The towns of the Li family held a funeral draped in white and sackcloth. Following the deceased's last wishes, Li Xicheng did not make it a grand affair. Yet the Shanyue King, Li Jiman, rushed back in great haste, weeping bitterly with deep sorrow.
Whether this grief was genuine or not, the sentiment was at least conveyed. Li Xicheng helped him to his feet. Li Jiman had already reached the sixth stage of Qi Refinement, proving he had diligently applied himself to cultivation over the years.
However, for the present Li family, a Qi Refinement cultivator could no longer be considered a key fighting force. At best, they helped handle intermediate affairs. For every post across the family's spiritual mountains, hordes of cultivators competed, and in the past two years, the number of Qi Refinement members in the Jade Court Guard had entered double digits. A sixth-stage Qi Refinement cultivation was hardly anything remarkable.
Li Xijun kept vigil in the mountains for two months. Looking up one day, he saw the golden sun blazing brilliantly in a cloudless sky of ten thousand li. Raising an arm, he flicked his sleeves, brushing away a wisp of dust.
'The lake's waters stretch a thousand li... where would sandy dust come from...?'
He paused, astonishment spreading across his face, and murmured inwardly with a sigh of relief:
"Brother Ming succeeded!"
Li Xijun rushed down, and sure enough, inside the cave abode, golden light shone brightly amidst the rustling sound of wind. A man in Daoist robes stood with hands resting on a rail, his countenance youthful. Golden light and golden flames darted back and forth around him. Stepping over fire, he walked forward and chuckled:
"I have forged my Dao foundation! Beginning my cultivation at the age of six, twenty-seven years have passed to this day, and I have achieved the Huangyuan Pass."
Li Ximing had broken through to Foundation Establishment over half a month ago. After spending some time stabilizing his cultivation, he had emerged from seclusion. Calculating the time, Li Xijun said in surprise:
"It has only been... about three years. How difficult was it? Was it a natural culmination? How could it be so fast!"
Li Ximing paused, pondering:
"It was hardest at the start. Condensing it was strenuous. Although my chances of success were great, it still would have taken at least five years.
"Yet just a few months ago, I suddenly experienced visions of countless golden illusions, and the immortal foundation within my body began to condense on its own, dozens of times faster than my own diligent efforts. It condensed in no time... I have no idea what caused it."
Hearing about the golden light, Li Xijun suddenly recalled the Jianyang Ring and fell into thought. Meanwhile, Li Ximing was already boasting enthusiastically:
"This immortal foundation is called the Huangyuan Pass. It seizes celestial light, grasps flames, treads upon motes of luminescence, expels evils and averts calamities, germinates all living things, and beds ten in a single ni—ahem, ahem."
In his momentary triumph, he had let his tongue slip. He straightened up and explained seriously:
"It possesses two great wonders. First is Seizing Celestial Light—drawing upon heavenly radiance to cast arts, far surpassing ordinary magical luminescence."
He pinched his fingers together, and indeed, the spell light in his hand turned dazzling and radiant gold, as if he had cultivated some unique technique, blindingly brilliant. Li Xijun, having cultivated an ocular technique, did not avert his gaze, nodding as he looked straight into it. Only then did Li Ximing continue:
"The second is called Bright Yang Pass. It summons a radiant, luminous fortress pass to suppress enemies. As my cultivation deepens, this pass will grow ever taller and grander..."
He chuckled and went on:
"As for fire-controlling arts, yin-yang union, treading upon light-dust—those are all minor tricks, hardly worth mentioning!"
The Golden Hall Huangyuan Formula was, after all, a fourth-grade cultivation method. The immortal foundation forged from it was extraordinarily formidable, granting immense improvements across the board. Even without exclusive supplementary secret arts to practice alongside it, it still stood a cut above third-grade methods.
He was so overjoyed that for a moment he had not even noticed the white mourning sashes hanging across the mountain. Only when he saw the grief etched across Li Xijun's face did his expression belatedly change.
"This..."
Stunned, he froze. Before him, Li Xijun sighed softly:
"Seventh Brother... please restrain your grief."
Li Ximing's sleeves quivered. As if suddenly waking from a dream, he uttered:
"Oh!"
In an instant, his voice choked with tears. All the joy filling his heart vanished like smoke. Standing dazed in midair for several breaths, he asked:
"When did it happen? Has Father... been buried yet?"
He asked these words in a daze, tears beginning to flow. Descending through the air with Li Xijun into the mountains, Li Ximing choked:
"Eighth Brother... I only wanted to put it off for a while. I thought I would see him after I established my foundation."
Ever since that fierce quarrel after returning from the Xiao family, Li Ximing had never seen his father again. Li Yuanping's heart had been filled with disappointment, stubbornly refusing to take the initiative to see him. Li Ximing, terrified, had dragged his feet day after day to avoid facing his father's countenance. He never imagined that a delay of several years would drag on until his father passed away, without them ever meeting even once.
Now walking through the graveyard, gazing out at the somber expanse of gray gravestones, Li Ximing's face was bathed in tears. He trembled from head to foot, drenched in cold sweat that poured without pause.
Walking all the way to Li Yuanping's stele, with its fresh inscriptions detailing his life's achievements, Li Ximing collapsed weakly to his knees. Beside him, Li Xijun silently began to step back, intending to leave him some time alone, but unexpectedly Li Ximing whimpered:
"...Don't go..."
Li Xijun could only stand quietly in place. Li Ximing seemed more bewildered and fearful than sorrowful, slumped before the stone tablet. He knelt for a long time, until the bright moon rose and rustling raindrops began to fall from the sky. Only then did he shudder in terror.
Scrambling up in frantic haste, Li Ximing looked around wildly, then took to the wind as if fleeing for his life. Stumbling back into his cave abode, he tripped twice over the threshold and fell prone against the stone table.
Upon the table lay a stack of short letters, all left outside his meditation chamber by others during his seclusion. In a haze of confusion, he grabbed one from the pile:
"When will Ximing emerge from seclusion? The family has thirteen varieties of elixirs, and their quantities still require arrangement. If you have a spare moment, please come see me."
The brushstrokes were heavy and deliberate, visibly penned after careful thought. It was signed by his father, Li Yuanping, from roughly half a year ago. Pulling out another slip, it read:
"If Ximing emerges from seclusion, please come see me."
This one was from a more recent date, likely just three months prior. Li Ximing leafed through them one by one. There were fifteen letters in total, each briefer and more urgent than the last.
The final letter was from half a month ago. Li Yuanping had at last ceased addressing him as Li Ximing. His father's handwriting was no longer neat, the strokes crooked and trembling. It read:
"My son, come quickly."
Earlier, Li Ximing's heart had been overwhelmed with numbness and bewilderment, with little grief surfacing. But now, an overwhelming, earth-shattering agony belatedly surged through him. He flung the letter away like lightning and gasped, weeping:
"Father... Father... I was wrong... Father..."
Thunder roared in his mind, and everything before his eyes spun wildly, churning his entire head in blinding agony. Li Ximing trembled violently from fingertips to toes, while the world fell into utter silence.
Thud.
Slowly regaining consciousness, Li Ximing found himself slumped over the tabletop. Reaching out with both arms, he tried to gather all the letters into his embrace, but caught only empty air. With rustling whispers, the paper slips scattered all over the floor. The last one still clung to his cuff, its four small characters bearing a sorrow he could not bear to look upon.
Li Ximing had only lost himself for a fleeting moment; his Foundation Establishment cultivation swiftly restored his clarity. Ashen-faced, he stood blankly where he was.
All along, he had not dared to see his father, only daring to wait for his father to summon him back.
Yet Li Yuanping had been unyielding, holding out stubbornly until the very end. As a result, in the twilight of his father's life—from commanding pretexts to gentle invitations, from repeated pleas to that heartbroken wail with his dying breath—Li Ximing had not heard a single word.
Li Ximing's mind was in utter turmoil. Only today did he finally, belatedly realize—those things he had been afraid to face, he would never have the chance to face again for the rest of his life.
Chapter 429