Chapter Thirteen: Deliberation

One year later.

“Ah...” A young boy yawned, rubbing his head as he sat up in bed.

“All those things I moved yesterday—what a tiring day,” he complained, climbing down from the bed and opening the door. Instantly, a sharp flood of sunlight poured in from outside.

Squinting his eyes, he shielded his face with a hand, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Once he did, he stretched lazily and stepped outside.

He walked briskly toward a small stream, crouched by the water, and studied his reflection. It was a face still tinged with youthfulness—perhaps not striking enough to turn heads, but certainly above average.

He cupped his hands, scooped up a handful of water, washed his face, and glanced again at his reflection, murmuring to himself, “It's been a year since Little Ash left. I wonder how he's doing now.”

Shaking the water off his hands, he straightened. His was a slender figure, not tall—about one meter seventy—thin and lanky, clad in gray clothes patched and riddled with holes.

This boy was Lu Zhe, who worked at the docks. Compared to a year ago, he had grown taller, lost much of his childishness, and his features had become more handsome.

He shrugged, loosened his shoulders, and threw two quick punches. The speed was remarkable—so fast the wind whistled with each strike.

“Hmm.” Lu Zhe was satisfied with his punches, stretched a bit more, then dashed down the mountain.

At the foot of the hill, he sped through the market streets, greeting familiar vendors along the way, and soon arrived at his usual workplace—the Clear Creek Dock.

He made his way to Old Six’s room, knocked, and only pushed the door open once he heard someone respond inside.

Inside, Old Six was sitting with eyes closed, resting. Lu Zhe greeted him, “Uncle Six.”

“Hmm?” Old Six opened his eyes on hearing his name, saw Lu Zhe, and smiled lightly. “You’re here. Sit down.”

Lu Zhe pulled up a chair and sat. Old Six sat up slowly and studied him. “Lu Zhe, how old are you this year?”

Lu Zhe thought for a moment. “About fifteen, I think.”

“You’re already fifteen.” Old Six nodded.

“Mm.” Lu Zhe nodded.

“Give me your hand.” Old Six rolled up his sleeves.

Lu Zhe was caught off guard, but said nothing and extended his hand.

Old Six grasped his arm, closed his eyes, as if pondering something.

“Hmm. You are indeed fifteen, but missing a day. To be precise, you’ll be fifteen tomorrow.” Old Six released his arm.

“Huh?” Lu Zhe looked at him, puzzled.

“Come here tomorrow. I have something to discuss with you,” Old Six said, reclining in his chair.

“Oh, alright.” Lu Zhe nodded.

“That’s all. You can go. By the way, bring Money Fourth and Iron Tower over,” Old Six added.

“Okay.” Lu Zhe nodded, pushed the door open, and left.

After leaving Old Six’s house, Lu Zhe went to the accounting room. Seeing Money Fourth busy with the books, he waited until he finished, then called, “Uncle Fourth.”

The man turned his head, revealing a face so thin it seemed skin stretched over bone, with a prominent mole on his right cheek sprouting a single hair. He was the one who managed all the accounts at Clear Creek Dock.

He sized Lu Zhe up, gently stroking the mole’s hair. Clearly, Lu Zhe’s early arrival surprised him.

“What do you want? It’s not payday yet. Looking for credit? Not a chance.” His tone was sharp and biting.

“No, you’ve misunderstood, Uncle Fourth. Uncle Six asked me to come—he said he needs you,” Lu Zhe explained.

“I see.” Money Fourth replied.

Lu Zhe nodded and turned to leave, but Money Fourth called after him, “Don’t just stand there, unless you want to spend New Year’s here.”

Lu Zhe stuck out his tongue and dashed out as if escaping for his life.

Back at the dock, Lu Zhe asked someone about Iron Tower’s whereabouts and hurried over.

Finding Iron Tower, Lu Zhe relayed Old Six’s request. Iron Tower nodded, tossed him a hammer, and pointed to a stack of crates towering like a mountain. “I’m off. You nail all these crates shut today.”

“Just nailing today, heh...” Lu Zhe secretly rejoiced. Usually, he had to move the heavy crates, and today’s task was much easier, even though there were plenty—it was still manageable.

He caught the hammer Iron Tower handed him, but it was astonishingly heavy—he needed both hands just to lift it, and even then it was a struggle, let alone swinging it.

Lu Zhe’s face turned red as a hen laying an egg, gritting his teeth just to pick it up, but after a moment, he had to set it down heavily. The hammer’s impact left a spider-web of cracks on the ground.

“Goodness, how heavy is this thing?” Lu Zhe muttered, uneasy, staring at the cracks spreading across the ground.

“Work hard,” Iron Tower patted his shoulder and strode away.

Watching Iron Tower’s retreating figure, Lu Zhe thought, “How terrifying—he wields that thing as if it’s nothing. How much strength does that take?”

Iron Tower disappeared quickly, not caring what Lu Zhe thought.

Clear Creek Dock, Old Six’s room—the three leaders of the dock were gathered here.

“What’s going on, Xuefei? Why did you call us so urgently?” Iron Tower asked.

“Take a seat,” Old Six gestured to the chairs.

Iron Tower pulled up a chair, Money Fourth sat on another.

“I’ve called you both here for something important,” Old Six said, pausing.

“What is it?” Money Fourth asked.

“Lu Zhe is a day away from turning fifteen,” Old Six said gravely.

“Hm, what?!” Iron Tower rocked his chair and sprang up at the news.

“What are you so excited about? Sit down,” Old Six said helplessly.

Ignoring Old Six, Iron Tower clasped his hands and spoke to the heavens, “Ah, finally free! At last, I can travel again, reclaim my identity, finally…”

Old Six knocked on the table, annoyed, “Don’t celebrate too soon. I haven’t finished.”

“What?” Old Six’s words silenced Iron Tower, who asked in confusion.

“His clan sent word. Things are difficult for them lately, and they can’t spare anyone. They want us to guide him in his cultivation,” Old Six explained.

“What?” Iron Tower and Money Fourth exclaimed in unison.

“So, they want us to keep looking after the kid?” Money Fourth asked.

“Mm.” Old Six nodded.

“I... I...” Iron Tower was at a loss for words.

“What about it?” Old Six interrupted, hands folded under his chin in thought.

“I... You... You really think I’m cut out for teaching?” Iron Tower finally managed.

“No,” Money Fourth answered.

“See, Old Yan knows how to speak,” Iron Tower said approvingly.

“I never planned for you to teach him. Why are you so excited?” Old Six rolled his eyes.

“Oh? That’s good,” Iron Tower breathed a sigh of relief, settling back in his chair.

“None of us are teaching him,” Old Six continued.

“Hm? If we’re not teaching, how do we explain to his clan?” Money Fourth asked.

“There’s someone else who will,” Old Six smiled.

“Who?” Money Fourth pressed.

“Among us old codgers, who do you think is best at teaching?” Old Six reclined in his chair.

“You mean, him?” Money Fourth seemed to guess, uncertain.

Old Six just grinned, rocking his chair.

“Indeed, he’s the best choice for teaching Lu Zhe. But do you know where he is?” Money Fourth tapped the chair.

“I’ve already contacted him. He should arrive in a couple of days,” Old Six replied.

“Did you tell him about Lu Zhe’s background?” Money Fourth asked.

“I did,” Old Six said, opening his eyes and gazing solemnly at the ceiling.

“What did he say?” Money Fourth continued.

“Nothing much,” Old Six’s answer surprised Money Fourth.

Thinking for a moment, Money Fourth shook his head and looked down, whether speaking to himself or to Old Six.

“By the way, Zhentian, did you finish what I asked you to make?” Old Six suddenly remembered, sitting up.

“Hm? Oh, yes,” Iron Tower replied.

“How’s the quality?”

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect. I may not be good at much, but forging is my livelihood,” Iron Tower patted his chest.

“Good. Tomorrow we’ll help him break through the first spiritual gate. After that, it’ll be up to that other fellow,” Old Six said, rocking his chair.

“Are you sure it’s safe to hand him over?” Iron Tower asked, uneasy.

“His safety is assured. But how he’s trained—that’s up to that old man,” Old Six replied.

“Tomorrow, the three of us will leave. I have a pile of matters waiting for me, and those old guys at the sect aren’t sitting still either,” Old Six said with a bitter smile.

“Tomorrow I’ll set off too. I’ve been stuck in this miserable place long enough,” Iron Tower swung his arms, eager to leave Clear Creek Town.

“What about you?” Old Six asked.

“Me? I should go, too. I’m a bit reluctant, but it’s time,” Money Fourth said, not as eager as Iron Tower.

“Tomorrow... Tomorrow,” Old Six murmured, gently rocking his chair.

(Apologies, friends! I meant to update at midnight, but had to go out to work, so it’s delayed. Sorry, everyone. Wishing you all a happy Singles’ Day—and wishing myself happiness too.)