“Won’t you keep them as a memento?”

“What memento? When a person dies, it’s like a lamp going out. If you can’t ascend to heaven, you deserve to suffer in the mortal world. That husk—what use is it? If not for respecting Master Tian, I wouldn’t have even dragged out the corpse. These are just a few stones. I’ve heard they’re very auspicious things—I’ll give them to your younger sisters as dowries.”

Li Tai anxiously rubbed his hands together. His father’s birthday was approaching, and he was worrying about a gift. The items before his eyes were the best possible gift—both auspicious and precious, something that could be encountered but not sought. As for whether the relics came from an eminent monk or from Tian Xiangzi made no difference to him.

“If you like them, take two. Look at yourself—aren’t you ashamed?” Seeing Li Tai in agony, wanting them but unable to ask, Yun Ye spoke up to help him out, lest he later do something bandit-like that would be embarrassing.

After taking a large gulp of wine, Xi Tong wiped his mouth and continued, “I don’t know how you and your teacher went there back then. That godforsaken place—for half a year straight it was nighttime. There was just a pale streak at the horizon, forever looking like dawn was about to break. When the wind blew over, it was like small knives cutting flesh. I heard ghost cries—wailing incessantly, circling around you.”

Li Tai listened with saliva dripping. This was the child’s problem—whatever he hadn’t experienced, he was interested in knowing about. Though his temperament was proud, when encountering a master, this fellow could absolutely humble himself. Using serving chopsticks, he continuously served food to Xi Tong, and kept the wine cup full, attending to him thoroughly. After the food in his mouth had been swallowed, he slapped his thigh and continued speaking.

“Snow didn’t fall from the sky, but whirlwinds picked up snow particles from the ground and drove them into your clothing seams. If you hadn’t told us in advance that clothes should have no gaps and all places should be tightened with straps, more than half the people would have died in the white snow. The cold was still bearable—just build a snow house and it’s fine. Those seals you mentioned are foolishly all over the beach. Catch two and boil them for oil to light fires—not bad at all. Those things are full of fat, though the meat is too fishy and not tasty.”

Yun Ye’s face was full of misery. Xi Tong spoke lightly, but the actual circumstances must have been extremely dire. He himself had been unable to bear the cold on the grasslands, let alone in the polar regions that were several times colder than the grasslands. Li Tai didn’t touch the food before him, filled with longing for the things Xi Tong was describing.

A chicken leg went into his mouth and came out as a bare bone. Using his chopsticks to point at the fish on the plate, he said, “You once said there was a kun fish in this world. I thought it was nonsense. When passing through the Storm Sea, there were huge water spouts on the sea surface. I thought it was a monster. Who knew a huge expanse of seawater was being churned up? Taking advantage of the brief daylight each day to look—my god, it was such an enormous fish.”

As he spoke, he stretched out both arms, but perhaps feeling this wasn’t enough to explain the fish’s size, he pointed at the Yun Family’s small building, indicating it was that big.

“A fish as big as a building?” Li Tai felt this was somewhat unbelievable and expressed his doubt.

“Dream on—the building-sized part was just the fish head.” Xi Tong glanced dismissively at Li Tai, quite disapproving of his small-minded thinking.

“Pardon me for saying something you might not like, but I feel like you’re making up stories.” Li Tai was very brave. Though Xi Tong’s appearance was frightening, he still boldly voiced his doubts.

Xi Tong had probably boasted to others before with no one believing him, leaving him helpless. Now with a witness, naturally his enthusiasm soared. He pointed at Yun Ye and said, “If you don’t believe me, ask him.” Li Tai turned his suspicious face toward Yun Ye.

“Xi Tong is right. This isn’t even the largest fish. What does this building amount to? As far as I know, there’s a type of giant whale that can produce ambergris, called the sperm whale. Just after birth, they’re already two or three zhang long. Adult sperm whales are fully seven or eight zhang long, weighing at least a hundred thousand jin. And another kind called the blue whale—one tongue alone weighs six or seven thousand jin. So Xi Tong saying he saw fish bigger than buildings really isn’t anything special.”

Li Tai cupped his hands and apologized to Xi Tong, then filled his wine cup. Xi Tong raised his eyebrows proudly and drained it in one gulp, then continued, “We walked for a long time and never saw the aurora you mentioned. Many people said you had deceived us and wanted to come back and tear you to shreds. Master Tian said there was no need—since the polar night and giant whales you mentioned had all appeared, there was no reason white bears and auroras wouldn’t appear. He told everyone to be patient and not anxious. Who knew…”

At this point, Xi Tong choked up and couldn’t speak. Li Tai unhesitatingly offered his handkerchief, hoping only that Xi Tong would stop his grief and continue telling stories.

After sobbing a few times, Xi Tong said with a bitter smile, “Everyone was doubting, but who knew that in the very next moment we would encounter a white bear. A body weighing one or two thousand jin pounced over and started biting. Old Zhou didn’t even have time to resist before being sat on to death. Old Liang was famous for having iron sinews and bronze bones, but who knew—just one slap, one slap and he was sent flying beyond sight. By the time we worked together to kill the white bear and found Old Liang again, his chest was pressed flat against his back, his internal organs spilled out through his mouth. So tragic! After that, no one talked about settling accounts with you anymore.”

Li Tai crunched on beans. This kind of story suited his taste perfectly. Even Old Qian, who had come to serve dishes, was entranced by the listening and lingered nearby, refusing to leave, saying that having no one attending would look bad.

Another large piece of pig heart entered his mouth. Xi Tong drank a mouthful of tea, found it delicious, took another sip before putting it down and continuing, “When I parted with Marquis Yun, I promised to bring him some furs from there. Fortunately, I later found a good method for killing bears, which reduced casualties. In the bundle are the pelts of five white bears I brought for you—that settles a matter weighing on my heart.”

Li Tai stood up and ran to the bundle, untied it, and had Old Qian help him spread out the bear pelts. Whoa! Li Tai exclaimed in admiration. When spread out, the enormous white bear pelt measured five chi in circumference. One could imagine how huge this bear had been when alive. One or two thousand jin—what Xi Tong said was definitely modest.

“Don’t even think about asking for them. Two of these I’m going to present to His Majesty to obtain a pardon document for Xi Tong. He’s going to settle down now, no longer drifting about, so an identity document is very important. The rest I’m going to auction off to raise some funds to add new experimental equipment for you all. So, don’t even open your mouth.”

Hearing Yun Ye say this, Li Tai muttered, “I can also issue such documents—no need to specifically find my father, right?”

“Nonsense! How can what you issue compare to what His Majesty issues? This concerns Xi Tong’s lifelong affairs—it must be issued by His Majesty to count. Remember this matter and don’t interfere. You don’t understand what Tian Xiangzi represents.”

Seeing this, Old Qian immediately rolled up the bear pelts, shouldered the bundle, and ran to the back courtyard. Hadn’t he heard the guest say these were gifts promised to the Marquis? If he didn’t take them away now and the Prince took a liking to them, there would be one or two fewer—how much money would that be? Besides, the young mistress was still waiting to hear the news—what kind of guest had arrived that made such a fuss they specially called her down from the mountain.

Xi Tong asked Yun Ye thoughtfully, “Marquis Yun, you say these bear pelts will be extremely valuable?”

“Of course. Fur has always honored white as supreme. Even one or two white tigers appearing is considered auspicious—though that fur is merely a product of albinism, somewhat sicklily white. The white bear pelts you brought are white with luster and are products of the extreme north, so one pelt being worth several thousand strings of cash is no problem. If sent to auction and encountered by a household with special uses, selling for ten thousand strings wouldn’t be strange.”

“Marquis Yun, if next year I bring another ten pelts and entrust you to sell them, could they be exchanged for a lot of grain and daily necessities?” Xi Tong opened his eyes wide, looking at Yun Ye and waiting for his answer.

“If it’s within my Great Tang’s borders, there will be no problem whatsoever. If it’s a foreign tribe, grain and iron implements won’t be allowed to be transported out, no matter how much money there is.”

Yun Ye took this matter very seriously. On Xi Tong’s return journey, he would have passed through Goguryeo and Mohe territory. These two countries and peoples were places the Great Tang must conquer. Yun Ye wouldn’t allow any future troubles to be left behind.

“It’s in Hebei Circuit—all subjects of the Great Tang. If they were Goguryeo people or wild tribes, I’d have died long ago and then some.” Xi Tong seemed somewhat shy—it must be something related to women.

“If they’re Great Tang subjects, when you leave, take as much grain as you want. The Yun Family and Cheng Family have merchant caravans going to Hebei—they can take it along. Hurry up and tell the rest—we’re waiting to hear.”

Li Tai forcibly suppressed his disappointment at not getting the bear pelts and sat down to continue listening to Xi Tong’s story.

“Marquis Yun, there really is five-colored radiant light in this world, flowing like waves from the horizon, like a colored path. We followed the flow of the radiance, moving from left to right, from front to back, until the radiance dissipated and the midnight sun arrived, never finding a way to enter.”

“Many people quietly died at this time. When only Master Tian and I remained, he still refused to give up. Finally, in a beautiful sea of flowers, he regretfully closed his eyes. To his death, he was grateful to you, Marquis Yun. You brought him so close to his dream—only a step away. He just didn’t understand where exactly he went wrong that made the White Jade Capital close all its doors to him.”

“Before the radiance disappeared, he repented of his sins and vowed that in his next life he would definitely not kill a single person, not harm a single life, and start over. I believe in his next life he will definitely ascend that great path of radiance.”

Tian Xiangzi had actually long since gone mad. From the first time they met, Yun Ye knew this was a rational madman. His powerful intellect allowed him to forcibly lock all his madness in the depths of his heart. Once it reached the point where intellect could no longer suppress it, only heaven knew what he might do or what he could do. If it erupted, the harm to the Great Tang could potentially be fatal.

Such a person wouldn’t stop his mad footsteps without being given a lofty goal. As it happened, the White Jade Capital met all conditions, the North Pole met all conditions—so let him contend with heaven. If he truly succeeded in ascending to heaven, Yun Ye would burn incense and pray for him. At that point, Tian Xiangzi would be the Jade Emperor’s trouble, not his own. It appeared he hadn’t succeeded.

Li Tai was so shocked he put his finger in his mouth and bit it, excited about knowing the greatest secret between heaven and earth. At this moment, he seemed to see himself standing atop the highest clouds overlooking the earth, and he himself was a god. Tian Xiangzi had failed because he himself was too stupid—seeing hope yet making no progress was the ultimate manifestation of incompetence and stupidity. If I, Li Tai, reached that point, failure would be absolutely impossible.

Yun Ye looked at Li Tai with profound meaning. Clever people all had the same problem—looking down on others, always believing they would certainly succeed. Hadn’t Tian Xiangzi died taking his last breath in the wasteland while harboring the same thoughts?