On the border of Xingzhou and Si State, in the countryside on the city’s outskirts, children were returning from delivering als to their parents busy at the river dam, laughing and talking as they walked along the mountain path back to their village.
The children were unaware of the recent uproar about sea beasts; they only knew that in recent years, life had improved considerably.
Certain fertilizers and pesticides, when sprinkled on the ground, caused crops to grow wildly. The road to town had been repaired, so they no longer needed a whole day’s walk to reach the market. Furthermore, the town’s drugstore sold a divine dicine in tiny glass bottles, a small amount of which could cure various ailnts.
The word "starvation" had beco a vague concept in their minds.
Their only source of unhappiness, perhaps, was that the cloth they wove at ho wasn’t selling well. After all, due to those riverside workshops, both fabrics and garnts were much cheaper than before.
Just as they were discussing whether to catch crabs or cicadas after finishing chores like cutting pig feed and gathering firewood, a sharp-eyed child quickly raised his hand, signaling everyone to lower their voices.
Not far away, on a hill, an old man sat quietly.
He wore a black robe, his legs crossed beneath a tree, facing a grave, seemingly lost in thought. On the tombstone before the grave, one could vaguely make out the surna "Lian."
An unnatural expression appeared on the children’s faces, and they instinctively quickened their pace to flee the area.
That old man, whose na they didn’t know, ca to the mountain by their village every year around this ti and would sit before the grave for a day or two.
Decades ago, even before the village was founded, people had seen him paying respects at that tomb.
Oddly, though he clearly spoke with a similar local accent, no one in the nearby villages or towns recognized him. Nor had anyone seen him entering or leaving the village.
It was said that decades ago, soone had gone to the city to report to the garrison. The garrison soldiers ca to investigate but didn’t reveal the old man’s identity; they only solemnly warned the villagers not to disturb him.
Truly strange...
Shortly after the children hurried away, the clouds high above parted, and Li Ang plumted, landing on the hillside.
"PHEW."
He straightened his wind-mussed collar, strode up the slope, passed through the pine forest, then slowed his steps as he approached the two graves. He bowed respectfully and said, "Mountain Master."
Lian Xuanyao did not turn around. "It was Ati who sent you, wasn’t it?" he said slowly.
"Yes."
Li Ang paused, unsure if the Mountain Master had deduced that Li Ang could find him because he had only told Ati his whereabouts, or if the Mountain Master maintained communication with Ati.
"Is there sothing you need?"
"It’s like this..."
Li Ang succinctly explained how he had discovered the Siyou People’s Temple through his Ink Silk Clone.
He focused on the four murals inside the temple that seed to be prophecies and elaborated that Zhao Ming might have grasped the secrets of the Siyou Clan, possibly through Shixing Monk—or Harvard, as he was now known.
"I see."
The Mountain Master nodded. Without any overt movent from him, the nearby pine needles swept aside, clearing a space. "Sit."
Ah? Aren’t the Siyou Clan’s prophecy and the matters concerning Zhao Ming important?
Li Ang suppressed his anxiety and, imitating the Mountain Master, sat cross-legged on the ground.
The Mountain Master turned his head slightly and asked, "How have you been faring at the Academic Palace lately?"
"Well."
Li Ang subconsciously answered truthfully, then paused and scratched his head in embarrassnt. "It’s just a bit... difficult to adjust. It’s too quiet."
The friends he knew had either gone to the border, stationed with the army and always ready to repel enemy sneak attacks, or journeyed to the East Sea to hunt sea beasts.
Instead, Li Ang himself, who had always been very busy, was the one left behind in the Academic Palace.
"Is that so?"
The Mountain Master said no more, turning back to look at the grave. "This is my family’s tomb," he stated calmly.
Li Ang didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent.
"During the Fengyi Era," the Mountain Master began, "a rumor about the River Suppressing Chi Beast spread through the Jianghu. It was said that consuming the Dragon Ball, still gestating within the Chi Beast, could extend one’s life, enhance cultivation, and even offer a glimpse into the realm beyond Candle Cloud. Various factions, each with their own hidden agendas, joined forces to hunt and kill the River Suppressing Chi Beast. This led to the collapse of river embanknts and widespread flooding, transforming thousands of miles of land into a marsh. This very Ta’an Village was once completely subrged."
The Mountain Master gestured towards the peaceful village below the mountain. "In the face of a flood, houses were like they were built of sand, collapsing with a re push. People who fell into the water were instantly swept away by the undercurrent, vanishing from the surface. They would only resurface dozens of yards away, lifeless and bloated, their bellies often full of water. Many floating corpses were covered in colorful insects; it wasn’t that maggots appeared so quickly, but that the insects, too, were trying to escape the flood."
A reminiscent expression flickered across the Mountain Master’s face. "My family’s house was washed away; my father, brothers, and sisters were all swept away. My mother placed in a wooden washbasin, trying to push towards a low hill, but she ran out of strength. With a final, desperate push, she sent far away, then disappeared beneath the water herself. Sitting in the wooden basin, I drifted all the way to the borders of Cao State, where I was rescued by the Academic Palace and survived.
"I enrolled in the Academic Palace and learned faster than anyone. My first year was Rain Listening, and my second was Cloud Patrol. By the third year, I had annihilated all cultivators suspected of killing the River Suppressing Chi Beast and causing the flood, whether they were good cultivators or Demon Cultivators. This group included Academic Palace Doctors, court officials, Imperial Palace Tributors, and even mbers of the royal family."
"Ah?"
Li Ang’s eyelids twitched. He knew the Mountain Master’s temperant in his youth hadn’t been as mild or forgiving as it was now, but he hadn’t expected the old man to have killed so many people, including those from his own Academic Palace.
And... to commit such a major cri in only his third year of study, was that really alright?
"Perhaps those cultivators involved in killing the Chi Beast had their own motives: so rely wanted a share of the spoils, others were following orders from influential figures, and so were incited by others. But in my eyes, they all deserved to die."
Guessing Li Ang’s thoughts, the Mountain Master said indifferently, "During the day, I studied in the Academic Palace, deliberately feigning dull-wittedness and poor talent, maintaining the facade of being only at the Qi Sensing Realm. At night, I would change into night clothes, leave the city, and kill with a blade, employing the most brutal and cruel thods imaginable. Even if classmates, ntors, or garrison sergeants noticed anything amiss, I easily threw them off. No one would suspect that an elegant Disciple, known only for being at the Qi Sensing Realm and using a sword, could be connected to the era’s most notorious mass murderer."
"Then..."
Li Ang hesitated. No wonder the Mountain Master was so calm when he found out that I had a demon residing within . It turns out he was even more ruthless in his youth.
Although the Academic Palace taught all regardless of background, it would surely not condone a Disciple’s penchant for slaughter, much less appoint such a person as Mountain Master. This matter must be known to very few. Why tell this now?
"Are you wondering why I’m telling you all this?"
The Mountain Master turned his head and smiled. "Because I’m about to die."
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