36: Chapter 36 Whereabouts

tianxuan calendar, Taiping 19th Year, Spring

Before leaving, Lu Chen went to the Pharmacy.

Old Zhou was lying in bed. On the day Zhao Ping led people to ransack the Pharmacy, he had been grazed by a Restriction; the injury wasn't fatal, but he was old. Two bones were broken, his Spiritual Qi circulation was sluggish, and he couldn't get up.

Seeing Lu Chen enter, Old Zhou tried to prop himself up. He couldn't.

"Stay lying down."

Old Zhou lay back down. His eyes stared at Lu Chen for a long while.

"You came out of the fifth level."

"I came out."

"Did you see the Ancestral Master?"

"I saw him. Skeletons. He died in meditation."

Old Zhou fell silent for a moment. "What words did he leave behind?"

"Immortal life is an endless prison sentence."

Old Zhou's hand twitched beneath the covers. It was very slight, but Lu Chen saw it. Not because his eyes were good, but because the blanket moved.

"You have also entered the Inverted Tower."

Old Zhou did not deny it. After a long time, he spoke.

"I entered the third level."

"Why didn't you enter the fourth level?"

"Fear."

"Fear of what?"

"Fear of forgetting myself." Old Zhou's voice was very low, as if seeping out from underground. "The first level extracts fear—I wasn't afraid. The second level extracts friendship—I gritted my teeth and passed that too. The third level—"

"Compassion."

"Yes. When compassion was being extracted, I saw a person."

"Who?"

"Li Gusheng. My Junior Brother."

Light from outside the window fell on Old Zhou's face. His face was covered in wrinkles, and there were no tears in his eyes—an old man's tear ducts have dried up.

"Gusheng was the best alchemist in the Alchemy Hall. Better than me, better than Elder Zhou. He refined a pill called the 'Bone-Refined Pill'—using a section of his own rib as medicine. The pill he refined could allow a Grey Spirit Root to Breakthrough to Foundation Establishment."

"He succeeded?"

"He succeeded. But he didn't survive. On the day the rib was used as medicine, his cultivation collapsed. Qi Refining Level 9, vanished in an instant. Before he died, he gave the pill to me. He said—'Senior Brother, give this pill to someone who can use it in the future.'"

Old Zhou's fingers curled, gripping the corner of the blanket.

"I took that pill and entered the Inverted Tower. First level, second level, third level—when I reached the Compassion Gate, I saw him again. I saw him sitting in front of the Pill Furnace, his ribs covered in blood, yet he was still smiling. He said, 'Senior Brother, the pill is ready'—and then I retreated."

"Why retreat?"

"Because I knew that if I took one more step forward, I wouldn't even be able to remember him. After compassion is extracted, the next things to be taken are his face, his voice, and the last words he said to me." Old Zhou looked at the ceiling. "I couldn't forget him."

Lu Chen did not speak.

"You understand now," Old Zhou said. "That pill—the one Gusheng refined with his life—it finally belongs to you. Use it when you reach Foundation Establishment."

"You knew it was for me?"

"The Sect Head arranged it. He asked me who the pill should be given to, and I said to the person who could finish the Inverted Tower." Old Zhou turned his head to look at him. "You finished it."

Lu Chen looked at Old Zhou. He didn't care—he still didn't care. Old Zhou's Junior Brother had died, Old Zhou had retreated, Old Zhou had guarded that pill for decades—these were all objective facts.

But he finished listening.

"I am going to the Loose Cultivators Alliance."

"Looking for what?"

"The sixth finger bone."

Old Zhou nodded. He didn't ask if he would come back.

"Su Qing will take care of you."

"I know."

Lu Chen stood up. When he reached the door, Old Zhou called out to him.

"Lu Chen."

He stopped.

"Gusheng said one more thing before he died. 'Tell the person who can finish the Inverted Tower—don't look back.'"

Lu Chen did not look back.

He walked out of the Pharmacy. The sunlight was piercing; he raised a hand to block it. Where the back of his hand touched the sunlight, he felt no warmth.

Su Qing was waiting outside the Pharmacy. Today she wore a grey robe, her hair tied with a black ribbon, her face expressionless.

"The Sect Head killed Liu Chong."

"The Restriction was lifted?"

"Lifted. The Sect Head said—if you won't kill him, he will." Su Qing paused. "The Sect Head also said for you to go see him once before you leave."

"I'm not going."

Su Qing did not ask why.

"Chen Xuan sent a report this morning. People from the Xuantian Sect are already on their way. They'll arrive in about ten days."

"Enough time for me to reach the Loose Cultivators Alliance."

"By yourself?"

"By myself."

Su Qing pulled a cloth bag from her sleeve. "Old Zhou asked me to give this to you. Inside are Spirit Stones and some Medicinal Pills."

Lu Chen took it. The cloth bag felt weightless in his hand—his hand couldn't feel it.

"Will you come back?"

"I don't know."

"Right now—" Su Qing stared into his eyes, "do you still know who you are?"

Lu Chen thought for a moment. "I know. And I don't know."

He turned and left.

When he left the Danding Sect's mountain gate, no one saw him off. Old Zhou was lying down, the Sect Head was recovering in the quiet room, and Su Qing stood at the Pharmacy door without following. Qin Wu had long since left.

He walked out alone.

The mountain path was still the same path. When he came, it was the autumn of Taiping 18th Year; when he left, it was the spring of Taiping 19th Year. More than half a year had passed. He had changed a lot—not that he had become stronger, but that he had become less. Less emotion, less memory; he himself was becoming less.

When he reached the foot of the mountain, he glanced down at his left wrist.

White thread. Six loops, seven knots. The thread was still there.

He pulled his sleeve down to cover the thread. He continued walking.

The Loose Cultivators Alliance was to the east of the Danding Sect. Taking the main road would take five days, but the mountain path took three. He took the mountain path—not to save time, but because he didn't want to encounter people from the Xuantian Sect on the road.

The mountain path was very quiet. The trees were tall, covering the sky until only a sliver remained. Light leaked through the gaps, fragmented, like stones on the ground. Lu Chen walked very fast—with the leg strength of a Qi Refining Level 5 Peak, traveling a hundred miles a day was no problem.

On the evening of the second day, he stopped to rest.

Sitting under a large tree, he took out a Spirit Stone to absorb. Deep golden light was drawn out from the Spirit Stone, drilling into his Dantian through his fingers. His Dantian was at ninety-three percent, only half a step away from Level 6. But that half step was not easy to take—it wasn't for lack of Spiritual Qi, but because his state of mind hadn't reached it.

He tried once. The Spiritual Qi surged toward Level 6, but dissipated halfway. It wasn't blocked by anything; it just dissipated. Like water splashed on a stone slab, it couldn't seep in.

The truth of the fifth level was still weighing on him.

The last words of Ancestral Master Li Xuanyi still rang in his ears—"Immortal life is an endless prison sentence." He knew what kind of path he was walking. He knew that continuing would mean losing even more. He knew that the end of the road might be another set of white bones, sitting in another cave, waiting for the next Grey Spirit Root to come and pick up a finger bone.

But he would not stop.

Not because of bravery. Not because he didn't care.

Because in his bones, there was only this one thing.

On the afternoon of the third day, he reached the territory of the Loose Cultivators Alliance.

There were no city gates, no boundary markers, and no guards. It was just that a dirt road suddenly widened, and houses suddenly appeared on both sides of it—crooked stone houses, tall and short, squeezed together. The air was filled with a mixed scent of medicinal herbs, roasted meat, and sweat.

The Loose Cultivators Alliance was not a Sect, but a marketplace. Loose Cultivators who were not qualified to enter a Sect gathered here. Buying and selling intelligence, exchanging Medicinal Pills, fighting for territory—it was chaotic, but alive.

Lu Chen walked into the marketplace.

No one paid him any attention. New faces arrived here every day, and familiar faces vanished every day. A young man in a grey robe, neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin—no one would give him a second glance.

He found an inn. The storefront was narrow and the interior was dark; behind the counter sat an old man missing his front teeth.

"Staying the night."

"One Spirit Stone per day."

Lu Chen placed a Spirit Stone on the counter. The old man took it and handed over a key.

"Third floor. The room at the very end."

He took the key.

The moment his finger touched the key, his left wrist suddenly twitched.

It wasn't a pulse. It was the white thread.

The white thread was burning hot.

It didn't hurt—he couldn't feel pain. But he saw the white thread glowing. A soft light, very faint, just like what he had seen under the night-luminescent pearl. But this time it wasn't reflecting light—the white thread was glowing on its own.

Qin Wu was nearby.

He didn't know who "Qin Wu" was. He didn't know the person corresponding to that face, that voice, or that thread. But the thread knew.

The thread was heating up. The thread was telling him—the person who shared the same thread as you is within one li.

Lu Chen looked down at the light on his wrist.

Six loops, seven knots.

tianxuan calendar, Taiping 19th Year, Spring.

Lu Chen, Qi Refining Level 5 Peak. Dantian at ninety-three percent.

Loose Cultivators Alliance. Inn, third floor.

The white thread was glowing.

Qin Wu—was nearby.