Departure

"Junwu... your father is back." Sitting leaned against the gatehouse tower, Xu Yuan held Li Junwu’s cold corpse, his gaze serenely watching the distant horizon. These were the first words he had spoken to the woman in his arms since she passed away. The mortal frame of a Body Integration cultivator would not decay for decades; she appeared just as she had in life, yet she would never answer again. Dawn broke. The rising sun traced a dividing line across the earth, cleaving the world in two as it swept from east to west—one half light, the other shadow. Upon the horizon still veiled in night, a plume of dust emerged—a vast, billowing cloud, arriving long after it was needed. The earth rumbled. Amid the swirling dust, ten thousand armored heavy cavalry were faintly visible. The Desert Wolf Demon Cavalry had arrived. On the dawn of the fourth day, they reached the prefectural city. Amid the swirling yellow sands, Zhenxi Prefectural City, steeped in death, welcomed its first breath of life from the outside world. The soldiers within opened the battered gates to receive their brethren. Yet below the gatehouse tower, there were no chaotic clamors of marching troops entering the city; it was quiet, almost eerily so. Save for the snorts and hoofbeats of the demon steeds beneath them, not a single sound arose from the vast ranks of the Desert Wolf Demon Cavalry as they marched inward. They silently gazed upon this colossal city before them, now both familiar and strange. Most of the Zhenxi Army who had lived through the Dachao Turmoil had grown old. The soldiers of this generation had grown up amid Great Yan's prosperity and strength, never experiencing those days of burning, slaughter, and pillage. And so, When the riders peered through the slits of their visors and saw the once-towering, sturdy walls riddled with cracks, and the once-orderly streets reduced to crumbling ruins, their eyes held bewilderment, shock, and fury—yet not a single sound. Every one of them had begun their military service in this great city that bore the army's name. Here they trained, here they cultivated, and here they forged their first bonds with their comrades-in-arms. With their youth and lives, they guarded this mighty city. Yet now, this stronghold named Zhenxi had been reduced to ashes while they were away on campaign against the barbarians. In the silence of the marching ranks, Every emotion coalesced into something called hatred. *The army's morale can be turned to purpose.* Watching the ranks enter and sensing the chilling killing intent radiating from the military array below, Xu Yuan thought with an indifferent gaze. The sects had likely planned to direct the Zhenxi Army's hatred toward the imperial court after the war. The victors write the truth, while the vanquished are buried beneath the ruins of history. But now, Victory in this battle and the fervor of a multitude crying Junwu's name would allow this spirit to be wielded by the Prime Minister's Manor, becoming a sharp blade in his hand to strike against the sects... At this thought, A strand of white hair drifted past Xu Yuan's eyes on the breeze, making him freeze. Staring blankly down at the pale face of the woman in his arms, Xu Yuan tugged hard at his own hair, then bit his trembling lip and looked away. She had died for him, Yet he was treating her death as a bargaining chip. Xu Yuan did not know what brought about this state of mind. Hatred? Perhaps, perhaps not. The moment Li Junwu's life was extinguished, endless hatred and guilt had nearly consumed him, but as time passed, he felt himself rapidly growing numb. Snapping back to reality, he realized he was actually analyzing the causes of these emotions and subconsciously trying to sever them at the root to preserve his rationality... The wind picked up, stirring her waist-length white hair. Like delicate fingers brushing across his cheek, it seemed to comfort the indignation and fury he had nowhere to vent. After an unknown time, A faint sound of footsteps landing came from the roof of the gatehouse. Very soft. So close, yet the lost-in-thought Xu Yuan hadn't noticed the newcomer's arrival at all until the figure stepped slowly into the edge of his vision and came to a halt. Xu Yuan turned his head to look. There stood an old man in battle armor, staring dazed at Li Junwu as she slept peacefully in his arms. The Marquis of Zhenxi. This was the first time Xu Yuan had ever seen Li Junwu's father. His armor gleamed cold in the dawn light. Those small eyes stared blankly at the woman whose youth and beauty had perished in Xu Yuan's embrace. The moment he laid eyes on him, Xu Yuan understood why this bosom brother of his had always called him "the old man." The Marquis of Zhenxi really did look old—dark-skinned, gaunt and short, his face crisscrossed with deep wrinkles. Rather than a famed marquis whose name silenced crying Dachao children in fear, he looked more like an ordinary peasant farmer one might encounter anywhere in the fields of Great Yan. Silence stretched on for a long time. Xu Yuan slowly lowered his gaze and whispered, "...I'm sorry." "..." As those words fell, the illusion shattered. The marquis's straight back slumped. His calloused hand repeatedly rubbed a slash mark on the waist of his armor. Several times, he gingerly raised a hand toward his child, only to shrink back each time. Looking at her face, Xu Yuan murmured softly: "Before she passed, Junwu wanted me to tell you that she held this city for Zhenxi Manor, that she made the entire city cry out the name of Qingle, and... that she missed you dearly, and missed her mother." He finished, and silence followed. A gentle breeze swept by, and this Semi-Saint—even bolstered by the military array—swayed unsteadily, dropping to one knee trembling upon the sloped roof of the gatehouse. The frail old man knelt upon the stones, gasping for air. His narrow eyes blinked repeatedly, shimmering with tears, while his weak fingers dug a deep gouge into the hard stone roof. His armor scattered the frigid glint of the sun. Looking upon his cold, lifeless daughter, the Marquis of Zhenxi opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out—only a few muffled, broken, hoarse sounds squeezed from his throat. "..." Xu Yuan kept his eyes downcast, not looking at the old man beside him. At this moment, the man at his side was not the Marquis of Zhenxi who shook Great Yan, but merely a father who had just lost his daughter. His sorrow and disarray should not be witnessed by outsiders. "Junwu, I'm going..." After sitting quietly for a few breaths, Xu Yuan whispered softly into the ear of the woman in his arms. He laid her down gently before the old man, then slowly rose to his feet. Yet at that moment, The Marquis of Zhenxi's voice suddenly called out, suppressing a tremble: "Come back. Sit down." "..." Xu Yuan paused in his steps and sat back down. "Stay further away from Junwu," the marquis said. "..." In silence, Xu Yuan shifted half a zhang away. The little old man known as the Marquis of Zhenxi sat down beside Li Junwu and asked in a low voice, "...Junwu is dead. Do you have nothing to say to me?" Looking out at the yellow dunes and ravines beyond the walls, Xu Yuan replied numbly, "Junwu's death began because of me, and ended because of me..." The marquis cut him off, keeping his emotions under a tight rein: "I didn't ask to hear your repentance. If I made you pay with your life, would Junwu come back?" "..." Xu Yuan fell silent. The marquis's voice was tinged with weariness: "I'm not senile yet. If I kill someone, I will kill the ones who took Junwu's life, not a profligate scoundrel like you who led her astray." "..." Xu Yuan said nothing. The Marquis of Zhenxi sat close by his daughter, gripping his own armor tightly as he spoke slowly: "Then again, I have no right to lecture you. The reason Junwu joined the army—I knew it from the start. But the girl's death... was it not also the sin I forged myself all those years ago, the disaster I planted with my own hands...?" The armored old man lowered his eyes and muttered softly: "Young and arrogant, looking down on everything. I thought I could scheme against the world and control it all, treated the realm's heroes like dirt, and even believed I could outmaneuver the current Emperor and your father... Heh, what an utter fool." Xu Yuan subconsciously glanced at the old man beside him, not saying a word. The Marquis of Zhenxi was not as worthless as he made himself out to be; he had possessed the capital to back up that arrogance. Born to a hunter, he had plunged into the border army alone, and by age twenty-five he was already commanding tens of thousands of troops to bring the Dachao Turmoil to an end, earning fief and title. Even across the ten-thousand-year history of the dynasty, such a feat was rare. It was only unfortunate that he had collided head-on with a dazzling era teeming with monsters. With his daughter gone, the Marquis of Zhenxi seemed to shed the shackles of his stature, turning into an ordinary old man of the streets, rambling about the past: "I schemed a future where the military entered politics. I named my daughter Junwu, wanting her to inherit everything I conquered. But around that very time, I realized the Zhenxi Manor under my command had grown bloated beyond control. So many orders couldn't be carried out; my hands were tied at every turn." At this, the marquis gazed out at the sand gullies beyond the walls, speaking faintly: "I tried to solve it. I tried every means to gather power back into my hands, wanting to scrape bone and carve out the tumor with brute force. But the poison had already spread through the whole body, and I was helpless against it. "Only then did I realize how vast the gulf was between me and those two in the imperial court. I couldn't even handle the affairs of a single province, yet I dared dream of outscheming them. And so I took the initiative to send the young Junwu to Di'an, and petitioned His Majesty to grant her the title of Qingle. "Arrogant at first, subservient later—laughable." When his words trailed off, only the howling wind remained. After a long while, The Marquis of Zhenxi looked back at Xu Yuan: "Xu Changtian, avenge Junwu, and I will give Zhenxi Manor to you." Xu Yuan replied calmly, "Even if you hadn't asked, I would do so." Turning sideways, the marquis reached out with his wrinkle-lined hand to stroke his daughter's cold face, just as he had when she was small, deathly pallor filling his eyes: "Within a month, I will slaughter every last traitor. When that happens, the structure of Zhenxi will collapse. How much of it your Prime Minister's Manor can swallow will be up to you." With that, the armored old man hunched his back and tenderly gathered Li Junwu into his arms, gazing down at the city in ruins: "I am a failure. A lifetime on horseback, holding off the Dachao, defending the realm's gate... yet I couldn't protect my own daughter. "In the end, "I don't even have the right to avenge her with my own hands... heh." The Marquis of Zhenxi departed with Li Junwu. Xu Yuan remained sitting on the gatehouse tower, lost in thought, overlooking everything in the city. With his current cultivation, he could easily see every corner of this giant city. He could see Si Zijing, who had previously been half-dead, now able to get out of bed to handle official duties. Though his severed limb hadn't been reattached, that did not hinder the drive of this Transcendent Realm expert. Beside him stood Zhou Chen. During the battle, Xu Yuan hadn't paid attention to that fellow, unsure whether he had played dead or been busy dealing with the insect swarm. Besides these two diligent senior members of the Black Scale Guards, in a courtyard not far away, he saw female constable Xu Mengxi. She was kneeling beside Huang Shiwei's corpse, muttering something, her eyes rimmed red as if she had been crying. As for the Desert Divine Maiden, Jiayi, she had been placed under house arrest by the Zhenxi Army's high command. She had been crying in her room for four days straight, her emerald-green eyes bloodshot. Xu Yuan hesitated over whether to go see the Divine Maiden, but ultimately gave up on the idea. Looking at that woman would only remind him of that idiot. He was exhausted. Let the remaining matters in the Western Desert be handled by the people sent by his father. Looking up at the boundless azure sky above, Xu Yuan gave a light leap and dropped into the ruined prefectural city below. Strolling aimlessly, no one paid him any attention. Once the relief of surviving had passed, the heavy atmosphere of grief and parting hung over every corner of Zhenxi Prefectural City. Halfway through, Xu Yuan suddenly halted his steps, quietly staring at a two-story inn by the roadside. It was the inn where Li Junwu and Jiayi had hidden when they first arrived in Zhenxi Prefectural City. It hadn't been destroyed, though its doors were shut tight. Perhaps subconsciously, he had wandered here of all places. He wanted to slip inside, but thought better of it and held back the urge. When an old friend is gone, the realization always strikes during life's mundane moments; fragments of memory surface before one's eyes, and wave upon wave of emotion spreads unbidden through the heart. In his past life, he had always believed that true friendship could never exist between an attractive man and woman. Li Junwu proved that this was indeed true, yet his own reality proved that it could also work the other way around. He had never loved Li Junwu. Or rather, That person had hidden it too well. Just when she finally couldn't hide it any longer, she went and left before a promiscuous bastard like him could fall in love with her... Women truly are born actors. A mere fool had managed to put on an act that fooled him for most of his life so far. Standing there for a long time, he casually formed an incantation to send a voice transmission to Si Zijing, instructing him to buy up this street and preserve all the furnishings inside the inn. Then, Xu Yuan turned and walked away. Perhaps triggered by the sights around him, walking along the avenues of Zhenxi Prefectural City left a hollow void in Xu Yuan's chest. He suddenly felt that before the Marquis of Zhenxi carried her away, he should have said more to her instead of just holding her in silence. Yet he also felt that waiting until someone could no longer hear you before speaking was simply too pitiable and tragic. Her misfortune, his tragedy. In his aimless wandering, Xu Yuan walked far, far away. He went to the upscale restaurant where the two had shared a meal. He went to the Military Affairs Hall in the Zhenxi prefectural yamen. Yet both places had already been destroyed. Having retraced every footprint the two of them had left in the Zhenxi prefectural yamen, Xu Yuan stepped out of the yamen gates and suddenly let out a faint chuckle. Playing with the Dao charm of life and death on his fingertips, his smile turned bitter. That woman... seemed to have truly slipped away from his side forever... In the end, Xu Yuan returned to that gatehouse tower, only to find someone already waiting for him. Robes of pure white fluttered in the wind. Xu Yuan called out softly: "Uncle." Feng Jiuxuan casually tossed a black box to him. "A gift from your maternal grandfather. I retrieved it for you." After the war ended, Feng Jiuxuan had come by, but he was ill-suited for comforting people—in his childhood, whenever he comforted his sad younger sister, he only ever made her cry harder. So after watching from afar for a moment, Feng Jiuxuan had prepared to leave to track someone down. Just before he set off, however, Xu Yuan had handed him a few items belonging to his father and asked him to retrieve something. Taking the black box containing dozens of Sumeru rings, Xu Yuan nodded gently and asked, "How soon do we leave for the capital?" "..." Feng Jiuxuan cast a deadpan glance at his expressionless nephew and said, "No rush. On the way back, I ran into a few people you might know." With that, Feng Jiuxuan vanished. As he was wondering what that meant, Xu Yuan saw a woman in black wearing a dark bamboo hat leap from the battlements onto the gatehouse roof. Through the veil, her clear, delicate gaze stared straight at him. Meeting her eyes for a moment, Xu Yuan curved his eyes and chuckled faintly as he always did: "Ran Qingmo, you actually..." Before he could finish, The black hat went flying high, and a fragrant breeze washed over him. The girl in black stood on her tiptoes and threw her arms around him, her soft palm gently stroking his long hair. "Xu Yuan... please don't be sad, okay...?" "..." In an instant, Xu Yuan felt his breath catch in his chest. His arms hanging at his sides wanted to embrace the girl before him, yet they hovered in midair, hesitant to reach out. Soon, though, he felt the girl's cool hand guiding his own arms around her waist, before she went back to patting his head. Feeling the girl's warm body, Xu Yuan's eyes flickered for a few breaths. Lowering his gaze, he buried his face in her shoulder, lips trembling slightly: "...Thank you. And I'm sorry." Held in his embrace, Ran Qingmo remained on her tiptoes, looking up. Her beautiful eyes blinked a couple of times. After pondering seriously, she said in a clear voice: "Xu Yuan, 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' are the two most worthless things in this world. So don't be sad anymore..." Xu Yuan froze, his arms tightening around her slender frame. A trembling laugh broke through his voice: "You people... "Why do you all love copying the things I say so much...?"