The End of an Era

A winter wind brushed past the old tree, shaking loose its very last withered leaf. The courtyard was just as it had always been. Scenes from years gone by surfaced like dreams before his eyes; from childhood to adulthood, Xu Yuan had stepped into this courtyard countless times. As a young boy, he had run to this study mostly to look for his father. Back then, his heart had been simple. In the eyes of a child, the figure of a father was towering, invincible, and omnipotent, drawing him instinctively closer. In his youth, his nature gradually shifted, and his desires changed with it. The reason he ran into the study was no longer to see his old man. Though the man remained all-powerful, Xu Yuan had no wish to run into him here at all. After all, he had come to steal. "My father's thought is national policy." If he could pilfer even the smallest scrap of information from this study and sell it, it would be inside intelligence capable of reaching the heavens. Later still, he had returned to how he was at the very start. Because this father was, as always, omnipotent. He was like a towering ancient tree sheltering the entire Prime Minister's Manor; so long as he stood, anyone under its canopy felt an incomparable sense of safety. Xu Yuan had once thought time would flow like this forever, but the world seldom conformed to one's desires. Entering the study, everything inside remained as before. Just as on the countless occasions Xu Yuan had stepped into this room, his father sat quietly behind the desk reviewing memorials. Seeing him enter, his father did not raise his eyes, nor did he halt his brush, but simply gave a casual instruction as he always had. "Sit first." "Yes." The familiar person, the identical words, yet an unfamiliar heaviness. His boots rustled softly against the floor as Xu Yuan silently made his way to the study's tearoom and took a seat. Looking through the lattice window, he took in the snowy panorama of Di'an. The scrolls and documents displayed on the bookshelves were arranged in perfect order as always. A clean fragrance of ink mingled with the scent of burning herbs, drifting through every corner of the room. It was so quiet that only the rustle of turning pages and the whisper of the brush could be heard. It was like the most ordinary day of years past: his father reviewing memorials behind the desk, while he waited in the tearoom. Xu Yuan had never been a patient man. In the past, whenever his father summoned him, he would always find something to occupy himself while his father tended to state affairs—brewing tea to sip, reading, or cultivating—never sitting in quiet stillness. Today, however, he was extraordinarily still. Xu Yuan listened to every page turned, every stroke of the brush in the study, wanting to engrave all these things he had once taken for granted deep into the marrow of his bones. If it were possible, he even wished time could freeze at this very instant. Yet in the end, that was impossible. Clear water washed clean the wolf-hair tip of the brush; a paperweight pressed down upon the closed document. The Prime Minister of Great Yan had finished reviewing the final memorial of his life. Sitting quietly in his familiar seat for a moment, he cast his gaze around the unchanged scenery, drifting slightly into thought. Then he rose, taking slow, measured steps toward the child who would take up the torch of sparks from his hands. Xu Yinhe looked at Xu Yuan, whose eyes were heavy with sorrow, and said softly, "After the battle at Tianmen Mountain, the Pavilion Master of the Overseeing Heaven Pavilion said she would tell you the truth of their Heaven's Will. Father thought you would waver regarding your own path." Xu Yuan offered a faint smile and replied in a low voice, "Did she tell you as well?" "No, but I had my conjectures." "Then why do you ask?" "..." After a moment of silence, Xu Yinhe's deep, dark eyes filled with appreciation. "A vision capable of moving countless people to follow one after another, capable of reigniting even after being extinguished—even if one walks a different path, one would still be swayed by it to some degree." Xu Yuan paused for a moment before murmuring, "It did have an effect. But tens of thousands of years is too long; the Overseeing Heaven Pavilion is already a relic of an old era." "Heh." Xu Yinhe did not press for details; with this answer, he was already satisfied. Silence fell between them once more, broken only by the soft sounds of water boiling for tea. When the first steaming cup of fragrant tea was pushed before him, Xu Yuan spoke quietly: "I thought you would join hands with Wen Xinyun." "You visited Tianmen Mountain?" "Yes. There were three auras there. The third was not Tianye, and it was identical to the one at the Imperial Mausoleum." "That entity in the heavens indeed intervened." Xu Yinhe's hands never paused, speaking as though recounting a trivial matter. "Wen Xinyun knew far more about it than Father anticipated. But alas, Father was unable to join hands with her." Xu Yuan stared at his reflection upon the tea's surface. "Because of Li Zhaoyuan?" "Why do you think so?" "He cannot tolerate you, nor can he tolerate Wen Xinyun." "..." After a moment of contemplation, Xu Yinhe spoke honestly: "That was part of the consideration. The means Father used to locate Wen Xinyun were provided by him, and he himself should also be able to monitor the whereabouts of Wen Xinyun's other true bodies. Therefore, Father had to kill her." "And the other reasons?" "Father cannot kill it." "..." Xu Yuan fell silent. Xu Yinhe poured himself a cup of tea. Taking a slow, measured sip, he said softly, "Do you recall Father telling you once before that that thing is a kind of Dao?" "I remember." Xu Yuan nodded. Xu Yinhe set down his teacup and glanced out the window at the snow-veiled sky. "At first, Father was not entirely clear on the state of its existence either. But after clashing with it twice, I now have some idea." "What is it?" "You should have felt it as well when you broke through to the Origin Beginning Realm." "..." Confusion flickered in Xu Yuan's eyes before his pupils contracted. He asked hesitatingly, "You mean cleansing the body with Dao?" "Indeed." Xu Yinhe said slowly, "The path Father pioneered allows one to break through from the Bodily Fusion Realm to the Origin Beginning Realm. But have you ever considered what would happen if one does not halt the method of washing with Dao, allowing the Dao charm to continuously cleanse and temper the body?" "One's body will completely transform into Dao charm," Xu Yuan answered without hesitation. "...and ultimately be consumed by the Dao charm." "Yes." Xu Yinhe nodded, murmuring, "Though Father does not know his exact method of cultivation, this predecessor likely integrated himself into the Dao charm of heaven and earth through some means." "Integrated?" Xu Yuan recalled that sensation, a terror no less harrowing than standing between life and death. "Cleansing the body with Dao consumes one's will. If not halted, one's own body, emotions, and memories will all be swept away and dissolved in a one-way confluence with the Dao charm." Xu Yinhe shook his head in disagreement: "Not entirely. When a person's will is sufficiently resilient, it is enough to reverse the flow and command the Dao charm." "Father, a person can indeed withstand the erosion of Dao charm for a time, but they can never sustain it over the long term..." Halfway through his rebuttal, Xu Yuan's words abruptly cut off. He thought of the Heavenly Yan divine soul. He thought of that emotion-stripping State of Godlessness. Involuntarily furrowing his brow, he muttered, "...It's the Heavenly Yan Art." "This is the path he chose." Seeing the realization dawn on his son, Xu Yinhe recounted steadily, "Changtian, this predecessor must have lived in an exceedingly distant past, perhaps so far back it reaches the very dawn of cultivation. Father does not know what he endured in that era, but merely for his willingness to endure eternal torment alone for the sake of a single obsession, he commands the respect of us latecomers." Having said that, Xu Yinhe's tone shifted: "Yet respect does not equal approval. The grand torrent of the times rolls ever forward. No matter how noble this predecessor's original intention was when establishing this order, when it diverges from the era and stands at odds with the path you hold dear, then trample it to dust without fear." Their eyes met. Xu Yuan found his father's gaze dazzling as the rising sun. But this time, he did not look away: "You know what I want to do?" Xu Yinhe gave a faint smile, tinged with a slight sigh: "Around those close to you, you can never hide your intentions." Xu Yuan remained silent for a long time before speaking faintly: "Since you know, why entrust the future of this world to me? What I do next may well reduce all your decades of effort to naught." "Why not?" Xu Yinhe looked at his son, deep admiration in his eyes, yet beneath that admiration lay a subtle ache of tenderness. "Changtian, the future you desire is far grander than Father's, but it will also be far harder." "That is why your son wishes for your help." "..." Xu Yinhe's profound dark eyes widened slightly, then softened with a helpless smile: "Father would gladly do so, of course. But you should know the state of Father's body." Xu Yuan naturally knew. Under the perception of his spiritual vision, three auras surpassing the Saint Realm coiled within his father's body. Familiar with his father's magical system and piecing together the fragments of intelligence, he could even reconstruct the battle that had unfolded. In the battle of Tianmen Mountain, all three combatants stood at the pinnacle of an era. For people like them, the notion of being invincible among peers had long ceased to apply. Yet his father, in what amounted to nearly fighting one against two, had slain Wen Xinyun and inflicted some form of damage upon 'Heaven's Will'—rendering Him unable even to maintain the emissary's State of Godlessness. And the price for all of this was the body before him, now teetering on the verge of collapse. Xu Yuan tightened his fists slightly: "I have a way to heal you." Xu Yinhe was slightly surprised, but the helplessness in his eyes deepened: "The Dao charm of life, or the Dao charm of death? Or a Domain of the Living and the Dead like that ghost infant in the Western Desert?" "Neither." Xu Yuan placed a book and several medicinal pills onto the tea table. Xu Yinhe looked at these items, a look of wonder passing over his face: "A cultivation manual?" "Yes." "The method that healed your severed meridians?" "Yes. Cultivating this art requires a specific pill, but its recipe was lost to time. I secretly had Jiang He work on recreating it for three years. Though he could not replicate it completely, given its current state of completion, it should be worth an attempt. Besides, there is no other choice." "..." This time, Xu Yinhe silently picked up the manual without saying a word. He knew how ruthless Li Yaoxuan's friend's methods were, and he knew how perilous his son's severed meridians had been back then. Perhaps this art truly could heal him. As he read through the contents of the manual, awe and astonishment flitted through Xu Yinhe's black eyes, only to settle into tranquil stillness at last. Xu Yuan kept his eyes cast downward, staring at the untouched tea before him. The reflection in the pale green liquid swayed gently in the breeze. With his father's insight, he would inevitably see through the underlying principles of this cultivation method. In other words, his father would certainly see that he was no longer who he had been back then. Xu Yuan's heart beat faster with every rustle of a turning page, as though waiting for some final judgment. Heaven and earth were silent; seconds and minutes ticked away. Clack. Having finished reading the Blood Origin Heart Fallen Art, Xu Yinhe gently laid the booklet aside. At that moment, Xu Yuan held his breath. Xu Yinhe's tone remained as gentle as ever, without the slightest change: "Every generation brings forth its luminaries. This cultivation manual is truly remarkable." "Yes." "Perhaps it truly could heal Father's body, but Father does not intend to cultivate it." "Yes..." The word left Xu Yuan's mouth before he froze in shock. He quickly looked up and asked, "Why? This should be the cultivation method the Heavenly Gate Sword Immortal prepared to break beyond the Saint Realm. You should be able to use it." Xu Yinhe smiled as he explained his reasoning: "The uncertainty of the pill is too great. And even if it succeeds, Father would have to disperse his cultivation. Do you believe this realm could tolerate a Xu Yinhe without cultivation?" "It took me only three years to reach the Transcendent Realm. With your talent, starting over would take even less time..." "You are being impatient. From now on, you must rely on yourself for everything; seeing you like this will not make Father happy." "I am merely stating a fact." "Changtian, your experience cannot be replicated by anyone." "Then you can feign your death!" "It cannot be concealed. Even if it could fool Li Zhaoyuan, it could never fool that predecessor in the heavens." Having said this, Xu Yinhe smoothed his robes and sat up straight. Looking at Xu Yuan with a smile in his eyes, he continued, "Besides, he is likely about to descend into the mortal realm. Father must, after all, do one last thing for you, and for the future you desire." "..." Xu Yuan was stunned. He did not know where his father had obtained this information. It could not have come from Tianye. So... from where did he learn it? Xu Yuan suddenly felt a pang of resentment toward his father's omnipotence. Watching the turmoil in his child's eyes, Xu Yinhe finally sighed softly in his heart. Caressing the Sumeru Ring on his finger, his eyes grew gentle and warm: "Official matters can never be finished. Father has already bid farewell to Changge and Xinyao." With that, Xu Yinhe's fingertips brushed across the tea table. Looking at Xu Yuan, he smiled: "It is the last time. Wine, or tea?" Xu Yuan buried his grief deep within, his voice slightly hoarse: "As you wish." "Very well." Xu Yinhe responded. With a wave of his sleeve, an antique tea set appeared on the low table before them, and he began to brew tea and rinse cups for the two of them himself. The porcelain clinked softly as cups touched. In times past, brewing tea had always seemed to take so long, but now the moments felt fleeting. When the final cup of tea brewed by his father was pushed before him, Xu Yuan could bear it no longer and asked: "Do you have nothing you wish to ask me?" Xu Yinhe refilled his own cup and countered, "Ask what?" "Ask about that cultivation method." Xu Yuan gripped his teacup a little tighter, his voice trembling slightly. "Ask about the soul fusion method in that art." "..." Xu Yinhe looked at the young man who had hung his head like a child who had done something wrong, and said softly: "Why bother asking? In the future, do not lower your head anymore. "Son, "whether you are Changtian or not, could Father really fail to see?" "..." Xu Yuan was speechless. Finishing the tea in his cup, Xu Yinhe rose to his feet. Hearing the movement, Xu Yuan immediately stood up as well, instinctively calling out: "Father." "..." Xu Yinhe glanced back. Wordless silence. Wisps of snow slipped from the eaves, kicking up a plume of white mist. The study, heavy with memories, seemed to return to the past, returning to those countless peaceful afternoons. In a daze, Xu Yinhe seemed to see that little boy who had always burst through the door without warning, tumbling forward on unsteady legs while crying out "Daddy" in an unclear toddler's voice... Everything seemed to have returned to what once was. Yet this time, he did not reach out to catch the child's call. Just like his lifelong, unspoken silence, for the very last time, he vanished in silence from before his child's eyes, turning to walk toward the future his child desired...