Chapter 313 - 296: Xuan Ling
"Back then, you secretly gifted me the *Master of Profound Mysteries* technique. It was a great boon to my early cultivation. Today, I demanded you from Black Mountain, which can be considered repaying the favor from back then."
Qi Yun’s tone was calm, without a ripple of emotion, as if he were merely recounting a perfectly ordinary past event.
He casually pointed to the stone stool opposite him, gesturing for Xuan Ling to sit.
He then picked up the teapot himself and poured a cup of fragrant Spirit Tea for the man across from him. The swirling steam blurred the look in his eyes.
"The debt between us is now cleared.
From now on, whether you stay or leave, which path you walk—it is entirely up to you."
Xuan Ling stood rooted to the spot, the fingers hidden in his sleeves unconsciously curling.
He looked at the steaming cup of Spirit Tea on the stone stool, then raised his eyes to the calm, youthful face across from him, his heart reeling with inexpressible shock.
’*Master of Profound Mysteries*... That was a long, long time ago.’
’Such "casual gifts" were not isolated incidents in his long career of service.’
’Black Mountain had countless subordinates, and he had seen too many faces that were either flashes in the pan or faded into mediocrity. Tossing out some trivial resources was sometimes to foster good karma, and sometimes just out of habit.’
’He never imagined that a "seed" could, a century later, grow into a towering tree capable of shaking a Great Master’s authority—and still remember such a minor favor.’
"Back then... I only gave it to you casually, but you..." Xuan Ling opened his mouth, his voice a little hoarse.
’What he had done was nothing compared to the power and courage Qi Yun had shown today. The difference was greater than that between heaven and earth!’
’This "repayment" was too heavy.’
"Say no more." Qi Yun waved a hand gently, cutting him off.
Those calm eyes looked over, clear and resolute.
"A drop of kindness is repaid with a gushing spring.
This is the principle by which I operate. How others view the weight of the matter is irrelevant."
He paused, picked up his own teacup, and took a sip. His tone shifted to a casual inquiry, as if he were chatting with an old friend:
"Daoist Friend Xuan Ling, now that you’ve escaped your cage, what are your plans for the future?"
"Uh... My plans are..."
The question jolted Xuan Ling from his shock and emotion, plunging him into a state of genuine confusion.
’Plans?’
’Everything that had happened today, like a sudden tempest, had violently thrown him from his familiar, oppressive track.’
’He had fantasized about this day, escaping Black Mountain’s control, meticulously sketching it out with hatred and longing during countless quiet nights.’
’But when the day actually arrived in such a dramatic, even slightly absurd manner, all the paths he had previously imagined suddenly became blurry and indistinct, like viewing flowers through a fog.’
’Go home?’
’The word flashed through his mind, only to evoke an icy, deathly silence and a sharp pang of pain.’
’His "home"—the family that had once been full of warm laughter, connected by blood—had long ago been wiped from the face of the earth with thunderous brutality by that Great Master, all because of a "slip-up" during one of his missions.’
’His family’s manor was reduced to scorched earth, their souls left to wander.’
’In this vast world, he no longer had a place to call home.’
’Besides, was he truly safe and free now?’
’What kind of person was Black Mountain Master?’
’Vengeful over the smallest slight, with an extreme desire for control.’
’Today, under the watchful eyes of all, he had been forced to bow his head by Lord Bai and had one of his own men taken by Qi Yun. How could he possibly swallow such an insult?’
’As the "taken" former subordinate, he was likely already on the Master’s kill list.’
’If he left Qi Yun’s protection, where in the vast Northwest—or even the entire Cultivation Realm—could he possibly fend off the secret machinations of an enraged Great Master?’
’He was trapped, with a dark and uncertain path ahead.’
Just then, his chaotic thoughts suddenly settled, and his gaze involuntarily locked onto the composed young Daoist across from him.
An almost instinctual thought, like a torch suddenly lit in the darkness, illuminated his dim path forward and seared the century-old blood feud and resentment buried in his heart.
THUD!
With almost no hesitation, Xuan Ling’s knees buckled. He dropped before Qi Yun, kowtowing with his forehead to the ground. His words were clear, each one heavy as a mountain:
"I, Xuan Ling, am unworthy! My life is like drifting duckweed, my blood feud remains unavenged, and my path forward is cut off!"
He raised his head, his gaze burning as he stared directly at Qi Yun. The defiance and deep-seated hatred that had been suppressed for years now surged in his eyes like molten lava:
"The Black Mountain Demon enslaved my body, destroyed my home, and annihilated my clan!
For this enmity, this hatred, we cannot live under the same sky!
I know my own Cultivation is shallow, and I fear I will never be able to avenge myself in this lifetime..."
He paused, took a deep breath, and gambled his every hope, his very life, on his next words:
"But you, Daoist Friend, are like a hidden dragon emerging from the abyss—an unstoppable force.
I, Xuan Ling, am willing to offer this broken body of mine to follow you and serve you faithfully until death!
All I ask is that one day, I can witness that old demon’s execution with my own eyes and see a blood debt paid in blood.
I implore you, Daoist Friend... take me in!"
If his previous thoughts of reliance, born of his predicament, had still been tinged with calculation,
then these words now tore away all pretense, laying his rawest, most blood-soaked hatred and his most humble plea bare for Qi Yun to see.
The courtyard fell silent. Only the whisper of wind through the pines and the clear chime of a Jade Bell could be heard.
The hand Qi Yun used to hold his teacup paused for a moment. His gaze fell upon the prostrate Xuan Ling, and his deep eyes were calm, without a ripple, as if he had anticipated this moment all along.
He did not immediately reach out to help him up, nor did he show any excessive delight.
He simply watched him quietly for a few breaths before speaking slowly. His voice was still steady, but it carried a hint of cautionary prudence:
"Xuan Ling, have you thought this through?"
"Following me means that one day you will have to face that fiend Black Mountain directly, with no room for retreat.
The dangers involved are immense. The slightest misstep could lead to the annihilation of both body and soul.
It is a hundred times more brutal than hiding your identity and merely surviving on your own.
Are you truly certain?"
This was not a rejection, but rather a way of laying the cruelest possibilities bare before Xuan Ling one more time, giving him one last chance to back out.
Hearing this, Xuan Ling did not shrink back. On the contrary, the determination in his eyes grew even stronger.
He kowtowed heavily once more, his voice decisive and free of any hesitation:
"I am certain! To live on in disgrace, serving my enemy in a daze—that is a fate worse than death.
Black Mountain and I are already mortal enemies; it is only a matter of when the confrontation comes.
Rather than live in constant fear, waiting for a purge that could come at any moment, I would rather rise up and fight by following an enlightened lord!"
He lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed but his gaze like iron:
"My own abilities are meager, and I have no hope of achieving revenge in this life on my own. My only choice is to entrust what remains of my life to you, Daoist Friend.
Please, Daoist Friend... give me a chance!"
With that, he remained in his prostrate position, saying no more, simply waiting in silence.
The determination of his all-or-nothing gamble, combined with the clear-eyed awareness that comes from weathering great hardships, hung heavily in the small courtyard.
Qi Yun looked at this former ’senior’ who was now staking all his hopes on him, and the faint, almost imperceptible curve of his lips finally deepened.
’Everything was going according to plan.’
He set down his teacup but did not immediately bid Xuan Ling to rise. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting toward the vast sea of clouds and mountains beyond the courtyard, as if deliberating, or perhaps simply admiring the scenery.
After a moment, he retracted his gaze and let it fall on Xuan Ling once more. His voice was not loud, but it held a power that could calm the heart:
"Very well."
"Since your mind is made up, then from this day forward, you are a member of my Cyan Mountain Daoist School."
"As for your enmity with Black Mountain, we will set it aside for now.
What you need to do right now is stabilize your Heart and Spirit and recover your Cultivation.
I have no shortage of resources here; you need only focus on your training.
As for everything else..."
Qi Yun paused, a profound glimmer flashing in the depths of his eyes.
"...I have my own arrangements."
Only then did he extend a hand and make a gentle lifting motion. A soft yet irresistible force helped Xuan Ling to his feet.
"Go and rest for now. The meditation chamber in the eastern wing of the temple is yours to use as you please.
If you need anything, just inform the attendants in the temple."
As Xuan Ling rose, he felt as if the great stone that had been crushing his heart for hundreds of years had finally loosened a bit.
He looked into Qi Yun’s calm yet infinitely powerful eyes and cupped his fists solemnly:
"Xuan Ling will obey!"
’He knew that from this moment on, his destiny was inextricably bound to the unfathomable young Daoist before him.’
’The path ahead might be fraught with peril and riddled with thorns.’
’But at least... he could see the direction of the light.’
Qi Yun nodded slightly, said no more, and picked up his teacup again, his gaze distant.
Outside the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple, clouds gathered and dispersed.
Inside, the wind still sighed through the pines, and the Jade Bell chimed softly.
A thread of karma, which began with a casual act of kindness a century ago, was now quietly being woven into a new Chapter.
And beneath the seemingly calm surface of the Northwest Holy Sect, a deeper undercurrent was silently gathering.
...
「Several days later, at the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple.」
Qi Yun was at the cloud-patterned wooden desk before the window of his quiet chamber, a brush in hand, writing.
The brush was an ordinary Cyan Bamboo Brush, the ink was made from pine soot he had gathered himself, and the paper was not spirit silk, but simply high-quality mortal Xuan paper.
He wrote at a measured pace. His brushstrokes formed neither Talismans nor Dao Patterns, nor were they the incantations of a Cultivation Skill.
Instead, it was a simple essay, a collection of scattered insights and reflections.
His calligraphy was clear and elegant, with a subtle flow between the ink and strokes that suggested the principle of ultimate simplicity and a return to a natural state.
The light outside the window was perfect. Mists coiled and uncoiled between the Spirit Peaks, and the occasional clear cry of a Spiritual Bird cut through the air, only adding to the scene’s tranquility.
The natural Dao Rhyme within the temple merged with Qi Yun’s own harmonious and restrained aura, making it seem as if he were part of the landscape’s Spiritual Mechanism—serene and profound.
WHOOSH!
A beam of rainbow light descended without any warning from the highest depths of the Celestial Vault.
Ignoring the layers of Arrays and the spatial distance around the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple, it appeared like an Illusory Bubble, suddenly stopping to hover in the empty air three feet before Qi Yun.
The rainbow light swirled with seven colors, yet it remained clear and translucent.
The next instant, the rainbow light dispersed without a sound, transforming into billions of fine, iridescent threads.
Qi Yun felt the scenery around him become like an ink wash painting soaked in water, its edges beginning to blur, flow, and transform.
The quiet chamber, the wooden desk, the Meditation Mat beneath him, the shadows of the pines and the light of the clouds outside his window, and even the very outline and spiritual presence of the entire Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple... all began to fade and dissolve in a soft yet irresistible manner.
Kaleidoscopic colors flowed and reassembled before his eyes, while thousands of subtle, celestial Dao-sounds seemed to ring in his ears and then vanish.
In the space of a single breath, all the brilliant, flowing colors suddenly converged and solidified.
Qi Yun was no longer in the quiet chamber of the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple.
The tip of his brush was still poised, the ink on the paper not yet dry.
He was still in the same posture of writing, the angle of his flowing sleeves unchanged.
But the world around him was completely different.
This was a strange forest grove.
Heavenly light spilled down from a dome above. A curtain of light, shimmering with the warm luster of jade and rippling like water, sealed off the inside from the out, forming a world of its own.
The forest was not silent.
A hundred beasts leaped and bounded, brimming with life, yet everything was in perfect order.
The Spiritual Qi flowing in the air was pure and immense, ten, even a hundred times richer and purer than in any Grotto Heaven Blessed Land Qi Yun had ever seen.
With a single breath, his Purple Mansion felt clear, and his Dao Foundation faintly resonated in response.
And upon a naturally formed Dark Red Jade Platform...
a bare-chested man sat in silent meditation, his back to Qi Yun.
His build was powerful and imposing, his broad shoulders like a mountain ridge. Faint, strange, pale gold patterns could be seen flowing naturally beneath his skin—the marks of the Great Dao itself branded upon his flesh.
Just his back alone, without him even intentionally releasing any pressure, projected an overwhelming sense of ’majesty’.
Though he was merely sitting in meditation, he gave the impression of someone holding up the very heavens.
It seemed this strange land was made manifest and sustained by his very presence.
"You’re here."
The man’s voice sounded—not too high, not too low, neither hurried nor slow.
Its timbre was not the booming of a great bell as one might expect, but instead carried a unique metallic quality and a warmth mellowed by the ages.
Hearing the voice, Qi Yun immediately focused his Heart and Spirit, straightened his Daoist Robe, and bowed deeply:
"Disciple Qi Yun pays his respects to the True Monarch!"
...