Chapter 51

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Qi Wuhuo raised his gaze to the [Path Enlightenment Hall] and nodded.

The elder lightly patted his shoulder, and flowing energy enveloped him, concealing both his presence and aura.

Heaven and earth veiled him; all beings obscured their forms.

Thus, his three souls receded into the Niwan Palace, and his essence and energy returned to chaos.

Even the Divine General of the Heavenly Realm, Thousand-Mile Eye, could not catch a glimpse of his trace; nor could the Truth-Hearing Beast of the Underworld hear the faintest sound of him.

The elder then handed the whisk in his hand to Qi Wuhuo and said with a smile: “I will not be going in.”

Qi Wuhuo bowed respectfully and quietly entered the [Path Enlightenment Hall]. The place was bustling with people, yet none noticed him. Under the shade of tall pines and cypresses, he saw a Daoist seated on a three-foot-high platform. Above the Daoist’s head was a ten-feathered crane canopy, and his breath was long and mysterious. Holding a jade ruyi, he was expounding on many profound and wondrous Daoist methods.

Qi Wuhuo pondered for a moment but chose not to reveal himself immediately.

He stood quietly among the crowd, adopting a meditative posture with his right hand cupping his left in front of him, as if seated in practice. The whisk rested in the crook of his arm as he stood silently amidst the disciples, listening to his senior brother’s teachings on the Dao. As expected, the explanations were profound and advanced.

The Daoist expounded on the techniques of refining Primordial Essence and the methods of harnessing innate Primordial Qi with exceptional clarity.

Yet Qi Wuhuo vaguely felt that what this Daoist was speaking about seemed to have been something he had developed himself, based on the oral instructions the elder had passed down. In comparison, it was far less profound and subtle than what the elder had taught. After the Daoist finished expounding on the Dao and answering the many disciples’ questions, he finally departed.

All the disciples rose in unison, bowed respectfully, and said together, “We bid farewell, Teacher.”

Qi Wuhuo pondered briefly and followed behind the Daoist.

He glanced back, noticing the many disciples. Some were young and handsome, others dressed in opulent attire, all of them appearing as dragons and phoenixes among men.

His senior brother’s steps were light and unhurried.

The Daoist returned to his quiet chamber. The room was devoid of luxury, adhering instead to simplicity. He brewed himself a cup of tea.

Lowering his gaze, he exhaled softly, listening to the persistent calls of “Teacher” from outside. A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips.

Suddenly, with a carefree tone, he recited:

“The immortal of the Purple Mansion chant scriptures at night,

The pine wind caresses his seat as if strumming a qin.”

“At dawn, he will journey to Mount Qingcheng,

Pointing with a laugh to Penglai as a guest star.”

A quiet voice interrupted: “Senior Brother seems to be in excellent spirits.”

The Daoist froze, alarm rising in his heart. With his cultivation level, how could someone approach so closely without him noticing? Waves of caution surged within him. Yet, his experience steadied him, and he replied calmly with a smile: “Which Daoist friend seeks me here?”

Qi Wuhuo dissipated the concealment technique.

The master of the Path Enlightenment Hall, prepared to unleash a strike at the slightest fluctuation in qi, suddenly saw ripples spreading in the space seven steps ahead of him. Out of the shimmering air, a young Daoist emerged naturally.

Dressed in a blue water-pattern robe, his black hair tied with a wooden hairpin, a sash of five-colored silk at his waist—without any jade ornaments—he carried only a green branch slanted at his side.

His right hand held a whisk. His bearing was refined and unassuming.

He stood as though a high-ranking disciple of the Daoist sects, yet also like an immortal guest from the mundane world.

The Daoist who had established the Path Enlightenment Hall showed a slight shift in expression and rose to his feet.

“You are?!!”

Qi Wuhuo observed the Daoist before him, noting his simple attire—an ordinary Daoist robe and a wooden hairpin, with no signs of indulgent luxury. Yet, his demeanor was deep, and his eyes shone brightly. Qi Wuhuo clasped his hands and offered a slight bow.

“Junior Brother Xuanwei greets Senior Brother.”

“Xuanwei…”

The Daoist instinctively turned to look around, searching for the elder’s presence, but saw no trace of him. He unconsciously asked,

“Where is Teacher?”

Qi Wuhuo paused briefly and replied as instructed by the elder: “Today, I am the only one here.”

The Daoist visibly exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled.

“I wasn’t aware my junior brother would be gracing me with a visit. If you had informed me earlier, I could have prepared a proper reception.”

“Come, sit, and have some tea.”

He retrieved some tea. Qi Wuhuo recognized it as neither the rarest nor the most common—it was the kind that grew on sheer cliffs and was hard to come by. Even the water used to brew it seemed to be melted glacier ice brought from a frigid, remote place. Qi Wuhuo observed the Daoist before him and, without much small talk, went straight to the point. “Teacher wishes for Senior Brother to return to the sect for cultivation. Will you comply?”

The Daoist asked: “Return to the sect? For what purpose?”

Qi Wuhuo answered: “Wandering from place to place, seeking teachers and visiting friends, cultivating both nature and destiny.”

The Daoist fell silent. His gaze instinctively drifted to the window, where he could see the dense canopies of ancient pines and cypresses, ever verdant.

Though he disdained luxury, he enjoyed the respect and reverence of countless disciples. His visitors were all nobles and dignitaries. His leisure moments were spent conversing and drinking with peerless beauties. Though he refrained from directly influencing the tides of the world, his every word and action subtly shaped its course. As a cultivator in the mundane world, the Emperor of the human race cultivating the Dao of Fate relied on him as a pillar of support.

Every move he made in this realm was like a chess piece placed on the board of red dust, setting in motion an endless chain of transformations.

Though uninterested in beauty, the most beautiful women under heaven were at his beck and call. Though not greedy for wealth, all the riches of the world were his if he so desired.

As these thoughts arose, a faint sense of self-satisfaction emerged from the depths of his Dao Heart.

But he realized that leaving this place would mean wandering the world, and such privileges would no longer follow him.

His hand circled the rim of the tea cup, hesitating for a moment before he let out a carefree laugh and said:

“Perhaps I will have to go against the teacher’s command.”

Qi Wuhuo asked: “Why?”

The Daoist replied: “I once harbored great ambitions—to guide countless disciples and bring salvation to the world. Now, I have only just begun. The current emperor is wise and valiant. With my assistance, he can accomplish great deeds, unify the realm, and eliminate the demon kingdoms of the four directions. At the same time, I can gather countless disciples to join our Daoist school and pass on the principles of the Dao. I have yet to achieve these goals, so I cannot follow Teacher and leave.”

Qi Wuhuo gazed deeply at the Daoist before him but did not accept his attempts to keep him. Rising to his feet, he took his leave.

“In that case, Teacher once bestowed upon Senior Brother your Daoist name and a jade slip.”

“Please return them.”

The Daoist was silent for a moment. He reached into his sleeve and retrieved the jade slip—which had never left his side.

His fingers brushed over the jade slip, hesitating briefly before finally handing it to Qi Wuhuo.

In his heart, there was a sense of regret, but also a faint relief. Mixed within were fleeting thoughts: after all, the techniques had already been passed down to him, and he had carved his own path. Beyond recording their fated connection, the jade slip no longer seemed indispensable. With his current cultivation, he was akin to an earthly immortal in the mortal world, firmly rooted in his own freedom.

Ah, humans. In the end, they must make their own choices.

Finishing his tea, he felt no change in his Dao Heart. Rising to his feet with a smile, he said: “Junior brother, allow me to see you off…”

Qi Wuhuo shook his head and said: “No need to trouble yourself fellow Daoist.”

The Heavenly Master who once bore the Daoist name of Yuyang wore a complex expression, sighed deeply, and watched as the young man pushed open the door. Sunlight poured into the room, stirring up a faint swirl of dust, which sparkled like golden light in the sun’s rays. As Qi Wuhuo stepped out, some of the junior disciples looked at him with surprise. The youth merely nodded politely in greeting, then, wearing his Daoist shoes, walked away steadily and purposefully.

Curious, one of the disciples, standing with graying temples, asked: “Teacher, who is this young Daoist?”

The Daoist, now bereft of the title of Yuyang True Person, gazed at the boy striding through the interplay of light and shadow. Dressed in his blue water-pattern robe, carrying a sword box on his back, and walking with a straight and unyielding posture, the image brought back memories of his own early days on the Daoist path. A mix of emotions crossed his face—complication, regret, and, finally, a quiet sense of relief. He shook his head, smiling softly, and turned away, replying peacefully:

“An old acquaintance. Nothing more…”

When Qi Wuhuo stepped outside, he saw the elder gazing intently at a tree, watching its leaves as though utterly engrossed.

For reasons unknown, Qi Wuhuo felt a stir of anger and sorrow. Taking out the jade slip, he said: “Teacher, what are you doing?”

The elder did not turn his head. Instead, he raised a hand, pointing at an evergreen tree. Among its leaves, one swayed lightly in the wind, as though on the verge of falling but not quite ready. Half-dried, half-green, it appeared strangely enigmatic. Smiling, the elder said: “I am simply observing—will this leaf fall? Or will it not? And if it does, when will it descend? When will it wither?”

He then added: “It seems he did not follow you out. He has already made his choice?”

Qi Wuhuo nodded.

The elder turned to face him, his gaze falling on the jade slip. It was identical in quality to the one Qi Wuhuo carried. The front bore the name Yuyang, while the reverse was inscribed with the Daoist’s name and surname. The elder looked at Qi Wuhuo and said: “Take out your sword and shatter this jade slip.”

Qi Wuhuo, not yet at the realm of Innate Qi, simply followed the elder’s instructions. Drawing his sword from the sword box, he swung it down upon the jade slip. The blade struck cleanly, and the jade slip shattered into fragments.

The elder pulled out a stick of candied hawthorn and handed it to him with a smile. “Good child, here, take this.”

The blue-robed youth replied: “I am no longer a child, Teacher. There is no need to treat me like this.”

The elder’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Will you eat it?”

“…I’ll eat it.”

Qi Wuhuo, carrying the sword box on his back, sheathed his sword and accepted the candied hawthorn. At first, he cautiously licked the thin layer of sugar coating on top, then began eating it slowly. He asked:

“Teacher, is shattering the jade slip really enough?”

The elder responded warmly: “Yes, that’s enough.”

“There’s no need to take anything from him—no need to strip away his cultivation or his achievements.”

“His foundation remains intact, his path of cultivation unchanged. It’s just that he and I are no longer connected.”

Qi Wuhuo, still too young to fully grasp the meaning of these words, fell into contemplation. As he pondered, the shattered fragments of the jade slip, left discarded by the roadside, suddenly disintegrated into motes of light, vanishing entirely.

From the ancient, evergreen tree, a single green leaf finally drifted down.

The elder sighed with a faint smile:

“From this moment forward, he [was never] my disciple.”
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