Five years later.
The morning sun pierced through the dense layers of mountain mist, spilling through the gaps in the branches and leaves to cast shards of pale gold across the ground.
The Li family had farmed by the shores of Lake Wangyue for another five years. Sixteen or seventeen years had now passed since they found the mirror. The stone-paved path up Mount Lijing was gradually turning green with moss, and birds chattered in the treetops—a scene of renewed life.
Yet Old Man Xu sat blankly beside a moss-covered headstone. His hunched frame matched the cold stele, and his withered, yellow hand clutched a fistful of dirt.
"Why hasn't this old man... died yet?"
A few years ago, Old Man Xu had climbed Mount Lijing, insisting that he wanted to watch over the Li family's cemetery. Unable to dissuade him, Li Xiangping and the others had let him have his way.
Li Xuanxuan had built a small cabin for him beside the cemetery on Mount Lijing and often brought supplies to visit. Old Man Xu knew parlor tricks, could weave crickets out of grass, and could even draw a little. The Li children ran to the cabin every few days. Without playmates his own age on the mountain and with a busy father, Li Xuanfeng had grown up playing with Old Man Xu over these past years.
Old Man Xu smiled and played with the children, but in secret, he was waiting for death. Every night as he drifted off to sleep, he would think, *I ought to die tomorrow, right?* Yet the next day, he would wake as usual, and the sun would still rise.
Just yesterday, stumbling and dragging his feet, Old Man Xu had reached the age of eighty.
"Damn it, how can someone live to eighty and still not die?"
Squinting, Old Man Xu looked toward the distant hillside. Under the golden sunlight, a small figure waved from the slope, cast into a long shadow by the rays.
"Xuanfeng's come to see you—Grandpa—Xu—!"
The boy was filthy, mud splattered across his face, and strands of unkempt hair fell in loose locks. He looked somewhat dashing, carrying even a hint of wild, unruly flair. In his hands, he held a small wooden bow, and a tiny quiver was tied to his waist.
The boy came skipping down the sun-drenched slope, while Old Man Xu huddled in his dim corner, clinging to his dying breath. In that moment, the two seemed like opposite poles of the world: new life and fading mortality meeting midway up Mount Lijing.
"Is that Xuanxuan?"
Old Man Xu’s mind cleared slightly. Lifting his head, he spoke with a stumble in his words.
"Grandpa Xu, I'm Li Xuanfeng! My father is Li Xiangping, not Li Changhu."
Li Xuanfeng gave a giggle. Untying the cord on his shorts, he found a headstone beside the old man that reached about his height, and began humming a tune as he took a leak.
Just as he was finishing and getting ready to pull up his shorts, Old Man Xu's eyes widened. Struggling to lift his cane, he delivered a sharp *smack* across Li Xuanfeng's rear and cursed:
"Damn you! That's your great-grandfather's grave!"
Li Xuanfeng stumbled, gave a petulant shake, and pulled up his shorts, tying the cord with a face full of defiance.
"He's already dead! Why can't I pee there? How did he die, anyway?"
"Poisoned."
The scuffle seemed to restore some vigor to Old Man Xu. He forced himself upright and began to recount slowly:
"Many years ago, your Li family wasn't as formidable as it is now. There was a wealthy clan called the Yuan family. They poisoned your great-grandfather and your granduncle, wanting to swallow up your land.
"Later, your grandfather came back with a saber and slaughtered the Yuan family down to the last soul. Then he took their land and handed it out instead."
Li Xuanfeng propped himself up with his small hands and perched atop a modest, moss-grown headstone. Grinning, he cried out:
"Well killed!"
Old Man Xu glared at him before continuing:
"What's 'well killed' about it? The Yuan family... one child escaped. Twenty-two years later, he came back and killed your eldest uncle!"
"Huh?!"
Li Xuanfeng's eyes narrowed sharply, his long, delicate eyelashes twitching above his brow. He cursed:
"It's all Grandfather's fault for not finishing the job properly! If he'd wiped out the whole family cleanly, how could one have gotten away?"
Old Man Xu stared at him blankly, murmuring:
"What a wicked seed! You Li men are rotten right from childhood."
Li Xuanfeng shook his head indignantly and shouted:
"Why should the Yuan family get to kill Li men? If they left one of ours alive, they had to wait for our family to slaughter them all. If our family left one of their brats alive, we had to wait for him to come seeking revenge! What's the point of arguing about good and bad?"
Old Man Xu shook his head as well, his voice heavy.
"When will vengeance ever end..."
"If your hands are clumsy, of course it'll never end! But if you wipe out their whole clan, who's left to take revenge?"
Li Xuanfeng spat the words, disdain plastered across his youthful face, sounding nothing like a boy of seven or eight.
Old Man Xu coughed twice and chuckled bitterly at himself.
"This old man has seen too much death, so I fear killing. I'm not even as decisive as a child like you."
"Grandpa Xu."
Li Xuanfeng stood earnestly beside him and said:
"Sheep eat grass, wolves eat sheep, humans eat meat, and monsters eat humans. Everything in the world is just eating or being eaten.
"That's what my father says."
Straightening his back, he put on a solemn look, feigning the gravity of an elder as he intoned:
"Feng'er! This world has always been a realm of great contention!"
With that, he burst into laughter and rolled across the ground, coaxing Old Man Xu into coughing and laughing alongside him.
After laughing for a while, Old Man Xu spoke slowly:
"Once upon a time, there was a household living on the edge of a village. The father tilled the fields diligently, and the mother took good care of their three sons.
"One day, the father saw smoke and fire rising from the neighboring village. He sent his youngest son, Xu San, up the mountain to gather firewood. Xu San went up happily and played wildly until evening before returning.
"The moment he got home, Xu San saw blood everywhere. Over a dozen men were sitting in a circle in his courtyard around a large iron cauldron. Inside the cauldron were his parents, and his two older brothers had already been carved clean, stacked in two heaps.
"Xu San was scared out of his wits. He turned and ran, hiding in the mountains for ten whole days. Later on, he heard that the neighboring village had suffered a great drought. The villagers were starving and driven to desperation, and because his house was far from the village, they suffered this calamity."
Li Xuanfeng listened intently, his face cold as he muttered in a low voice:
"I would have killed them all."
"But Xu San was a coward. A coward for his entire life! He didn't dare say a word. He hid in the village his whole life. Xu San hated them, but Xu San hated that giant bird even more—and hated those immortals!"
Old Man Xu cried out in a daze. Reaching out, he pulled Li Xuanfeng close, his voice hurried and hushed:
"Xu San saw two servants relieving themselves in the mountains. They said... they said... they lured that giant bird to Mount Dali to feed on humans just to harvest the dark qi from its flames so the Tangjin Sect's young master could cultivate Qi Refinement! Xu San heard it clearly! Xu San shrank back for decades, never daring to speak.
"Xu San, Xu San... ugh... dead. All dead."
Old Man Xu gasped for breath, his eyes bloodshot, and coughed up sputters of bloody foam. His head tilted, and he slumped to the ground. The withered, yellow hand clutching Li Xuanfeng's trouser leg finally went slack.
Li Xuanfeng stared at him blankly. Only after a long while did he speak:
"Xu San, you're dead too."
Warm tears streamed down his face, dripping onto Old Man Xu's cold, stiffening body. Li Xuanfeng let out a few whimpers, threw himself over the old man's corpse, and wailed bitterly—crying until his head spun, weeping with helpless fury.
Chapter 64