“Why so quiet?” Nan Rao chuckled. “No need to be so guarded. After all these years, don’t you know how I treat you?”
Ying Ze Wei seemed to awaken from deep thoughts, his gaze softening. “You’re too kind, Lady Rao. Since you’ve personally invited me, I… I’ll certainly attend.”
“Excellent. Yi Gu’s been running off to the North Sea lately to compose new music. That place is heavy with demonic energy and unsuitable for long stays. Your presence would be perfect to discuss this with him…”
As Nan Rao rambled on, she noticed Shao Cang’s calligraphy practice on the desk. Picking it up, she first praised the child’s handwriting, then asked curiously, “I see the other children writing Confucian classics, but why is this child studying legends of the netherworld?”
Ying Ze Wei casually collected Shao Cang’s writing, explaining, “The Dao Tian Upper Masters have high hopes for Shao Cang. Naturally, I want him to be well-versed in both ancient and modern knowledge.”
As Nan Rao was about to continue chatting, a Dao Sheng Tian cultivator bowed outside the classroom. Ying Ze Wei excused himself to speak with the cultivator.
Nan Rao overheard mentions of Fan State and Hui Valley. She then nudged the sulking Mo Xing Zhen with her toe.
“Little one, still upset? Is it because your senior brother outperforms you in everything?”
Mo Xing Zhen, cheeks puffed, grumbled, “I thought Master made him study Confucianism and Taoism, so he couldn’t play with us. But it was just for that bird! He ignores us now that he has that chubby bird!”
Nan Rao laughed heartily, then said, “Your senior brother is exceptional, so your master naturally wants him to learn more. But wouldn’t studying Buddhism be better for cultivating peace of mind at this age, rather than Confucianism and Taoism?”
Mo Xing Zhen shook his head. “Master forbids us from touching Buddhism.”
Intrigued, Nan Rao asked, “Oh? Why’s that?”
When Mo Xing Zhen covered his mouth, refusing to speak, Nan Rao offered him some Yin State candy to bribe him. “Come on, tell me. I won’t let your master know.”
Easily won over, Mo Xing Zhen revealed, “Last month, I saw a senior brother find a monk’s manuscript from Mao State in a corner of the library. He read it for three days and nights, then asked Master questions, saying some ideas in it made more sense than the Dao Venerable’s teachings. Master seemed angry. He not only punished senior brother by making him copy ‘Winter’s Essence’ 500 times but also cleared out the library, burning all the Buddhist and Taoist books.”
Nan Rao’s expression froze. She’d never heard of Mao State offending Zi State. “Which monk’s work was it?” she inquired.
As Mo Xing Zhen was about to answer, Ying Ze Wei called from outside, “Xing Zhen, if you don’t return now, you won’t finish your homework for tomorrow.”
Mo Xing Zhen responded quickly, bowed to Nan Rao, and hurried away with his books.
As the children’s footsteps and chatter faded, the rich sunset light filtered through the carved windows, casting the teacher in a half-light that made the immortal sect momentarily resemble an ordinary private school.
“Will Lady Rao be staying for a few days?” he asked.
Nan Rao stepped down from the desk. “No need. You always seem uncomfortable when I’m around.”
“No… Why would you think that, Lady Rao?”
For a long time, Nan Rao had been puzzled about how she might have offended Ying Ze Wei. She thought perhaps her wild behavior in those years had displeased this man who valued propriety. After holding back for so long, she turned and opened her heart.
“When I’m here, your expression is always so formal and proper, but to me, it looks like self-torture.”
The pain festering in her chest began to surge again. Before the backlit figure walked away, Ying Ze Wei heard:
“I’m not complaining. As long as you still enjoy my wine, we’re still friends.”
…
“Senior Brother! You must have finished your homework. Come out and play!”
“Senior Brother, are you there? That phoenix feather is still with Master. He said you should collect it when you have time.”
“Little fatty… oops, I mean, what’s so fun about that chubby bird? Let’s go catch ghostfish at the Soul River Waterfall!”
The banging on the door outside lasted only half a cup of tea’s time before the junior disciples scattered, scolded by the night patrol cultivator.
Shao Cang peeked out the window, then returned to his bed and lifted a small basket lined with soft padding. Inside lay a blue and yellow tit, sleeping soundly on its back amidst some snack crumbs.
Shao Cang gazed at the bird for a long time before carefully removing the bandage from its leg. He triple-checked against the medical book to confirm the bird had healed. Then he cupped the bird in his hands, waiting until the soft, smooth ball of feathers nestled in his palm and opened its beady black eyes, chirping once. Shao Cang’s expression grew even more serious.
“All good things must come to an end,” Shao Cang tried to convince himself for the sixth time this month. He remembered when he first found the tit, it was small and delicate. But after a month, it had become plump and round. If he couldn’t control his feeding, he would surely die of obesity sooner or later.
After a long self-reflection facing the wall, Shao Cang carried the bird out of his quarters. He found a picturesque spot by the woods and set the bird on the ground, then turned away. “You can go now.”
The tit fluttered its wings vigorously, actually managing to fly up half a foot before dropping back down and rolling at Shao Cang’s feet, chirping pitifully.
— All good things must come to an end, but perhaps tomorrow would be better for endings.
Shao Cang picked up the bird just as he overheard two-night patrol cultivators passing by, discussing the day’s events.
“… Did you see the Nan Fang Zhu?”
“I did. She’s truly a peerless beauty. I could barely walk. I don’t understand why Xuan Zai gave up that marriage back then.”
“The Nan Fang Zhu used to give our old Dao Venerable such headaches. But now Xuan Zai’s disciple has brought honor, even winning a phoenix feather. That’s from the tail of the Phoenix Lord in Yin State, shed only once a decade. If other birds absorb it, they gain a trace of the phoenix bloodline. Even a common chicken could become a spirit beast.”
Shao Cang listened intently from behind the tree. He looked down at the plump tit that could barely fly, and his gaze grew determined.
The disciples’ quarters were quite far from the Floating Mountain where the Sect Master and Dao Tian Upper Masters resided. Fortunately, Shao Cang had been given great importance since joining Dao Sheng Tian, and most sect restrictions didn’t apply to him. After walking for nearly half an hour, he reached the bamboo grove in front of his master’s residence, just in time to see Ying Ze Wei leaving.
“Master?” Shao Cang watched from afar as Ying Ze Wei entered a side path. Normally, at this distance, his master would have noticed him, but now he seemed oblivious.
The only explanation was… he had sealed his spiritual power, temporarily becoming mortal.
Curiosity piqued, Shao Cang followed. Soon, he saw Ying Ze Wei enter the Ming Spring Hall in the back mountain.
On his first day at Dao Sheng Tian, Shao Cang had been brought here to have his soul imprinted. His master had personally carved his name on a destiny jade, preserved in this hall.
Not all disciples received such honor. Shao Cang later learned its significance—he was to become his master’s successor, supporting Dao Sheng Tian’s world.
Shao Cang waited outside briefly. When Ying Ze Wei didn’t emerge, he climbed the steps and peered through the bronze doors’ crack. He saw Ying Ze Wei kneeling before the Dao Venerable’s statue.
In the flickering candlelight, the stone statue lost the kindness Shao Cang remembered from his first visit, appearing cold and solemn.
Kneeling, Ying Ze Wei spoke: “Unfilial disciple…”
Shao Cang was startled, thinking he meant him, but realized Ying Ze Wei was referring to himself.
“Unfilial disciple Ying Ze Wei, with an unstable Dao heart, fallen prey to inner demons, unable to sever emotions, kneels to request… Dao Venerable’s punishment.”
The statue emitted a harsh hum. A hazy elder figure appeared before it, raising his hand to summon three sword-like shadows. A voice of supreme authority spoke:
“You are Dao Sheng Tian’s Sect Master.”
As he spoke, the first sword flew straight at Ying Ze Wei. Blood instantly blossomed from his back, shocking Shao Cang.
“Master?”
Ying Ze Wei seemed unaffected, echoing the Dao Venerable’s apparition: “I am Dao Sheng Tian’s Sect Master.”
Almost immediately, the second sword pierced his heart.
“You are the World Teacher,” the Dao Venerable continued.
“I am the World Teacher,” Ying Ze Wei repeated.
As the third sword trembled, Shao Cang nearly rushed in but was held back by an invisible force. He could only watch helplessly as the third sword brutally penetrated his master’s body.
The Dao Venerable’s voice was cold and stern: “You don’t belong to yourself. You belong to Dao Sheng Tian! To the world! To the Nine Hells of Fengdu!”
Blood stained the green bricks as Ying Ze Wei’s hair visibly turned gray. He chuckled softly, then prostrated himself.
“Ying Ze Wei has no self, no name, no mortal life… I belong to the Heavenly Dao. I will become immortal, become a god, extending the cultivation world’s life by ten thousand years…”
…
“I once feared my master greatly. I didn’t want to become someone like him,” Qi Yang said, extinguishing the candle as he recounted past events to Nan Yan aboard the flying ship. The clear night sky, with its shifting constellations and moonlight, streamed through the window.
“Have you always wondered why I call him ‘Teacher’?”
“The Dao Tian Heart Sutra created by the Dao Venerable requires advanced practitioners to compare themselves to the vast sky. The less worldly attachments during cultivation, the better. Whether it’s romantic love or familial bonds, all must be severed in the end. Otherwise, one suffers greatly, tormented daily by inner demons. Like Teacher, who reached the pinnacle but was not far from madness.”
“As I narrate, you might think he had a hint of innocence, but simultaneously, he was most clear-headed when killing, more ruthless than the world’s worst villains. With so much joy and sorrow in the human world, who has time to forgive such an evildoer?”
Nan Yan’s sleeves had dried several times, her nose slightly red as she asked hoarsely, “If his heart was set on the Nine Hells and he didn’t fear death, why did he… why did he take my mother’s heart?”
“The Nine Hells of Fengdu are not as simple as people imagine. Becoming the Lord of Fengdu is akin to becoming a god of a realm, controlling the sea of souls with one’s power… Even after overcoming the five declines of celestial beings, one remains mortal. To rule the Nine Springs, one must first become an immortal or a god.”
Nan Yan looked at Qi Yang with reddened eyes: “Did he take your heart too?”
“The Six Harmonies Dao Heart was left by the Dao Venerable. I guess… the Dao Venerable probably didn’t succeed in ascending and may have willingly died at the Teacher’s hands. When I entered the sect at nine, the Teacher gave me the Dao Venerable’s Six Harmonies Dao Heart—”
“And when you nurtured it to completion, he…” Nan Yan said bitterly, “Took it?”
What kind of person could kill their master, harm friends, murder disciples, and sever all mortal ties, leaving only an empty shell of schemes?
Nan Yan, now frightened, said, “Shao Cang.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want you to die. Let it go.”
“And you? Can you let it go?”
Nan Yan fell silent. Qi Yang smiled slightly. Back in Fan State, he had thought about living quietly with Nan Yan in a secluded place, but in the end, he knew… if he let go of his hatred, he could no longer protect her.
“Buddhists always say that letting go brings peace, but in reality, there’s no choice but life or death… You should forget this part. Don’t let Dao Sheng Tian’s people find any flaws in the Mountain Sea Forbidden Technique.”
Qi Yang had Nan Yan lie on his lap and began drawing a charm, about to place it on her forehead when she gently blocked his hand.
“I have one last question,” Nan Yan said, looking into his eyes.
“Yes?”
“What happened to that tit you raised?”
The Buddhist girl’s dark eyes on his lap seemed to reflect the moonlight outside.
“Later, in its third year with me, it died. I buried it at the Soul River Waterfall and made a wish… If it reincarnates someday, I hope it will stay with me, free from illness and never leaving my side.”