Chapter 8: The Place Where the Ancestor Lived
The moon quietly climbed to the treetops, its bright light illuminating the scenic area of Zhenwu Mountain.
The Shuishu Beast sped along with Luxianbei, crossing the mountain ridge, leaping over the ravine, darting through the dense forest, traversing most of the scenic area, and finally came to a stop deep in a mountain hollow.
“Thanks, Big Cousin!”
Luxianbei shouted a thank you to the Shuishu Beast, leapt off its back, steadied himself, and scanned the surroundings under the moonlight, soon discovering an unusual place.
A pebble path meandered ahead from his feet, disappearing into the woods, and at the end of the path, he could vaguely see the outline of a building obscured by greenery.
Luxianbei thought, “Something feels off!”
Could it be a small Taoist temple leeching off incense offerings?
Where exactly did Big Cousin bring me?
Muttering a few complaints, Luxianbei silently activated his Ling Tai Purification skill.
With a series of soft clinks, heavy armor enveloped his body, granting him a sense of safety. Only then did he take a step forward, continuing along the path.
As he walked along the overgrown path, the obscured building soon became clearer in his sight. It was indeed a small Taoist temple that looked long abandoned.
The location of the small Taoist temple was at the center of a small basin in a mountain hollow.
It was early summer, and in the small basin, shrubs and weeds grew wildly. The trees around, left untended for a long time, had thick, twisted trunks, and the old roots burst through the ground, covered in moss.
The entire temple was built with locally sourced, dark gray rocks commonly found in Zhenwu Mountain. It was simple and haphazard, the roof half-collapsed, with tiles almost entirely missing, leaving only a few broken pieces clinging stubbornly to the main beam. The broken windows resembled dark, soulless eyes.
The whole small Taoist temple exuded an aura of decay, simplicity, and eeriness.
In the clearing in front of the small Taoist temple stood four graves, two of which had toppled headstones, entangled in vines and moss. As Luxianbei approached, nocturnal creatures lurking in the darkness were startled, making shrill cries as they scattered.
Normally, if Luxianbei encountered such a scene, even without perceiving any spirit energy fluctuations, he would have long since turned tail and fled.
He was skilled at getting into trouble, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
Although this place was not far from Dachunyang Palace, the combination of desolate mountains, wild graves, and the crumbling temple gave off an unmistakable sense of danger.
However, standing before the dilapidated small Taoist temple today, looking at the ruins, Luxianbei felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
The twisted trees seemed very kind, and the pale moonlight filtering through the branches was gentle.
That feeling was akin to standing before the grave of a relative, where one would feel no fear, even sensing that the family was observing them from the shadows.
Luxianbei glanced back at the Shuishu Beast, which waited quietly at the other end of the path.
The Shuishu Beast showed no signs of concern, even raising its head and signaling for him to proceed.
Luxianbei slightly furrowed his brow, pulled his gaze away, took a deep breath, set down the materials and items needed for the directional summon spell, and bravely stepped forward.
Should I go take a look?
Big Cousin might want to help me, but surely she wouldn’t want to harm me, Luxianbei thought.
Ever since the thought of anticipation arose along with the armor that felt like a fortress, his courage had grown, to the point where he dared to approach this broken temple in the wilds.
Arriving at the clearing in front of the small Taoist temple, Luxianbei paused before the four wild graves.
He reached out to brush the dirt off one of the headstones and parted the entangled dead vines. On the severely weathered stone, it seemed there had once been an inscription, but most of it was now illegible, with only a few characters still distinguishable.
“Is it just the words ‘Respected Master’? Uh, why isn’t there even a birth and d*ath year?” Luxianbei murmured in confusion as he looked at the headstone. There was nothing recognizable left on this one.
Luxianbei moved forward slightly, cleared away another headstone, and scrutinized it carefully. This time, he made a startling discovery.
In the center of the headstone, it still simply read “Respected Master,” but at the very bottom, it boldly stated “In the autumn of the Yimao year, the unworthy disciple Qing Ji respectfully erected this.”
Ah, could this Qing Ji be the one I know? Could this be the small Taoist temple where the ancestor grew up? Luxianbei’s heart raced.
Previously, when setting off to Dachunyang Palace, Qing Ji had asked Luxianbei for help to pay respects and make offerings for his few substitute teachers, even kindly providing a map.
However, the mountain range surrounding Zhenwu Mountain was vast, with majestic heights and a complex terrain. Plus, Qing Ji’s drawing style bore little resemblance to a carbon-based organism, offering no help in navigation and instead adding to the puzzle, inadvertently making it harder.
Luxianbei simply couldn’t find the small Taoist temple, and after asking Zhang Hainan and Huasang, they too were clueless.
Unexpectedly, he had been led here by Big Cousin due to a twist of fate just as he was leaving.
Luxianbei lifted his gaze toward the remnants of the ruins ahead, and as he took a step, his eyes suddenly felt a warmth, as if something melted and the world around him twisted and warped.
Accompanied by a sense of disorientation, it felt like he was experiencing a hallucination, catching glimpses of the past.
Lights and shadows shifted, and it seemed snow began to fall from the sky.
Amidst heavy snowfall, a tall, thin old Taoist in a tattered cotton coat, blind in one eye, seemed to be carefully cradling something in his arms as he hurried along the pebble path, calling out loudly.
“Senior Brother, Junior Brother, come out quickly and see what I brought back!”
“Is it food? Is it something to eat?” A light voice came from within the temple as a short and stout old Taoist with a missing ear rushed out, and upon seeing what the tall old Taoist cradled, his expression changed.
“Blessed be the Infinite Lord! Senior Brother, although we’re on the verge of running out of food, it’s not to that extent…”
“What’s wrong? Why are you shouting so early?” A large, robust old Taoist with a broken arm came out and inquired.
“Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother wants to eat a child!”
“Huh?” The robust old Taoist was taken aback.
“Stop with the nonsense!” The thin old Taoist pointed angrily at the stout old Taoist’s nose. “I could see that the child was abandoned on the roadside, nearly frozen to d*ath. I couldn’t bear to watch and brought him back! Who said anything about eating?”
The robust old Taoist interjected, frowning, “Not eating him, are you planning to raise him?”
Saying this, the stout old Taoist glanced at the half-frozen infant and shook his head repeatedly. “That won’t do. We’re almost starving ourselves; raising him would only add to our woes.”
“But Senior Brother, we can’t just watch him d*e, can we?” the thin old Taoist asked, and the robust old Taoist’s expression suddenly became conflicted.
“Then let’s take him to Dachunyang Palace!” The stout old Taoist cried, “After all, they’re a big family; raising one more child is nothing, right?”
At that moment, a kind-eyed, slightly lame old Taoist came out, looked at the infant in the thin old Taoist’s arms, then smiled at the robust old Taoist and clasped his hands. “Senior Brother, we narrowly escaped from that dreadful place. Our legacy is at stake; wouldn’t it be a pity? How about…”
“How about we keep this child? Let him carry on the incense of our temple.”
The robust old Taoist pondered for a moment, glanced at the child in the thin old Taoist’s arms, and nodded. “Fine, we’ll keep him.”
The lame old Taoist thought for a moment and asked, “What name should we give him? We can’t just let him be nameless like us, can we?”
At this, the robust old Taoist considered and looked up, noticing that the snow had stopped, and the mountains were draped in silver, shimmering in the sunlight, dreamlike.
“How about we call him Qing Ji?”
“Snow has stopped, fog has dissipated, and the weather is clear. Qing Ji? Good name! I hope he can one day be the person who clears away the shadows and brings brightness back to the world…”
The voice in his ears gradually faded, as if blown away by the wind, becoming indistinct. The scene before him rippled like a reflection in water disturbed, dissipating into layers of ripples.
Then, as if the hands of time were hastily moved by an invisible force, the images before him began to rapidly change again, lights and shadows swirling.
Seasons cycled, flowers bloomed and withered, the small Taoist temple witnessed the passage of time, undergoing several repetitions.
The infant who once nearly froze to d*ath on the mountain path grew rapidly under the careful nurturing and teachings of his four masters, soon becoming a lively child running around.
During this time, the care that the four old Taoists showed Qing Ji could be described as meticulous.
If Bai Kai gave Luxianbei the feeling of a “male mom,” then the four old Taoists with Qing Ji felt like the ancestor had four “male moms.”
This wasn’t the kind of strange “male mom,” but a feeling of gentle warmth and detailed care similar to that of a mother. Luxianbei suddenly missed Water Brother.
Of course, he didn’t miss Water Brother’s tenderness; he simply missed the person of Water Brother.
Soon, this child grew into a graceful young man.
At that moment, the speed of the changing scene slowed down, and Luxianbei heard the sound of intense arguing…
“Filial disciple! Look at what you’ve done!” the robust old Taoist scolded, pointing at Qing Ji. “I’ve told you many times not to cause trouble at Dachunyang Palace; why don’t you listen?”
“Now look, you injured over ten disciples, and two might be permanently disabled. They’ve come to the door to demand we hand you over; what do we do now?”
“Let’s go, go! You’re coming with me to Dachunyang Palace to apologize.”
Breaking free from the old Taoist’s reaching hand, Qing Ji raised his chin slightly and snorted disdainfully. “Hmph! Those Dachunyang Palace disciples ganged up to beat me; I was simply defending myself when I injured them!”
“It’s their fault; why should I apologize to them?”
“You still dare to argue?” the robust old Taoist said angrily. “This time it isn’t your fault, but what about in the past? If it weren’t for your previous actions, why would they come together to deal with you?”
“I…” Qing Ji hesitated, evasively avoiding the robust old Taoist’s gaze and muttering, “Regardless, I won’t apologize to those guys.”
“Senior Brother, Qing Ji didn’t mean it on purpose. Besides, it’s not our fault…” the thin old Taoist interjected.
The robust old Taoist shot a glare at the thin old Taoist, interrupting him. “Do you think we haven’t made mistakes? If it weren’t for our excessive indulgence, he wouldn’t have turned out this way!”
“Second Master, don’t say that. Master is just like that; he’s afraid of Dachunyang Palace.” Qing Ji addressed the thin old Taoist. “One person does the deed; one person should bear the consequences.”
“Fine, I’ll just go down the mountain. This vast world, where can’t I go?” He added defiantly, “Anyway, I’ve long wanted to see what’s outside the mountain.”
The robust old Taoist’s lips trembled with anger, pointing at Qing Ji. “You think you’re tough now? Fine, leave! If you go, don’t come back!”
“Fine, I don’t want to come back either! I wouldn’t want to stay in this place!” Qing Ji retorted defiantly and turned to run out of the small Taoist temple.
Thus, in the autumn of his eighteenth year, Qing Ji left Zhenwu Mountain and did not return for a long time. Since that day, the robust old Taoist sat at the entrance of the small Taoist temple, from dawn until dusk.
At first, members of Dachunyang Palace would come forcefully to demand an explanation.
Later, those demanding explanations turned into messengers, occasionally bringing bits of news about Qing Ji. They said he had cleared the terrifying “Deadman’s Ridge” a hundred miles away, returning victorious.
They said he had nearly lost his life in defense of an ancient temple.
They said he met a little chef in Huacheng, that he went to Miaojiang and scaled Kunlun.
The further Qing Ji traveled, the longer the intervals between news became.
Eventually, the messenger from Dachunyang Palace stopped coming, but the robust old Taoist remained at the entrance of the small Taoist temple, not knowing whether he awaited Qing Ji’s return or had simply formed a habit.
Until one day…
The autumn wind swept away the leaves, casting a desolate air over the entire Zhenwu Mountain.
The thin old Taoist walked along the pebble path, holding two plump yellow croakers, and passed by the robust old Taoist.
The robust old Taoist caught sight of the yellow croakers in his hand and said instinctively, “Second Brother, steam those, would you? Qing Ji loves to eat those.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the thin old Taoist holding the fish, the short and stout old Taoist chopping wood, and the lame old Taoist washing clothes all froze in place.
After a long silence, the lame old Taoist finally said, “Senior Brother, Qing Ji has been gone for almost ten years; he probably won’t be coming back.”
The robust old Taoist stared blankly at the pebble path in front of the small Taoist temple, covered in fallen leaves, not knowing what to think. After a long while, he finally responded with a drawn-out “oh.”
It was as if he couldn’t swallow the words but, in the end, had to let them go.
Then, he slowly stood up, collected the chair, and walked into the small Taoist temple, never to emerge again.
That year, winter arrived, and heavy snow sealed the mountain.
The accumulated snow on the mountains and valleys felt just like the four old Taoists of the small Taoist temple in the year they found the infant who nearly froze to d*ath.
Years later, it was once more autumn.
Just about to marry Luxianzhi, Qing Ji finally returned to this place, wanting to invite his four masters to his wedding, but what he found were nameless graves without even headstones.
“Masters, look! I am now the one who clears away the shadows and restores the bright world, truly…” Qing Ji knelt for a long time before the four nameless gravestones, murmuring.
However, no one responded to him any longer.
Only the wind rustling through the leaves in the forest created a sound, quiet enough to be maddening. In the end, countless thoughts turned into just a long sigh.
“Ah!”
Before the echo of Qing Ji’s sigh faded, Luxianbei couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of his own.
Having lost his father, with many things left undone that he didn’t have the chance to do with him, he could somewhat empathize with Qing Ji’s feelings at that moment.
“Are all ancestors and their masters born under the sign of the ox?
Why are they all so stubborn? On one hand, they say they won’t come back, yet on the other hand, they don’t even try to find each other, making it so hard to just acknowledge they’re close to one another? Luxianbei thought.
When he was little, he too had quarreled with his father and left home with harsh words, only to quickly return after admitting his mistake. He didn’t have the same ability and courage as Qing Ji to roam the world alone with just a sword. He only took twelve fifty-cent coins and boarded a bus toward the city’s outskirts.
However, he hadn’t even made it out of Huacheng, not even overcoming the first hurdle of having dinner, before being crushed by the outside world and running back home in disgrace.
When he got home, he realized his father hadn’t even looked for him, and even more frustrating was that his father hadn’t even realized he had run away.
If it weren’t for how fragrant the meals were that night, feeling a mixture of shame and anger, he might have barged headfirst into the load-bearing pillar of the old house, so his old man could experience the pain of losing a close relative.
Looking back now, that day his old man cooked all his favorite dishes, and it was especially plentiful.
From the album left by his mother that he saw not long ago in the God Realm Prototype, it appeared he had actually been shadowed by Water Brother throughout that runaway incident.
Yet, he also didn’t know if it had been concluded that he was some kind of suspect in the God Realm Prototype, as his runaway record was entirely two pages long, and every photo showed Water Brother in a sneaky stance, looking suspicious.
“Ah!”
Luxianbei sighed again. Previously, he had been somewhat envious of Qing Ji’s decisive sword that severed time, but after visiting this small Taoist temple, he felt entirely unconcerned about that sword.
It is said: When parents are alive, life has a return path; when parents are gone, life has only the way back. The four masters are Qing Ji’s origin, and Luxianzhi is Qing Ji’s return.
Perhaps it was precisely because both the origin and the return had disappeared, living alone in this world, uncontrollably and stubbornly trying to counter time and recover, that Qing Ji was able to strike that sword?
At this thought, Luxianbei’s mind unexpectedly conjured the figure of the Proxy Player Sister. Could she also…
Luxianbei shook his head, shaking away the image of Proxy Player Sister from his mind and interrupting his thoughts.
Then, he stepped forward a couple of paces, silently chanting, casting the spell, and carefully restoring the two broken headstones. After standing still for a moment and shaking his head regretfully, he walked toward the ruins of the small Taoist temple.
The damaged headstones had been repaired, but the characters engraved on them couldn’t be restored.
After repairing the headstones, Luxianbei let out a silent sigh, looked up, and walked toward the dilapidated small Taoist temple.
He wanted to see the place where his ancestor once lived and perhaps find something valuable.
The things of the four masters are the belongings of the ancestor; the belongings of the ancestor are, without doubt, my belongings. Isn’t it fair to say “since time immemorial”?
Even if what he found were useless objects, it was better than leaving them out here in the wilderness, and bringing them back would still count as ancestral heirlooms, which held significant sentimental value. Luxianbei thought.
