Departure

Kongheng rode the wind and landed back on Mount Qingdu. Night had completely fallen. Li Xuanxuan was waiting in the great hall, visibly shaken, having not yet recovered from the terrifying phenomenon earlier. Once the two touched down, Li Xuanxuan hurried over to welcome them. Seeing both unharmed, relief and joy surfaced on his face, but as his gaze shifted between them, he noticed Li Ximing's melancholy and Kongheng's conflicted expression. Li Xuanxuan's joy faded. "What is this...?" "Old Master." Kongheng pressed his palms together, bowing respectfully, and said in a gentle voice, "This humble monk must depart to wander through the commanderies... and make my way out of Jiangnan toward other lands." "What?!" Li Xuanxuan stared in shock, anxiously saying, "Could it be that we have wronged you in some way, Kongheng...? All these decades have passed..." Thinking to this point, the old man added in a rush, "That monk Fuxia was spouting all sorts of nonsense—nine times out of ten, he came targeting my family! Kongheng, you needn't take it to heart..." As Li Xuanxuan spoke, Kongheng simply bowed with joined hands and said warmly, "Old Master bears the countenance of good fortune. Though afflicted in your early years, the hurdles ahead are few. It is best to fret less!" Li Xuanxuan had no answer for that and could only nod. Kongheng said softly, "As for Zhouwei's matter, I had already given it thought. Originally, I considered Jueyin spiritual items rare and intended to trouble someone to purchase one overseas. Fortunately, I heard your esteemed clan also obtained a Jueyin magical artifact, which can serve to cast the technique." He retrieved a manuscript from his sleeve and placed it into Li Ximing's hands. The tiny characters on the paper were elegant and distinct, clearly penned stroke by stroke by the monk himself. Kongheng said, "Casting the method in this book will protect the lady and suppress spirituality, preventing the unborn child from being affected by Mingyang." Li Ximing was deeply moved and stowed it away with an affirmative response. Kongheng said apologetically, "However, without me casting the technique in person, gauging the exact degree will be difficult. If the Jueyin is excessive, it will likewise spawn trouble. You must all maintain careful control and proceed with utmost caution." "Understood!" Li Ximing agreed. The monk bowed in farewell to Li Xuanxuan, then stepped outside and headed down along the stone steps. Halfway down the mountain, the stag lay blankly by the roadside, quietly watching them. Kongheng stopped in his tracks and sighed. "He should not have treated you this way." With that, the monk drew the Wondrous White True Jade Demon-Subduing Staff from his sleeve. Beneath the moonlight, this precious artifact had shrunk to a rod the length of a forearm and the thickness of a finger. It gleamed brilliantly, its faint engravings faintly visible. Kongheng sighed. "Now I must make a journey to the north. I ought to return these items to the Northern Demon-Subduing Temple. The Wondrous White True Jade Demon-Subduing Staff and Dark Box Tiger-Striped Cassock are precious, and the relic must be returned to the pagoda." Li Ximing had already guessed Kongheng would say this, and bitterness welled in his heart. *That old bald donkey was shrewd after all. Trapping him through virtue and exhausting every trick, he gave up his very life to force Kongheng to make a trip to the north. Kongheng carries no small weight as an ancient cultivator; while his life might be safe on the road ahead, his lineage will be hard to preserve...* This precious artifact was truly formidable. Merely bringing it out to inspect caused layers of five-colored radiant light to spread across it. Li Ximing looked closely and calculated inwardly: *This item is by no means at the Foundation Establishment level—it is at least on par with a Violet Palace spiritual artifact. And three of them in a row, he truly spared no expense.* Kongheng held the artifact and tapped it gently upon the stag's head. "Your sins do not warrant this. It is time for release." The deer let out a whimper and thrashed on the ground. Its fur drifted down like windblown autumn leaves, bursting into a bloody mess of red as a man rolled out from within. Covered in deer blood, his expression dazed, he bowed and answered, "Thank you, Master." Kongheng draped a garment over him and said softly, "The dead cannot return to life. Restrain your grief and accept what has come." The man lowered his gaze, looking lost, and murmured, "This lowly one has known only hardship from youth, plagued constantly by hunger and cold. By adulthood, I had nothing to my name. My wife married me from a thousand li away, and we shared life's bitters together. Now that she has died unjustly, this lowly one has nothing left to live for..." Kongheng looked down at him. As his Telepathic Penetration operated, he sensed that this man already harbored a desire to die, and turned his head aside. *Had I agreed to become the Manifestation Emperor Kshetra back then and gathered the karmic ties, not only could he have fulfilled his destiny as a stag-bodied Arhat, but his wife might also have departed for the Pure Land.* Fortunately, the man before him was from Jiangnan, not a commoner of Zhao. If he had known a bit about Buddhist teachings, he might have blamed Kongheng. Having been harmed by a monk and now saved by a monk, only bewilderment filled his eyes. Kongheng sighed softly and said gently, "Why not accompany me north, and put your questions to the Northern Demon-Subduing Temple?" The man was taken aback. A flicker of resentment surfaced, and he nodded. His black hair shed all at once with a soft rustle. Slipping on the monastic robe draped over him, he silently followed behind Kongheng. Li Ximing nodded at the sight, accompanying them all the way to the lakeshore. The night was thick, the shore quiet and deserted, with only the crunching sound of their footsteps on the lakeside. "Ximing, seeing me off this far is enough." Kongheng pressed his palms together, bidding him to return. Li Ximing stopped in his tracks, quietly looking at him, and suddenly realized: *Once Kongheng leaves, of those from my generation of old, only I remain.* He said softly, "In years to come, if Master happens to pass by Lake Wangyue and stops to rest, it would be wonderful if I am here to receive you. But perhaps Ximing will have already failed and perished, the people and scenery altered, and this place no longer bearing the surname Li." Li Ximing suddenly smiled. The youth's usually uneasy demeanor shifted, and he said with ease, "When that day comes, Master, please do not deliver my soul. Let me die thoroughly." "Ximing would have no face to meet the ancestors, fathers, brothers, and seniors of past generations." Kongheng pressed his hands together in a prayer, sighed without speaking, and took his leave. Li Ximing watched the two drift farther and farther into the distance beneath the moonlight until they vanished into the northern woods. Only then did he ride the wind back to the mountain. Cultivating the Treasure Steps was so slow that it infuriated Li Ximing. Coming out of seclusion this time had not interrupted much; after all, his progress had been minimal—upon careful calculation, he had only mastered ten or twenty percent of it. *I fear even ten years won't be enough.* He landed back on the peak, his mind heavy with thoughts. ... East Sea. Palaces stood in clusters upon the back of the Bishui scale beast, leaving an open expanse beside which stood a high platform. Bathed in azure blue, three jade tables were set out, with Dingjiao seated high at the head. Below, two water beasts were locked in a fight to the death. One was a thick-scaled, long-tusked water elephant with snow-white scales and sharp tusks; the other was a long-tailed, one-horned viper, the solitary horn at its brow radiant with light. The radiance glowed a pale blue, illuminating the area before it in a hazy mist. The thick-scaled, long-tusked water elephant rolled over and over, blood gushing like a spring from its eyes, running down its scales, and turning into rolling pearls upon hitting the floor. "Minghuang!" Dingjiao's majestic, clear voice drew Li Zhouwei's gaze back. The dragon prince leaned against a jade-and-coral throne, the armrests flanked by two hook snake heads as white and bright as jade. "What do you think of this profound light?" Li Zhouwei set down the jade cup in his hand and nodded. "Though this Changyan Water-Harmonizing Profound Light is of the fourth rank, it possesses ample variation yet lacks lethal force. Its varied transformations are enough to dazzle an enemy, but without killing power, in a duel it remains vulnerable against an adversary skilled in defense." His words earned a nod from Dingjiao. Down below, the two rare beasts fought life and death; the dragon prince watched casually with pale-blue eyes, sipping his wine idly as though his mind were elsewhere. Li Zhouwei had already stayed in the palace for quite some time. The Bishui scale beast had galloped along, making a full tour around the Zhulu Sea. Having grown weary of singing and dancing, Dingjiao ordered water beasts onto the stage to fight. Li Zhouwei had listened to the explanations from the minor monsters beside him. One of the two water beasts was a Baolin crossing beast, and the other was a green-necked flood dragon... Neither was an ordinary demon; either one, taken out alone, was a creature capable of terrorizing an entire stretch of water. Yet his own Wushao wouldn't even have a chance to step onto the stage in the East Sea; at the very least, it would take something like the white-scaled hook snake of Lan Ying from adjacent valleys back then, or the Quandan water ape of the Heshui Sea, to have such an opportunity. *Yet before the dragon race, they are nothing more than playthings.* Li Zhouwei watched for a moment. As the Changyan Water-Harmonizing Profound Light gradually waned, the Baolin crossing beast began its counterattack. Rare as it was for Li Zhouwei to witness such monsters fighting, he appeared quite interested on the surface, but inwardly he mused: *I wonder how things have unfolded back at the lake, for them to keep me here so long...* Originally, once affairs in the South Sea were concluded, he could have left long ago. Yet Dingjiao and Bai Rong dragged him along for a tour of the sea. Throughout the journey, there was nothing worth mentioning; they simply wanted him to return later. Though worried at heart, Li Zhouwei was powerless to change it, so he settled down. As he pondered, he noticed a monster hurrying up the palace corridor: clad in silver armor, with a golden face and silver fangs, carrying two pairs of short halberds on his back—clearly no ordinary being. The monster walked all the way up beside Dingjiao's elevated seat and seemed to transmit a message with a secret art. Dongfang Dingjiao's hand holding the jade cup froze midair, though his expression showed no change. Before long, the monster general bowed and departed. Dongfang Dingjiao returned to normal. On the opposite side, Bai Rong was visibly weary as well; after listening for a while, he finally rose and said with a smile: "Our conversation this time has been most delightful, but I cannot be away from my peak for too long, so I shall disturb Your Highness no further..." Dingjiao rose, exchanged a few polite words, and escorted them out of the hall, walking with the two through the corridor. The two monster generals were still fighting for their lives, blood splattering and turning into pearls in midair before rolling to Dingjiao's feet, yet no one spared them a glance. Dingjiao saw them off and returned alone to the platform, where the smile vanished from his face. The news brought by the silver-armored monster general earlier was clearly not good. Dingjiao had merely maintained his composure, chatting and laughing naturally before his guests. But the moment the two departed, his expression darkened instantly. The dragon prince's white horns glowed faintly. He watched in silence, leaning against the azure railing and looking down upon the two monster generals—beings standing above ten thousand monsters—slaughtering each other. Though the esteemed guests had left, Dingjiao had not spoken a word, so neither beast dared slacken in the slightest. They fought until scales shattered and horn bones broke, the floor covered in dripping blood and rolling pearls. Dingjiao remained silent, his pale-blue eyes narrowing. A suffocating pressure hung over the hall. Anyone with eyes could tell this White Dragon Prince was in a terrible mood; the guards on either side began to tremble, not daring to lift their heads. After a quarter of an hour, the monster general with bulging gills and black armor finally could bear it no longer. He knelt tremblingly and said respectfully, "Your Highness, the Dragon Lord's birthday has just passed. It might be inauspicious for noble breeds to die in gladiatorial combat..." The monster general with bulging gills and black armor was named Ranwu. Having served by Dingjiao's side for years, he was no ordinary retainer. With Dingjiao in a fury, he was the only one in the hall who dared speak. Dingjiao did not answer him. With a somber face, he turned and stepped into the inner palace, and the palace doors slammed shut behind him with a crash. Feeling as though granted amnesty, the monster general, terrified, made no sound and waved his hands frantically. The two beasts below hurriedly halted, kowtowed several times toward the hall, and scrambled away on all fours. Outside the hall was joyous relief, but within, no one else was present—only a gloomy, silent chill and flickering, dim lanterns. Dingjiao walked all the way up to his throne, violently flicked his sleeve, and swept a cluster of jade pots and cups crashing to the floor with a sharp clatter. Dingjiao's face elongated abruptly, revealing sharp, stark-white fangs from his mouth. Snow-white dragon whiskers sprouted from both sides of his neck, and the color in his eyes deepened intensely. The tables throughout the hall rattled and shook incessantly. "Luo... Xia... Mountain!" He ground his teeth, his voice thundering, yet trapped within the hall, unable to escape, vibrating everything into motion. ... The two emerged above the sea's surface. The Bishui scale beast had already halted in the shallows. Bai Rong's departure was evidently not without reason; he brought out his two-wheeled cart, collapsed onto it with an "Ouch," and sighed: "Ah, I'm truly exhausted to death!" The composure and elegance on Bai Rong were cast to the winds in an instant as he reverted to his usual indolent self. Dangling his feet outside the cart, he refused even to pilot the artifact, groaning and sighing away. Having stayed beneath the sea for so long, Li Zhouwei smelled the fresh sea breeze once more, feeling much more at ease. Since Bai Rong went on strike, Li Zhouwei had no choice but to pilot the artifact himself, steering it westward on the journey back. Bai Rong lay prone for a while and only gradually recovered once they drove to the edge of the Salt Lake. Calling out for Li Zhouwei to be careful and drive slowly, he chuckled, "The dragon race's life is just this dull, unable to wander into human territory... No matter what antics monsters in the sea get up to, how could it ever match the variety humans come up with? That gladiatorial drama... humans grew bored of it back in the Zhou Dynasty! It bored me half to death." Li Zhouwei gave an affirmative hum, voiced a couple compliments for Dingjiao, and asked softly, "Along the way here, quite a few things must have happened over my family's lake. Does Senior have any news?" Worried about his home, Li Zhouwei had been rushing back at top speed, only to be held back by Bai Rong. Presuming that the issues over the lake were not severe, he took the opportunity to question the fox. Bai Rong paused, then laughed. "It's nothing much really. A Wrathful Lianmin seized the opportunity to sneak over, coming to drive your monk away. If you had still been on the lake, the various cultivators would have gladly seen your true depth." The fox did not mince words with him either. Looking up toward the distant seascape, he said in a calm tone: "You must know that Mingyang isn't simply about Shakya cultivators trampling down immortal palaces and dynasties; there was also a Shakya cultivator of Mingyang—Bright King Shengming Jin!" "If that monk had truly surrendered to the path of Wrathful Manifestation, with the karmic affinity laid out before him and you present on the lake, nine times out of ten he could have replicated past events, dragging you, this white qilin, into the Pure Land... making you Bright King Shengming Jin and taking you off to the north!" "Oh?" Kongheng's image flashed through Li Zhouwei's mind. Bai Rong shook his head with a chuckle. "It's just that even a Maha couldn't persuade him, let alone a Lianmin. I told you long ago it was just minor trouble. First, there was no need to blindly get involved; second, it was to guard against any contingency." Li Zhouwei thanked him in a low voice and said thoughtfully, "So Shakya cultivators can also cultivate Mingyang..." "'Mingyang' is originally a status and fruit of heaven and earth; it makes no distinction between Immortal, Shakya, demon, or monster!" Bai Rong rolled over to make himself more comfortable, saying offhandedly, "Bright King Shengming Jin was originally a Shakya method. Suxikong seized 'Huaqi', and from then on, radiant light abounded in the Shakya lands, giving Shakya cultivators precious artifacts to use. If they could get their hands on 'Mingyang'... wouldn't that be magnificent?"