Gu Ruhui was earnest. He genuinely wanted to teach Xue Cuo the Tianyi Sword Technique. This was the great Dao. As the son of Sword Immortal, he ought not to dabble in shortcuts or heretical paths.
His shixiong was still far too playful. Clearly, he was not without talent.
Xue Cuo felt it too. Though shorter than Gu Ruhui, he noted that Gu Ruhui never stooped to speak to him and so missed the faint disappointment flickering across his face.
In this world, every cultivator follows their own Dao method, their own orthodox transmission of the Dao, firmly believing in its truth. As such, few ever seek to persuade others to change their path.
Xue Zhenzhen was one such.
Now Gu Ruhui was another.
They both silently agreed that Xue Cuo was still a child, ignorant of the correct way. His path was rough and full of pitfalls, devoid of hope, and doomed never to bear Dao results.
And in truth, there was much truth to that. All the gods had been annihilated; to cultivate a road that was blocked was to court abandonment.
Xue Cuo said nothing.
Facing each other for the first time, Gu Ruhui noticed that the once cheerful, ever-smiling Xue Cuo was not happy now.
Unwilling to mince words, Gu Ruhui asked, “Don’t you want to learn? The Tianyi Sword Technique is Shifu’s Dao. With it, you can reach the pinnacle of sword cultivation in the Eastern Lands and grasp the Great Dao itself.”
Xue Cuo let out a muffled groan before blurting, “Achieve the Dao, achieve the Dao. I don’t want to achieve the Dao.”
“Shixiong.”
Though plainly not tall, Xue Cuo took a step forward, forcing Gu Ruhui to step back a few paces. “If you don’t achieve the Dao, you become an ant. As an ant, you endure rebirth, ageing, sickness, the Seven Calamities, the Eight Misfortunes.”
“Mom always says so.”
“But there is no such truth in this world. You may say the sword Dao is good, but you cannot say that if I cultivate another Dao I am doomed to die.”
“It’s fine to become an immortal by achieving the Dao, but if you cannot, you must be willing to be another’s pig, dog, or ant.”
Xue Cuo’s voice trailed off into two hollow laughs. His pale face was heavy with sorrow. These words he had never spoken to Kong Yun, nor to his parents. He was simply confused. Why was the Dao a brutal survival of the fittest?
He looked up at Gu Ruhui. “Xiao Gu-gege, you were once mortal. Do you know why?”
Gu Ruhui’s expression faltered. He had never expected a six-year-old to ponder such questions, nor prepared to discuss such matters with Xue Cuo.
He had once looked down on the boy with jealousy. He had wondered if, with parent like Sword Immortal, he might surpass Xue Cuo.
He had thought Xue Cuo weak and unworthy of his shifu.
Yet now Gu Ruhui was himself weak, yet Shifu had entrusted him with the Eastern Lands’ finest sword.
Sword cultivators were like blocks of wood. Gu Ruhui stood there dazed, while Xue Cuo sighed softly, sitting cross-legged on the large stone at the cave’s mouth, chin resting on his hand, disinterested. “Just go. I won’t learn my father’s swordsmanship.”
Gu Ruhui understood. His shixiong did not welcome him. He grasped his sword and stepped forward slowly.
Xue Cuo gazed at the moon above. One moon, and no stars in the sky.
Suddenly, he sensed someone sitting beside him.
He turned his head. Gu Ruhui’s expression was indifferent; his eyes calm but devoid of human warmth.
He said, “I don’t know the answer to your question. For me, swordsmanship is the best way.”
“As for those who bullied me, I have killed them all.”
He paused and spoke frankly, “If my swordsmanship is weaker than others and I am slain, so be it.”
Xue Cuo remained silent a long while before saying, “Xiao Gu-gege, this is why you can practise the Twelve Heavenly Sword Forms and I cannot.”
“If anyone bullies me for being weak, insults me, makes me toil like a beast, lets themselves run riot, or even kills me once I’m done serving them… I will stand up and shout, ‘I refuse! I won’t endure it!’”
“Even mortals have no such rule.”
“I know why I cannot practise the sword. It’s because I don’t like it, and I don’t believe in your Dao.”
Gu Ruhui was stunned, dazed.
Without a backward glance, Xue Cuo pushed off from the stone and strode into the cave, making no sign of further speech.
Gu Ruhui parted his lips, at a loss, slow of thought and tongue. Shixiong clearly did not want to listen; the remainder of his words went unsaid.
The cave lay empty, leaving Gu Ruhui alone before the moon. After a moment, he pursed his lips lightly.
“Shixiong.”
Xue Cuo stormed back to the cave, flopped onto the bed, rolled around in frustration, and clenched his fists.
“I’m so angry. Hmph.”
He sprawled on the bed, sulking a while, then sighed softly. He had once thought Xianghuo Divine Dao was worthless, so kept his distance.
But now he felt the immortal sect was no different.
Disappointed and weary from the day’s troubles, Xue Cuo was slowly worn down.
The little white cloud flitted back and forth, dabbing his master’s face with water, wiping his dark little hands. Soon, even the stone bed was filled with steady snores.
Meanwhile, Kong Yun returned to his cave, heavy-hearted. Sitting cross-legged in meditation, he practised tirelessly, striving to increase his strength without rest.
In a daze, Kong Yun entered a state of enlightenment. He found himself in a meadow blossoming with flowers, beneath a towering tree. A peacock slept on its branches, its feathers drifting gently in the breeze.
Feeling a deep familiarity, Kong Yun approached and sat beneath the tree.
Suddenly, within the cave, a giant peacock Dao image rose behind him. It was vivid and lively, lowering its gaze at Kong Yun before vanishing.
—
Wendao Palace, Jinque Tower.
This was a place dedicated for Taiyi Sect disciples to practise. Occasionally, masters would deliver lectures here, but it was also a space for solitary contemplation.
Once bustling, the Jinque Tower was now quiet and still.
The daughter of Elder Bai of Taiyi Sect, who had the fastest growth in cultivation and the highest talent among her peers, competed Dao with new disciples on the Dao Discussion Platform today, but lost to a six-year-old child.
The news spread quickly through the Jinque Tower. Cultivators who had once been bullied by Bai Luoluo couldn’t help but gloat over her misfortune.
“Bai-shijie isn’t as good as she thinks. Losing to a child is simply ridiculous.”
“Has she even had enlightenment? Isn’t she just relying on those Wendao Pills?”
“What’s wrong with Wendao Pills? You come from humble origins and can’t even afford them yourself. Why sulk here?”
“You!”
Tempers flared, and two cultivators rolled up their sleeves, ready to fight. Just then, the door of the Jinque Tower was suddenly kicked open.
The gathered disciples stared in surprise as the doorframe collapsed with a cloud of dust. Bai Luoluo’s brows knitted, eyes bloodshot and cold. She said icily, “Where are Zhuo Qingyuan and Lang Cui?”
The cultivator present trembled nervously. “Shixiong is upstairs.”
Bai Luoluo gripped her sword and stormed up the stairs. She seemed more like hunting for blood than looking for someone.
Lang Cui was coughing uncontrollably. Zhuo Qingyuan poured him some tea and asked, puzzled, “Xiao Cui, be more careful. You haven’t taken Xu Youyu’s pills yet?”
Tears welled in Lang Cui’s eyes. He waved his hand feebly; veins stood out faintly on his neck.
Bang—
The door was kicked open again.
The two looked up in surprise to see a white-clad young woman standing in the doorway, sword in hand, sweeping a glance over them. “Hiding here makes it easier for me to find both of you.”
Zhuo Qingyuan rose at once, stepping in front of Lang Cui. “Senior shijie, what are you doing?”
Bai Luoluo pointed her sword at them, fingers trembling slightly, a low laugh escaping her. “Doing? If it weren’t for your rotten schemes, I wouldn’t have ended up like this! Mother has gone into seclusion, ignoring me!”
Zhuo Qingyuan twisted the corner of his mouth into a forced smile. “Shijie, we accounted for everything. The Sword Immortal and Dragon Might Swordmaster are certainly not home, but our elder’s ties with her aren’t strong enough…”
Bai Luoluo drew her sword and slashed mercilessly. “Still talking? Didn’t you call Xue Cuo a fool and that I could beat him with ease?”
Zhuo Qingyuan raised his sword to block, fearing she might hit Lang Cui. When he looked back, Lang Cui had slipped aside.
The two fought fiercely, but Lang Cui barely minded. He coughed twice and slipped away from the Jinque Tower behind the curtain.
Lang Cui returned to his cave on Tianquan Mountain. Born prematurely aged, he had lived alone since childhood and had taken up pill-making. After taking his medicine and easing his cough, he picked up a flying message from the table.
The message was full of news of his elder brother’s latest breakthrough, and ended briefly with the news that a Dao partner had been arranged for Lang Cui. She was a disciple of the Taiyi Sect and the elder’s second daughter.
If he survived, he could marry into the Spiritual Domain Realm.
Lang Cui tossed the message into the pill furnace.
He opened the restriction seal, creating a small crack in space leading to a miniature world. Inside, Xu Youyu sat before a chessboard. Lang Cui relaxed somewhat and leaned in for a better look.
Xu Youyu asked, “Fellow Daoist, fancy a game?”
Tired of fighting and unable to escape, Lang Cui didn’t do anything to him, sometimes even joining in for a game.
Xu Youyu was calm by nature.
Lang Cui sat opposite him. They played several rounds; Lang Cui won every time, and Xu Youyu was growing numb with defeat.
Lang Cui lifted a corner of his mouth, pleased with himself. Xu Youyu sighed and asked, “Fellow Daoist, did you lock me in here just to have me play chess and relieve your boredom?”
Lang Cui glanced up slowly and began to collect the chess pieces with a soft click.
He coughed twice and said suddenly, “I won’t kill you, but there’s more than one who wants to.”
Xu Youyu’s expression turned serious. “What do you mean?”
Lang Cui picked up pieces one by one and finally muttered, “The leeks have grown long enough. Time to harvest.”
Xu Youyu frowned. “Leeks?”
But Lang Cui said nothing more, continuing to gather the pieces silently.
Xu Youyu: “Another game?”
Lang Cui nodded contentedly.
A night passed.
Xue Cuo’s name spread throughout Fei’e Palace. With the strength of a Spirit Realm Stage cultivator, he had defeated a Original Void Realm senior shijie, and his connections were deep. By all accounts, he was a prodigy destined to seize the fate of heaven and earth.
A pity he didn’t practice swordsmanship. Otherwise, with such talent and connections, becoming an immortal and pursuing the Dao would be only a matter of time!
Such a pity!
Xue Cuo knew nothing of this. He slept soundly through the night and woke yawning for morning class.
Besides attending Daoism lectures in Fei’e Palace, disciples were required to visit Zhuxia Palace to observe Dao methods and study combat techniques.
As he stepped into Zhuxia Palace, someone remarked, “Fu Xiu? When you and I spar, I’ll make him look good!”
