Chapter 287 – Departure - Part 3

Another half‑month slipped by.

Li Yuan finished sorting money, secret arts, pills, and ore, sending them off in batches along his private routes toward Cloudpeak Province—seed capital for the farming life he planned. The stash even included a chest of blood gold and the two beast taming manuals that the temple master had bestowed upon him.

Yellow leaves fell in flurries. Instead of the famed mountain summit, now a pilgrim’s site for apprentice blacksmiths, Li Yuan chose a hidden forge to fashion Shuixiang’s spirit artifact. Into that weapon he quietly poured 300 years of his own life.

300 years was not enough to punch a hole in Yin and Yang or call down heavenly thunder and earthly fog, and Jing Shuixiang was no peak fifth rank martial artist like Gu Xuejian. Even so, the moment her fingers closed on the slim blood‑red blade, her combat power leapt from 1,260~1,350 to 1,260~9,548—and would only grow as she herself advanced.

At sunset, the petite elder, dressed in black, escorted Li Yuan beyond the city stronghold’s walls. Every senior member of the Holy Tree Temple had quietly agreed. This farewell belonged to the two of them alone. The man wanted no attendants, no maids, and no ceremony, only the open road.

No one asked where he was headed.

South

, perhaps—nothing more specific. After forging Jing Shuixiang’s blade he looked spent, a frail old man whose flame would soon gutter out. Yet it was his choice, and they respected it.

All knew

Master Li

longed for home.

He hugged the small woman lightly. “This blade is the best I can give you. Not as grand as Gu Xuejian’s, I’m afraid.”

Tears glimmered at the corners of Jing Shuixiang’s eyes. “Fool. You’re...a great big fool.”

“Take care of Huayin, Yao Jue, and Ping'an,” he said.

“I will. I’ve sent those three to train by the meat fields. They won’t learn of your leaving for days.” She hesitated. “Will you come back?”

“I will,” he answered with a smile.

She wanted to call him a liar, but the words turned into, “I’ll wait.”

Their parting was as plain as water. No faked death, no disguises, no elaborate plans. Li Yuan simply walked away, blood gold and all. A lone cart rolled south, wheels humming. He stopped in a quiet market town, took a room, then prowled the streets at midnight.

After a day of checks he still wasn’t satisfied; for several more he repeated the pattern.

His personal senses covered only about two kilometers, but with the Ghost Bow in hand he could sweep five kilometers—the perception of a fifth rank martial artist.

If anyone from the Holy Tree Temple had shadowed him, Li Yuan would have noticed.

A few more days of quiet tests convinced him. No expert was on his tail. The Holy Tree Temple really had let him go.

What he did

not

expect was the rumor that suddenly swept the jianghu.

𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

“Master Li has left the Holy Tree Temple to wander the land, carrying a fortune fit for a kingdom.”

A luscious piece of bait. Wanderers everywhere began hunting for a distinguished, white‑haired elder.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Somewhere in the remote countryside of Silkfloss Province, a sleepy young man was lounging in the common room of a tavern, seemingly detached from all the noise going on in the wider world.

“Achoo!” After rubbing his nose, he called, “Waiter, more wine please!”

“Right away, sir!” the waiter answered.

Several would‑be bounty hunters hurried past, whispering to each other. No one spared the boy a glance. There were far too many aimless youths in the world.

Heh. Feels good to stroll a busy street without anyone recognizing who I am.

Li Yuan accepted the jar of wine, filled his cup, and looked down at the calm surface. An utterly ordinary teenager stared back.

A strange relief washed over him. The weight of years sloughed away; his time as

Master Li

felt like a half‑forgotten dream. He could stand tall and start anew.

Then he remembered the last words he’d shared with his son. Life was short. And his Eternal Youth meant eventually saying goodbye to every connection he’d ever make.

Xue Ning was growing old. The once‑alluring proprietress, even with rejuvenation pills, could not hide the weariness in her brows. Reaching sixth rank added 100 years; fifth rank, 300 years; fourth rank, 500 years—and even first rank couldn’t buy eternity.

Yet he, of all people, was the lone eternal destined to watch dynasties rise and fall.

Li Yuan suddenly missed Yan Yu.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

“Bright moon over the sea—

though far apart, we share this light.

Lovers blame the lingering night,

their thoughts returning till dawn.

I snuff the lamp to savor the glow,

pull on a cloak and feel the dew.

I cannot cup the moonbeams to give you;

better to sleep and meet in dreams.”

Cui Huayin read the ancient poem aloud, line by line, lost in its quiet depth.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

A sealed packet was left for Ping'an.

Inside the brocade pouch lay a single slip of paper.

“I promised to stay home and grow old, but left without farewell. This is my last lesson. Never trust anyone completely, not even me.”

Ping'an’s breath came hard; his fists clenched, yet no tears fell. He was no longer a

crybaby

. Those who had teased him were gone, even the family he cherished. But it didn’t matter. He would carve a name so loud his family beneath the earth would hear it.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Deep within the Holy Tree Temple, the inner sanctum of the White Bamboo Hanging Bell Tower, a vine‑woven gate creaked open.

A man in azure robes stepped from the darkness, haggard, eyes swirling with ruinous malice—then the madness ebbed.

He exhaled. “So that’s how it is. Let the world decide which of us is real. That should push me into third rank. 178 years...gone in a blink.”

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Voices echoed in a secluded chamber, all distinct yet belonging to a lone man.

“Amitabha.

Kill, kill, kill! Ha ha ha!

Show compassion!

No killing, or hatred never ends!

No stealing, or strong and weak are one!

No lust, or all sentient beings are sin!

No lies, for life is but a dream!

You’re the fake!

—No, you’re the fake!

Stop arguing—STOP!”

Wrapped in black lotus robes, the man clutched his head, trapped in a private hell.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Outside the chamber.

A tall, powerfully built man in a red lotus robe waited, a letter in his hand. His name was Fang Jianlong. Eight years ago, on his wedding day, Red Lotus Cult abducted him and his bride. He feigned surrender to buy them both time.

Five years ago, a Sacred Fire Palace strike force rescued his wife...but left him behind. He was abandoned, tossed away.

Last year, he learned she had remarried, taking the heir of a clan in the Sacred Fire Palace as a husband. In that moment, Feng Jianlong became a true Red Lotus Rebel, with one simple goal—wipe the Sacred Fire Palace off the map.

Now, he had been ordered to deliver a letter. The inner door was shut, so he waited...seven days and nights without resting, silent as stone.