Grand Preceptor

Aboard the flying boat, the two conversed with great delight, getting along so well they were nearly ready to swear brotherhood. With comparable cultivations, sharing their insights and verifying them against their own experiences brought enlightenment to both. The flying boat hurtled through the sky, but reaching Han Family Fort would still take considerable time. Qin Sang did not enter meditative seclusion. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed outside the vessel. White clouds drifted lazily through the vast azure sky. Ever-shifting mountains and rivers, mortal villages dotting the earth like pieces on a chessboard—scenery utterly unlike the Ancient Immortal Battlefield—retreated rapidly from view. "Fellow Daoist Han," Qin Sang said as he suddenly rose to his feet, a look of apology on his face. "I just recalled an urgent matter and fear I cannot accompany you to Han Family Fort after all. If the opportunity arises in the future, I will surely pay a visit." Taken aback, Patriarch Han hastily tried to dissuade him. "Fellow Daoist Qin, what matter could be so pressing? You saved my life, yet I nearly repaid your kindness with enmity and have not even made proper amends. Furthermore, regarding Zhen Ming..." Qin Sang slowly shook his head. "At Mount Guling, I merely lifted a hand. Please speak no more of life-saving kindness, Fellow Daoist Han. "Nor is this matter your fault. Guiding me to Youshan Cultivation Market back then, allowing me to step onto the immortal path, was already an opportunity others could only dream of. "I truly have urgent affairs to attend to. On another day, I will trouble you at Han Family Fort and share wine in good cheer. "As for Zhen Ming, so many years have passed. Whatever the truth was, it no longer matters..." Patriarch Han fell into thought upon hearing this. After a moment of contemplation, he looked deeply at Qin Sang and said, "I understand! However, Zhen Ming harbored vile intentions and owes you an explanation. Rest assured, I will handle it properly. In any case, I will never forget your kindness. Should you ever face trouble in the future, simply send word, and I will do everything in my power to assist you!" Qin Sang nodded and vaulted from the flying boat. "Until we meet again, Fellow Daoist Han." "Until we meet again!" Patriarch Han cupped his hands in farewell. Suddenly remembering something, he shouted toward Qin Sang's retreating figure, "Fellow Daoist Qin, Great Sui never relocated its capital! The Imperial Capital remains where it always was!" *** Night fell. Thousands of lamps illuminated Great Sui's Imperial Capital. Standing atop a mountain peak north of the city, Qin Sang looked down upon the magnificent metropolis. He realized the Imperial Capital was at least twice the size it had been when he left. Even Mount Chaosheng outside the city had now been enclosed within the outer walls. Its prosperity far surpassed bygone days. In just a few short decades, it had grown from a war-ravaged city to its present grandeur. Patriarch Han's praise of the Empress Regnant's extraordinary talent had been no exaggeration. A sudden gust stirred, and a figure barely perceptible to the naked eye drifted over like a wisp of breeze. It was clearly an evasion technique; this was no mortal martial arts master, but a cultivator. Qin Sang withdrew his gaze and looked down at the arrival. "May I ask if you are Senior Qin?" The newcomer landed before Qin Sang, took a glance at him, and hurriedly bowed. "And you are?" Qin Sang appraised the man. Judging by appearance alone, he looked in his forties or fifties, sporting a goatee and resembling a scholar. His cultivation was not high—only the eleventh layer of the Qi Refinement stage—and he wore exceptionally luxurious brocade robes. "Reporting to Senior, this junior is a descendant of the Han clan. The current patriarch is my clan uncle..." The scholar explained his background, then retrieved a letter and presented it with both hands. "The patriarch ordered me to deliver this letter to Senior Qin and instructed me to report the following: "Back then, Zhen Ming's younger brother lacked sufficient aptitude. Zhen Ming wished to use the inner sect's guard recruitment two years later to place his brother into the inner sect. Fearing the spot would be taken, he deceived his superiors and committed that vile act. "The patriarch has already dealt with it according to clan rules. "The chief culprit has been executed. "Furthermore, his descendants have had their cultivations crippled and been banished from Han Family Fort to fend for themselves." Qin Sang listened to the scholar's account while unfolding the letter. It was handwritten by Patriarch Han, filled with words of gratitude, apologies, and an invitation to visit Han Family Fort. Putting the letter away, Qin Sang cupped his hands to the scholar. "Thank you for making the journey, Fellow Daoist. Please also convey to Patriarch Han that I appreciate him upholding justice. When time permits, I will certainly visit." "Junior obeys!" The scholar paused, and seeing that Qin Sang had no further instructions, tactfully withdrew. *** Great Sui, the Grand Preceptor's Manor. It was already late at night, yet the study remained brightly lit. An old man with snow-white hair sat bent over his desk, writing rapidly amidst a mountain of official documents. Setting down his brush, the old man blew the ink dry, folded the paper, and slipped it into an envelope. Just then, his brow furrowed, and he began to cough violently. He clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, preventing anyone outside from hearing, and only managed to calm himself after a long while. "Ah! The years spare no one!" The old man lightly thumped his lower back, leaned against the chair, closed his eyes, and called softly, "Zhiniang, bring a few fresh candles, and brew another cup of refreshing tea..." *Creak!* An elderly woman pushed open the door carrying tea. A single glance at the old man's face revealed everything, and she said with heartache, "Coughing again? I told you to ask the emperor for a couple of medicinal pills, but you refused! Pushing yourself like this is no way to live! Didn't you say the emperor has grown weary of your presence and that you wanted to resign and retire into seclusion? Why do you still wear yourself out over so many affairs every day?" The old man took a sip of tea. His complexion improved slightly, and he patted her hand, murmuring softly, "Even if I resign, it must wait until I fulfill what the late emperor entrusted to me, so that I may answer to her spirit. The foundation that the late emperor and our comrades painstakingly built must never fall victim to the tragedy of policies dying with the ruler. The emperor will simply have to endure it for a few more years. Once the matter is settled, we will return to your hometown to live in seclusion, away from worldly affairs. Whether Great Sui rises or falls will no longer concern this old man." "Why go back to Mount Guling?" The woman kneaded his shoulders. "My childhood memories are filled with nothing but suffering. When your army attacked, I was captured and nearly... Only after you saved me did I find peace. Wherever you are, that is my home. Wait, wasn't Father-in-law buried on Mount Cuiming? Why don't we go to Mount Cuiming? The scenery there is lovely as well..." As she spoke, she glanced behind the study. Curiously, the Wu family possessed only a single spirit tablet, kept not in the ancestral hall, but here in the study. Stranger still, the tablet bore the name 'Wu the Mute,' hardly resembling a proper name. Beside the tablet lay a picture scroll, resting there, never once unrolled all these years. Her husband would only kowtow before it, never offering it incense. In all their years of marriage, he had never revealed the person's identity to her. When their children were ordered to kowtow before the portrait and asked out of curiosity, he would only say it depicted his teacher. When asked why they only kowtowed and burned no incense, he would say that his teacher possessed immense fortune and would surely achieve immortality. *** This old man was Wu Chuanzong, the beggar boy of long ago, now serving as the Grand Preceptor. Hearing his wife mention Mount Cuiming, Wu Chuanzong immediately thought of that figure from his past. Lost in thought, he murmured in a faint whisper: "I wonder where Teacher is today... Has he become an immortal?"