than any sect leader’s?”

The shadow questioned in a deep voice. The man in white nodded silently. The world returned to silence, and none could guess what the two were thinking. After ten seconds, the shadow drew a deep breath and laughed wildly, head thrown back.

“I don’t care who you are, but you are the most arrogant person I’ve ever met. To scorn the emperor is one thing, but to disregard all the sect leaders and masters of this age—such blasphemy! Do you think yourself an ancient master of the Heaven-Merging Realm, or an immortal untouched by death? You say I cannot command this boy’s fate, but I will kill him before your eyes!”

The shadow seemed possessed, his voice wild with fury. With his power, killing the youth would require no more than a twitch of his finger. Yet the stranger’s claim that he could not command the boy’s life or death was a grave insult.

Even as the words left his mouth, the shadow increased the pressure of his grip, intending to snap the boy’s neck as easily as crushing an ant. But two seconds later, he froze. His fingers were not around the youth’s neck. Though their positions remained unchanged, a gap of an inch now separated his hand from the boy’s throat. Most terrifying of all, he felt utterly immobilized, as if his acupoints had been sealed.

“Soul arts! Your cultivation can control all things silently—who, who are you—”

The shadow’s pupils dilated, his voice trembling. The newcomer, however, paid him no heed. With a turn of his palm, he summoned a pure golden flame, sending it straight to the shadow’s heart.

Boom!

Like thunder on a clear day, the temple doors exploded into fragments, the air thick with black mists and blood. The man in white frowned, stepping into the haze, and found only a severed arm and fresh blood upon the floor.

“A substitute talisman—a secret art for surviving tribulation. I was careless!”

He sighed deeply outside the shattered door, but did not pursue. The black mist and blood soon dispersed. He turned to Lu Tingfang and said, “Come with me,” then strode away, never once glancing at anyone else in the temple.

The young military officer, seeing the man about to depart, took a deep breath and called out, “I am Du Yuetao. Thank you, immortal master, for saving my life! Please leave your name so I may repay you someday!”

“Life is but a dream, coming and going; ten thousand generations pass like dust—empty and fleeting. This is your own fate; our meeting is destiny, there is no need for thanks. You are deeply poisoned—take this talisman, dissolve it in water, drink, and rest for half a month to recover.”

Though the man in white quickly vanished, his voice remained, carried on a yellow charm that drifted into the temple and landed in the young officer’s palm. Meanwhile, Lu Tingfang, accompanied by Lu Xin, hurried after him. They knew not who this man was, but Lu Tingfang’s intuition told him that following him might lead to unimaginable achievement.

“Life is but a dream, coming and going; ten thousand generations pass like dust—empty and fleeting...”

The young military officer stared at the talisman in his hand, murmured to himself, and sank to the floor. The others in the temple finally exhaled, collapsing in relief. Whatever else, this calamity had been survived.

A quarter hour later, the man in white, leaning on his bamboo staff, left Little Creek Town, heading westward. Lu Tingfang led Lu Xin, following in silence. Not until they reached a pavilion did the man stop.

“To Chang’an, countless mountains and rivers lie ahead. Will you follow me?”

“Chang...an? Chang’an? Brother, where is Chang’an? What will we do there?”

Lu Xin scratched his head, confused by his cousin’s words. The official language of the Tang was mainly Qin dialect, and while the man spoke in Tang common speech, Lu Xin could only understand part of it. The man in white did not answer, simply gazing at Lu Tingfang.

“What shall we do in Chang’an?”

“Cultivation.”

When Lu Tingfang spoke, the man in white finally replied with two words. Lu Tingfang, sharp as ever, understood instantly.

“If I follow you to Chang’an, does that mean I can’t bring my little brother?”

The man in white nodded, his gaze deep as the starry sky. Lu Tingfang fell silent. In this world, Lu Xin was his only kin. The boy was too young; without his care, how would he survive? Lu Tingfang dared not imagine.

After a long while, he gritted his teeth and looked straight into the man’s eyes.

“You just said my fate is more important than the emperor’s?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Do you know my origins?”

“I do not.”

The man in white tapped the ground twice with his bamboo staff, then lifted his gaze to the sky. It was noon; the sun blazed overhead, skies clear and cloudless. A spring breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers through the forest. The world seemed more lucid and pure than ever.

“My eyes can discern destiny, and have never erred. You possess a Dao bone—an extraordinary talent for cultivation, rare in this world. Your fate is that of a Celestial; you are not bound by the mortal world or its elements. How could the emperor compare?”

His voice was gentle, calm, yet every word could shake the world. Should the Tang emperor hear such words, it would mean the extermination of nine generations. If spoken by anyone else, Lu Tingfang would not believe it. But this man’s abilities were unfathomable, and there was no reason for him to lie.

“Master, please accept my bow!”

Lu Tingfang suddenly knelt, knocking his head three times to the ground. His heart surged with excitement. Though caution was wise, he knew that if he did not seize this chance, it might never come again.

“Good. From this day forth, I will protect you.”

The man in white nodded, accepting Lu Tingfang’s request without further words. He turned to leave, but noticed the youth remained kneeling, head bowed.

“Xin, kneel and greet our master.”

“Master? What master?”

Lu Xin, though already nine, had lived sheltered and could not comprehend what had transpired. He knew only that Lu Tingfang was his sole kin and support. Whatever happened, he would follow his cousin. When told to kneel, he didn’t think twice. But as he bent, an invisible force held his knees, preventing him from kneeling.

“I know what you wish to say, but your brother’s talents are ordinary; his bones are not suited for my teachings. Moreover, the journey to Chang’an will be perilous—I cannot split my attention. Leave him here; let him live out his days in peace.”

“But... Master, Xin is my cousin, we share the same blood. We come from the same place. How can his talents be ordinary?”

“I never err in judgment. Come, the road ahead is long. When you are strong enough, you can return and help him cross. It is for your good, and his.”

The man spoke with his back to the brothers, his tone remarkably calm. Though simple-hearted, Lu Xin was not so naive as to miss the situation: the stranger intended for his cousin to leave him behind. The thought of surviving alone in a foreign world filled his eyes with tears.

“Who are you, why must you take my brother Tingfang? I’ve done nothing wrong! I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to be alone... Brother, tell him you won’t go, you won’t leave me, please...”

Lu Xin cried loudly, his face streaming with tears. He clung to Lu Tingfang’s arm, afraid to let go, fearing that this separation would be forever, making him an orphan for good. The terror of this unfamiliar world, the dread of loneliness, overwhelmed the nine-year-old boy.

“Xin, I’m sorry. Brother... Brother has to go, I...”

“Tingfang, don’t say it. I won’t let you go, you can’t leave!”

Lu Xin held Lu Tingfang tightly, using every ounce of strength he had. He was more frightened now than he had been in the temple. But fate, like a script already written, ordained everything; those destined to leave could not be held back. Like the lonely pavilion by the roadside, sending off countless travelers. Spring passes, spring returns, flowers bloom and fade—but how many old friends ever see their return?