When Lu Jiangxian was placed back onto the stone altar, he silently swept his divine sense across the courtyard. Watching Li Mutian shuffle slowly into the yard, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes and gasped for breath, a surge of emotion suddenly stirred within him.
*Has it really been so long?*
On the day Li Xiangping retrieved the magical mirror from the river, Li Mutian had been a solemn clan head, weathered yet full of strength. Now, he was an old man over seventy, so frail he could barely walk.
Since crossing over into this world, Lu Jiangxian had spent most of his time drifting in and out of dreams within the mirror. Nearly twenty years had passed in a blur, yet to his perception, it felt like scarcely a month. The Li family had firmly established their footing and become a burgeoning clan of cultivation.
Yet the Li Mutian before him was wasting away by the day. It was as though the family's rapid ascent had been conjured by the very last breath in his chest—a breath that had now reached the end of its life.
Under Lu Jiangxian's divine inspection, Li Mutian's life force was visibly ebbing away. He would not survive the coming days.
Li Mutian, however, leaned calmly beside the door. His normally austere expression softened with a faint smile as he watched young Li Xuanfeng chattering away with a bow in hand. His throat bobbed slightly. Having not made a single request in over a decade, he issued his first order.
Li Mutian said, "Your granddad wants some mutton rice noodles."
Li Xuanfeng froze in surprise. Then he heard Li Mutian speak again:
"Your grandfather truly craves a bowl of mutton rice noodles."
Li Xuanfeng gave a hasty reply and bolted out without looking back. His grandfather's peculiar manner of speaking cast a heavy shadow of dread over his heart. His words had not sounded like a command, but rather carried a plea, sending a chill through the boy's perceptive mind.
"Grandfather wants mutton rice noodles!"
Li Xuanfeng's cry caught Lady Ren off guard. Seeing the tears streaming down the child's face, she hurried to summon the other women of the household, then patted Xuanfeng on the shoulder, whispering with grave urgency, "Quick, go call your father back!"
***
A steaming bowl of mutton rice noodles was sprinkled with chopped scallions, its crystal-clear noodles glistening with droplets of oil. The rich, appetizing fragrance drifted through the air. The noodles were served neatly on the wooden table in a porcelain bowl that bore a tiny chip on its rim, a pair of wooden chopsticks resting beside it.
Li Mutian had used that bowl for thirty-one years. The chip had been made by a young Li Xiangping, an offense for which the boy had taken a sound thrashing, howling in pain and skirting around Li Mutian for days.
Li Mutian shuffled slowly to his seat. Trembling, he picked up a mouthful with his chopsticks. The tender, hot, and sour noodles paired with the rich mutton broth made his limbs shake, and the familiar taste brought him to sudden, helpless tears, stirring the memory of the bowl of mutton rice noodles his own father, Li Genshui, had once cooked for him with his own hands.
That bowl had been far less delicious than this one—sparing on the vinegar, heavy on the chili, and short on broth. Yet both his mother and Li Mutian had known his father was apologizing. Even so, he had smashed the bowl and stormed out of the house, staying away for twenty-eight years.
Li Mutian had cursed his father for being indecisive and bringing ruin upon the whole family, while Li Genshui had reviled his son as an ungrateful beast, a monster born of his wife's coupling with a wolf. Li Mutian had drawn his blade and pointed it at his father, watching as Li Genshui turned purple with rage, tears streaking his weathered face.
When Li Mutian finally returned twenty-eight years later, his father had indeed died at the hands of the Yuan family. With a cold sneer, Li Mutian laid the severed heads of the entire Yuan family before his father's grave. He divided the lands with an impassive face, yet when waking in the dead of night, he would often find his pillow soaked with tears.
These memories drifted through Li Mutian's mind for only a dozen breaths, for he had swallowed just a single mouthful of noodles before collapsing straight backward.
Li Mutian felt as if a burning coal had been driven into his chest, searing his flesh until it hissed and crackled. A flurry of steel blades seemed to churn within his belly, sending agonizing spasms of pain from head to toe.
The burning coal leaped from his chest and surged into his mouth. His tongue and throat went parched and dry. His hands and feet stiffened into iron, turning so rigid that the circle of women around him could not even lift him from the ground.
"Grandfather! Grandfather!"
Li Mutian could faintly hear the muffled sobs of Li Xuanling. The boy was Li Tongya's eldest son. Though only five years old, he was remarkably composed, the spitting image of Ya'er in his youth.
Li Mutian grew frantic. He strained with his tongue, desperate to make a sound to prove he was all right, but all that came out were a few ragged whines like the whimpering of a dying dog.
"Carry him to the bed! Move him to the bed!"
Lady Ren cried out through her tears. Having buried her own father, Ren Ping'an, only a few years prior, she knew all too well that the old man was slipping away. Knowing he could not be left to die on the cold, hard floor, she frantically urged the others to help lift him up.
"Where is Mother?" Tian Yun asked in a rush.
Only then did they remember that Li Mutian's wife, their matriarch Lady Liu, had gone down the mountain not long ago to visit her maiden home.
In flustered disarray, they hauled the stiffened Li Mutian onto the bed. In the rear courtyard, Lu Jiangxian watched with a heavy heart. He promptly cast a Heart-Calming Incantation and released a strand of moon essence to preserve the old man's fading spark of life. Only when he saw Li Xiangping and the others rushing up the mountain did he finally withdraw his power.
*His time has come.*
Lu Jiangxian sensed Li Mutian's breath growing ever weaker. Li Xiangping and Li Tongya finally burst into the courtyard, followed closely by a tearful Li Xuanfeng.
His face etched with worry, Li Tongya grasped Li Mutian's hand and gently channeled his peak Embryonic Breathing magic power into the old man's body. Li Mutian shuddered, let out a long, deep breath, and finally opened his eyes.
"Xiangping... Tongya..."
Li Mutian murmured softly, his gaze wandering across the faces gathered around him. His lips parted and closed, whispering in an exceedingly faint voice.
Weeping, Li Tongya leaned down close, catching Li Mutian's breathless murmur:
"The Chen, Tian, and Liu families... have deep roots in the village. Recall their entire clans to Lijing Village and elevate the village to a town... so they cannot grow too powerful in the outlying lands..."
"Father... please rest. You can tell us once you feel better..." Li Xiangping choked out, trying to soothe him.
Li Mutian looked at him and shook his head, forcing the words out with all his remaining might:
"The Li clan's descendants have many reckless and arrogant souls. You must appoint a clan rector to keep them in check... Establish the four direct lineages as the primary branch, the other Li kin as the secondary branches, and those further out as collateral lines. Manage the promotions and demotions among them as you see fit..."
"Xuanxuan can manage the household, but he needs your protection. Xuanfeng is wild and brilliant, but you must keep him from indulging in wanton slaughter. Xuanling is steady and calm; he will accomplish great things... Jingtian... is gifted with beauty... beware of disaster falling upon her... The threat of the Shanyue is far graver... be careful, be exceedingly careful!"
Li Mutian's voice grew fainter and fainter. Li Xiangping drew near with tear-filled eyes, only for the old man's hand to suddenly shoot out and clamp around his wrist. The strength was astonishing for a dying man. A fierce glint flared in his dimming eyes, and his body twisted on the bed as his voice abruptly surged, his teeth gritted tight:
"If it comes to it... all four villages and every scrap of land can be abandoned... Do not follow the path of the Wan family... As long as even one child of our Li clan escapes... they will... see it... through..."
Tears poured down Li Xiangping's cheeks, and he replied fiercely, "Father... I will remember every word!"
Only then did Li Mutian's grip abruptly slacken as he breathed his last. The room erupted into wailing and lamentation, while the old man's gaze remained fixed upon the bowl of mutton rice noodles sitting on the nearby table.
The broth was rich, the aroma hot and sour, and steam was still rising from the bowl.
Chapter 82