Guarding the Prison for 100 Years, I Emerge to Overwhelm the Demon Venerable

Not long after Su Bai departed.

Xiao Wuming entered the private room, his heart filled with a slight apprehension.

"Hm? Where is that senior?"

But upon actually entering the room, he was stunned to find that Su Bai seemed to have already left.

"Brother Xiao, you’re a step too late."

The Master of Fulong Temple, who had been sitting by the Jade Table drinking alone, glanced at Xiao Wuming upon hearing the commotion.

He took a sip of the sweet, slightly spicy wine and then said, "That senior has already departed."

"He really is gone..."

Xiao Wuming walked over, sat down beside the Master of Fulong Temple, and sighed.

Originally, after resolving the matters at the Ling County Mansion, he had rushed over to the restaurant without a moment’s rest. His goal was to pay a visit to Su Bai and thank him in person.

It seemed he had missed his chance.

"Brother Xiao!"

Suddenly, a curious look appeared on his face, and he couldn’t help but ask, "How much do you know about that senior?"

"That senior..."

The Master of Fulong Temple mused for a moment, then began with a light chuckle.

"Then let me start by telling you the story of how that senior subdued a Dragon single-handedly at my Fulong Daoist Temple..."

...

Now, about ten days remained of Su Bai’s half-month vacation.

The journey back was long, so Su Bai simply boarded a medium-sized boat, planning to drift aimlessly for a few days.

The boatman was a hunched old man in a straw raincoat, smoking a long-stemmed pipe. Also on board was a scholar in a white robe, accompanied by a little girl.

And this scholar was quite the conversationalist.

Along the way, he shared various anecdotes, interesting tidbits, and ancient legends with Su Bai.

Just now, the scholar had finished telling a story about the "Ancient Qixia Sect" and followed up with a smile.

"Senior, what did you think of that story?"

"The story was grand and the characters many, but it wasn’t particularly interesting."

"Haha! To think, Senior, that your thoughts are the same as mine!"

The white-robed scholar continued with a hearty laugh, "I have a younger cousin who loves listening to my stories. He especially loves these kinds of myths and legends. The grander the story, the more mythical figures, the more it’s filled with gods and buddhas, the more he likes it!"

"To each their own. It’s only natural."

"Well said!"

"What kind of story would you like to hear, Senior?"

"Something a little more clever."

Seeing that the scholar’s throat was getting dry, Su Bai suggested, "You should rest for a bit."

"Haha! Senior, don’t you worry."

But the white-robed scholar said freely, "I plan to compile these stories into a volume. How could I pass up such a fine opportunity to recount them to someone?"

"Besides, when one is traveling, every meeting is fated. It’s best to be spontaneous and go with the flow."

"That makes sense."

So Su Bai didn’t stop him, letting him continue on to the next story.

Meanwhile, his gaze fell upon the little girl at the side.

The little girl was listening to their stories while leaning over the side of the boat, her small hands playfully splashing in the clear water, her face beaming with joy.

Suddenly, she seemed to be drawn by a glint of light in the water. She leaned forward a bit more, resting on the boat’s edge, her big, dark eyes wide as she tried to get a closer look.

And beneath the river’s surface, a massive dark shadow seemed to be swimming slowly.

Su Bai tapped his finger on the wooden gunwale, catching the little girl’s attention. He then smiled gently and reminded her to be careful and not play in the water.

Only after the girl placed her small hands on her lap and sat obediently back inside the boat did he feel at ease.

Glancing at the river again, the massive dark shadow was now motionless, sinking slowly to the bottom.

...

The boat didn’t just drift on the river all day; every night, it had to be moored ashore.

Occasionally, they would come across a ferry crossing or a village, and the old boatman would ask for their opinions on making a temporary stop, either to replenish their food supplies or simply because his old bones needed a night’s rest.

At the various ferry crossings, there were often women selling snacks and pastries. Whenever he saw something he liked, Su Bai would buy some to add a little flavor to his journey.

And the old boatman had been right; eating a meal or two on the boat was fine, but if you ate too many, you were bound to get tired of it.

Fortunately, before leaving Ling County, Su Bai had brought along some fruits and candied preserves.

So his palate hadn’t grown too bored.

Before he knew it, the small boat had been drifting for five days.

As they neared Pingjiang County, the scenery on both banks changed noticeably.

There were wide-open plains along the banks. Though somewhat pitted and uneven, the fields themselves were flat, covered in a sea of brilliant golden rapeseed flowers.

It was early spring, and the flowers were in full bloom. When a gentle breeze swept through, it looked like a wave of liquid gold, rippling with the wind.

The wind itself was dyed with the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

And across the land rose countless peculiar hills. They were mostly clustered together, different from ordinary hills; they were strange in shape, pale white all over like bamboo shoots in spring, with relatively smooth sides that made them difficult for people to climb.

Countless such hills blocked the horizon. From a distance, they layered one upon another, a forest of mountains like a silvery-white curtain veiling the heavens and the earth.

As far as the eye could see, there was no sign of human life.

If you were to say this was the domain of a Demon Country, many would likely believe you.

"We’ve reached Pingjiang County!"

The old boatman said with a cheerful laugh as he poled the boat, "The mountains in Pingjiang County are just like this, one mound after another, like bamboo shoots."

"We call ’em Bamboo Shoot Mountains amongst ourselves. Can’t climb most of ’em. No steps on the sides, just smooth rock. If you want to get up, you have to go through the middle."

"They’re quite beautiful."

"Everyone says so."

"Are there any of these Bamboo Shoot Mountains that can be climbed?"

"Of course there are!"

The old boatman’s weathered brown face, crisscrossed with ravines carved by time, broke into a smile as he said:

"You can go to Qingshui County, sir. The Bamboo Shoot Mountains in Qingshui County are the most beautiful. When you get there, just ask around, and you’ll naturally find out how to enjoy them!"

"Thank you, Old Sir."

Su Bai stood at the bow, gazing at the passing scenery.

The sun was setting. It sank slowly westward, dipping first behind the forest of bamboo-like mountains and ravines long before it reached the horizon.

The last rays of light slanted down from the jagged, uneven peaks, a pale gold, so clear you could see the shape of the light itself.

Like spilt golden wine, scattered across the land.

Half of the river’s surface was a reflection of mountains and light. A hunched old man in a straw raincoat and hat poled the boat forward, while a young man in a white robe stood at the bow.

Across the entire river, only this small boat moved through the scene.

"We should reach our destination by tonight at the latest!"

"Good."

The old man poled the boat, leisurely taking a puff from his pipe. Caught up in the moment, he even began to sing a cheerful song.

Su Bai’s Heart Spirit grew tranquil, and his mood, like the mountains and the scenery, became beautiful.

"Old Sir!"

"Aye, I’m listenin’!"

"Shouldn’t we be preparing dinner?"

"You’re right, sir! I’ll find a place to moor right now!"

"I have some candied preserves and fragrant fruits here. Let’s have them with your cooking and all try them together."

"Alrighty!"

And so, amidst the myriad mountains, upon the Bi River, under the dim yellow light of dusk, another wisp of cooking smoke appeared.

A wisp of smoke full of human warmth.

After dinner, as night began to fall, the boat continued its journey.

Su Bai borrowed the old man’s fishing rod, wore a coir cape the old man had given him, and sat at the bow.

Before him, a chill rose from the river. The misty waves were silent, the surroundings quiet. Occasionally, a white crane would fly across the sky, its form mirrored in the twilight-hued water.

The fishing line extended into the water, occasionally creating faint ripples that were nearly imperceptible in the hazy mist.

Su Bai paid it no mind, sitting there peacefully.

As the night deepened, the boat continued to sail, and Su Bai lay down for a short rest.

The small boat drifted into Qingshui County Town.

Lanterns hung at the ferry crossing; pedestrians carried boxes and bags.

He opened his eyes again.

A spring breeze for ten miles, the lights of ten thousand homes.

Before he knew it, his light skiff had passed ten thousand mountains.