Chapter 43
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Qi Wuhuo’s departure wasn’t much of an event.
It was only when Li Puyu came to pay a New Year’s visit and found the boy absent that he felt a pang of disappointment. Butcher Zhang, who had prepared a red envelope with five big coins as New Year’s money, didn’t get the chance to give it. Life carried on as usual—sunrise and sunset, people coming and going, the lively bustle of daily life. After all, what’s the significance of the departure of a young outsider, born of humble origins and clueless about social proprieties?
The real event, in truth, was the Mountain God——
The Mountain God Temple had been completed.
Drums and gongs accompanied its inauguration, and at first, people visited enthusiastically. They were so eager that it seemed their first task upon waking was to climb the mountain and pay their respects. Over time, however, fewer people came. Eventually, those who had hoped the temple would bring them fortune—perhaps sons with scholarly brilliance or miraculous wealth—found their wishes unfulfilled. Attendance dwindled until, at last, the temple was nearly abandoned.
Only the occasional woodcutter sought shelter from the rain.
From time to time, wild beasts would pass by, and occasionally, snakes would climb the beams and pillars. Light filtered through, and dust swirled, embodying a sense of unrestrained naturalness.
The Mountain God Temple was filled with an almost intoxicatingly rich fragrance from the burning incense when suddenly a voice rang out:
“Ah, ah, ah, how could this possibly be the Mountain God? Why is the statue sculpted in such a way?”
It was the deer spirit, lifting its head to look at the statue with a face full of displeasure.
Its tail swished back and forth in irritation.
The statue looked nothing like the original tiger nor like the later youth!
Instead, it was the common, bloated depiction of a laughing, big-bellied deity. It gazed down the mountain with a grin, as if endlessly amused—but amused by what, no one could say.
On the deer spirit’s back, the little person formed from the Huangjing raised its tiny hands, babbling in protest.
Finally, the Huangjing leaped off the spirit deer’s back, directly burrowing into the ground, and entered the interior of the Mountain God statue, instantly causing the statue’s appearance to change.
More than a month later, Mr. Su’s family returned to the town. Miss Su Yue’er seemed particularly interested in the stories about immortals. After hearing about the Mountain God, she invited the young man from the Cui family, a distant relative, to go up the mountain together. Laughing, she said: “Before I came here, I had never heard of the Mountain God showing signs of divine presence on Helian Mountain.”
“This time, I have to see it for myself.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Giggle, that pair of couplets we saw at the Daoist sect’s mountain gate really startled Puyu and the others!”
“Opportunities like this—true immortal fates—aren’t something you encounter casually.”
Snow continued to fall in the mountains, soft and unceasing. A girl in a red dress stepped carefully across the snow, her winter boots crunching softly with each step. She reached the Mountain God Temple, which had long since lost its earlier bustle. The inconvenience of reaching this place and the lack of any divine miracles had left it largely abandoned. Still smiling, she picked up a stick of incense and entered the temple. Lifting her gaze to the altar, her laughter abruptly stopped.
“What’s wrong, Yue’er?”
The young man from the Cui family, puzzled, raised his head and saw the red-clad girl’s almond-shaped eyes wide open in a dazed, entranced state. He, too, was momentarily stunned when he looked at the Mountain God Temple. The stone statue was unexpectedly that of a young man with a gentle expression and bright, clear brows. Although the temple was simple and unadorned, the statue possessed an extraordinary lifelike quality, as if the young man might step down from the stone platform at any moment, speaking with a smile.
Although people seldom came anymore, the fruits of the four seasons never ceased, as if offerings were still being made by other living beings.
Su Yue’er stood there, dazed. “Qi Wuhuo…”
She abruptly turned and ran, her steps hurried. The young man behind her called out, but she didn’t stop. Biting her lip, she rushed down the mountain path, through bustling streets and muddy alleys, until she reached a familiar courtyard. There, she halted, panting heavily, and tried to push open the gate, but it didn’t budge. What she saw before her was as it always had been: the wooden doors closed, the house unchanged.
It was as if the boy might step out at any moment, opening the door from within. But it was only an illusion.
On the stone table sat the scabbard of a sword.
Only one plum blossom tree, though spring had already arrived, continued to bloom profusely. Its fragrance was subtle yet far-reaching, a marvelous and unparalleled sight.
Amidst the chaos of the mortal world, this place alone remained serene.
Su Yue’er stood silently, dazed and lost in thought.
The wind blew by, and a flower fell onto the sword sheath.
Beyond this, there was nothing else.
That was all.
She reached out and placed her hand on the wooden door, suddenly overcome with a feeling of melancholy, as if something was lost. In a low murmur, she whispered:
“Qi Wuhuo…”
Qi Wuhuo and the elder left the town behind. He had expected to travel a great distance, yet every step he took felt as though he had already traversed an unimaginable span. The scenery shifted behind them, but it seemed as if nothing had truly changed. There was an uncanny similarity to the divine abilities Qi Wuhuo had utilized during his lecture, where he used the Mountain God’s Talisman, yet upon closer thought, it was entirely different.
They walked on, and in what felt like the time it took to drink a cup of tea to Qi Wuhuo, the elder finally stopped.
Qi Wuhuo exhaled softly. The air carried a dampness, the kind that heralded an impending rainstorm.
In the distance, he could hear a thunderous roar.
He asked: “Is it about to thunder?”
The old man burst into laughter. “Hahaha, no, no. Follow me and see.”
The elder led Qi Wuhuo forward a few more steps, stopping atop a rocky ledge. From there, they looked down, and what Qi Wuhuo saw took his breath away—a vast expanse of surging, azure waves stretching to the horizon, seemingly boundless and infinite. The water spanned all directions, its reach unknowable. One wave after another surged forward, crashing into each other with a thunderous roar, their collisions resonating like unending peals of thunder.
Stunned by the scene, Qi Wuhuo asked: “This is…”
“Is this the sea?”
“The sea?”
The old man shook his head. “No, this can only be regarded as a river.”
“A river?!” The boy stared in astonishment.
The elder rested a hand gently on his head, smiling warmly. “There are many wondrous methods and marvels in this world. In time, you will see them for yourself.”
He then led Qi Wuhuo down to the riverbank. The sight became even more overwhelming as they approached. The tumultuous waves surged and swelled, each cresting like a small mountain. To attempt to cross them by boat seemed impossible—perhaps even flight might not suffice. From atop the mountain, the river had appeared as though it sought to merge with the heavens. But standing at its edge, the sheer majesty and oppressive power of the water became vividly clear, leaving an indelible impression.
Qi Wuhuo asked, “Old Sir, the person you mentioned—do they live nearby?”
The old man smiled and shook his head. “They should be on an island within this river.”
Qi Wuhuo looked out at the mighty river. “An island in such a turbulent current?”
The old man chuckled. “Indeed.”
Qi Wuhuo asked: “But with water this swift, how are we to cross the river?”
The old man stroked his beard with a smile. “Why, by boat, of course.”
“A boat?”
Qi Wuhuo looked around. With waves and winds this fierce, there was no way any boat could traverse these waters. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Qi Wuhuo went searching for a boat, but when he returned, his hands were empty. There were no signs of human activity, let alone habitation. All that remained were a few scattered seashells and a handful of slender twigs—thinner than Qi Wuhuo’s fingers—washed up from who knows where.
Qi Wuhuo said regretfully: “There’s no boat… I only found these small branches. Even if we wanted to build a boat, it wouldn’t be possible.”
The old man shook his head, laughing lightly. “Ah, so you went looking for wood to see if you could build a boat?”
“Well, well, since you’ve brought these.”
“Let’s use this as our ‘boat’.”
Qi Wuhuo froze, watching as the old man casually picked up one of the slender twigs.
With a flick of his finger, a slender branch fell onto the sea’s surface. Though the waves surged violently, they didn’t carry the branch away. Suddenly, the branch grew larger, and in an instant, it transformed into a massive beam spanning the turbulent waters. Upon it, a pavilion arose—ornate, intricately carved, and elegant. In the blink of an eye, it became a magnificent towering ship. The old man stroked his beard and smiled, saying: “Isn’t this a boat?”
“Now then, I must thank you, Wuhuo, for finding the material. Come, come, get on aboard.”
The elder stepped aboard with a casual stride, as though it were the most ordinary thing. Qi Wuhuo followed, running his hand along the massive ship’s surface. Its texture was smooth and calm, undeniably real, not an illusion. He instinctively asked: “What kind of divine art is this?”
The old man replied: “To deconstruct all things and reshape them into treasures, to reverse the workings of creation, to inscribe runes and craft talismans—this is the art of refining artifacts.”
Then he shook his head dismissively and said: “But it’s merely working with what already exists.”
“It’s all in vain”
“Wuhuo, your focus should remain on pill refining. Don’t let yourself be captivated by such things.”
Suddenly, without any visible movement, a great wind rose, and the ship cut through the towering waves, sailing smoothly forward. Qi Wuhuo stood at the bow of the ship, gazing at the vast, boundless world. His heart involuntarily opened, and as the wind blew past, the hem of his blue robe fluttered behind him. He appeared like an ordinary commoner, his black hair tied back with a grass rope, not disheveled or impolite. Yet, as the wind blew, his hair was gently pushed back, offering a fleeting moment of wildness.
The elder, stroking his beard with a smile, said: “Now that your heart feels unburdened, Wuhuo, why not sit in meditation and refine your Primordial Qi?”
“Yes.”
Qi Wuhuo, suppressing the exhilaration inspired by the scenery, sat cross-legged at the bow of the ship. Facing the rolling waves, he calmed his breath and began refining his Primordial Qi.
Although the wind and waves were fierce, and the sound of the waves was as thunderous as a storm.
Yet he was still able to calm his mind and meditate as usual.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when the ship eventually slowed and stopped, it was about midday. Opening his eyes, he saw an island before him. To his surprise, it resembled a scene from spring, its scenery breathtakingly beautiful. Neatly arranged houses stood atop it—not grand or opulent, but reminiscent of the homes of modestly wealthy families.
The land was crisscrossed with orderly fields, and the sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard.
Qi Wuhuo noticed a man leading a large yellow ox, plowing the fertile fields.
As the big ship docked, the elder led Qi Wuhuo ashore.
Even more so, he felt amazed that such fine crops could still exist in this world. The man seemed to have noticed the old man’s arrival, and quickly came over, intending to salute. However, the old man raised his hand, halting his movement, and with a slight press of his palm, he smiled and said: “No need for formalities.”
What made Qi Wuhuo curious was that the big ox also came over and nodded in salute.
The man glanced at Qi Wuhuo, smiling as he said, “You mentioned you’d be coming, so we’ve spent several days preparing for your arrival. Is this young one your attendant?”
The elder replied, “No.”
His smile softened, taking on a more solemn air. In a tone both warm and serious, he said:
“I have [recorded his name].”
“Wuhuo, pay your respects.”
?!!!
Both the man and the yellow ox froze, their expressions shifting visibly, betraying their astonishment.
