Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Gathering and Parting of Mortal Ties

The next morning, at dawn.

Qingyuan took his leave from his fellow disciples, Qiyuan and Qiming.

“I have imposed on you for days, and truly feel I have overstayed,” he said with a gentle smile. “It’s a pity I never had the chance to meet your sect’s elders or the master of your temple. In these few days, from the little I have glimpsed, I have only been able to sketch the faintest outlines of two enlightened figures in my mind.”

Qiming grinned mischievously. “If you want to see our temple master, then you should just stay another month or two!”

Qingyuan shook his head and replied, “I have already stayed too long. In truth, I should have left days ago, but the journey ahead is long and arduous, so I took a couple of extra days to rest—more than enough.”

Qiyuan chided Qiming, then turned to Qingyuan and bowed. “Our temple always values fate and affinity. Should you ever pass nearby again, please do come up the mountain and let us renew our friendship.”

Qingyuan returned the bow. “I certainly will.”

Qiyuan smiled. “Then I wish you a safe journey.”

“Thank you.”

Qingyuan bowed once more and then made his way toward where Master Yunjing awaited.

Qiyuan and Qiming watched his departing figure for a long while before turning and heading toward the rear courtyard.

“Senior brother, don’t you think this Qingyuan is younger than you, and not much older than me, yet he’s just like Master Yunjing?”

“What do you mean, ‘just like’? He’s eloquent and has a noble bearing…”

“How do I learn to be like that?”

“Every person is different. You’re endearingly foolish enough—you needn’t learn.”

“Oh…”

Outside the courtyard, Master Yunjing stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Old Master Ge was there too, holding Ge Yuer by the hand, waiting.

“It seems our young friend intends to depart,” Master Yunjing nodded. “I will stay here to wish you a smooth journey and the fulfillment of your wishes.”

Qingyuan bowed. “Thank you for your kind words, sir.”

Master Yunjing smiled, saying nothing more.

Old Master Ge sighed and said, “The world is vast and boundless. For us to meet in a small village at the foot of the mountains is fate. To have traveled together, to have dwelled under the same temple roof, is also by fate. Though all feasts must end, some may yet reconvene. If our fates are aligned, we shall meet again.”

Qingyuan smiled softly. “If my journey goes well and I find what I seek, then unhindered, I will come to seek your hospitality again, Master Ge.”

Old Master Ge stroked his beard and laughed heartily. “That would be wonderful.”

He chuckled, then turned a serious gaze to the mountain fiend. “I have taught you the way of the blade, though it is lethal at its core, it is meant to protect—to defend yourself, and to protect Master Qingyuan. Remember, never use it for evil…”

Gu Cang, shrouded in a dark robe with his face hidden, hesitated for a moment, then knelt down in the proper manner, paying deep respects.

“Good…” Old Master Ge nodded. “All my life, I have taught many to read and write, but you are the only one to whom I have imparted the blade. I accept you as my disciple.”

Gu Cang pressed his head into the dust, and after a moment, managed two words: “Master…”

Old Master Ge stroked his beard, smiling. “Good.”

Qingyuan was pleased to witness their bond and looked at Gu Cang with deep approval, nodding.

“Sir,” Ge Yuer approached, her eyes reluctant to part. She handed over a cloth bag, embroidered with flowers. “This is a bag I just learned to make. You can use it to carry your wooden carvings.”

Qingyuan was moved and accepted the bag. “Even such small matters, you remember in your heart.”

Ge Yuer smiled softly, but her eyes were rimmed with red.

Qingyuan thought for a moment and took out a wooden carving of a tiger and wolf, smiling. “You gave me a gift, so I must give you one too. Though this carving is rather fierce and ugly, you once said you liked it, so I’ll shamelessly gift it to you…”

Ge Yuer immediately brightened, her eyes shining as she nodded vigorously.

Old Master Ge, however, sensed nothing unusual, while Master Yunjing frowned.

He understood the principles of the world and saw at a glance that the carving was made of locust wood—a wood associated with evil, more likely to attract spirits and sinister forces. Practitioners might be unafraid, but for ordinary children like Ge Yuer, the evil aura could be harmful.

Qingyuan knew this too, but he had already refined the carving, purging most of its malevolence. Still, to be certain, he bit open his finger and traced a line of blood across the wood.

Ge Yuer cried out in alarm, grabbing his finger. “Sir, what are you doing?”

Qingyuan smiled. “It has its use.”

Old Master Ge was puzzled, and glanced at Master Yunjing.

Master Yunjing explained quietly, “This carving is made of locust wood, which is evil in nature. But Qingyuan is a practitioner—by biting his finger and letting his heart’s blood touch the wood, it suppresses the evil. Tell Yuer not to wipe off the blood. Once it dries and soaks in, the danger will be gone.”

Old Master Ge nodded in understanding. “So that’s how it is.”

Their farewells were heartfelt and reluctant.

Qingyuan ruffled the little girl’s hair. “We’ll meet again. This is just a brief parting.”

Ge Yuer clutched the carving, her face streaked with tears.

Old Master Ge, who had known Qingyuan for some time and found much joy in their conversations along the journey, could not help but sigh. Master Yunjing, though he had not spent much time with Qingyuan, held him in high regard and felt a touch of emotion as well.

“We will surely meet again.”

Qingyuan bowed, then turned and departed.

The mountain fiend, Gu Cang, saluted and followed, carrying the long blade.

“Monkey…”

Ge Yuer bit her lip, watching the two figures recede into the distance. Suddenly, she shouted, “Take care of sir! If you don’t, I won’t forgive you!”

The dark figure paused, then raised its long arm toward the sky, waving in farewell.

“Alright…”

A slightly hoarse voice echoed through the mountain pass.

…

The mountains stretched on, shrouded in drifting mist.

Qingyuan and Gu Cang had barely left when another figure appeared on the mountain path—a young maiden.

She wore robes of pale pink that fluttered gracefully in the wind. Her features were delicate, her brow gentle, her eyes sparkling and bright with a clear light.

She walked through the mountains, black hair like a waterfall, red garments like the morning glow.

Her steps were light, her posture poised and balanced. She seemed a spirit of the mountains.

She arrived at the gate of Mingyuan Monastery.

Qiming was carrying water and, upon seeing the maiden, was instantly spellbound.

“Little priest… what are you staring at?”

Her gentle voice startled Qiming.

“N-nothing…” he stammered, cursing himself for his foolishness. He hurried forward and asked, “Miss, may I ask what brings you to our monastery?”

She stood in the breeze, pink robes swaying, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m looking for someone.”

Qiming lowered his gaze, not daring to look directly at her. “Who are you looking for?”

“Master Yunjing.”

Qiming was surprised. “You’re looking for Master Yunjing as well? May I ask your name…”

“My surname is Ge,” she replied, folding her hands behind her back. “Ge Guo’er.”