441: Chapter 451 The Return of Qingquan

"Good... good boy..." Liu Wenyuan's voice was as raspy as sandpaper rubbing together. Every word was spoken extremely slowly, as if it took all his strength. "Coming back alive... is good enough..."

He carefully sized up Su Ming before him. Five years had passed, and the youthful fragility of the past had faded. The young man before him was like a piece of profound iron tempered in ice and snow—reserved, steady, yet possessing a resilience that ordinary people could never hope to match.

Liu Wenyuan smiled with relief. He slowly raised his hand and pointed to a small wooden table nearby.

On the wooden table sat a Go board.

Su Ming stood up, walked to the opposite side of the board, and sat down. He extended his slender fingers and pinched a warm, smooth black stone from the bowl.

A long silence fell within the warm pavilion.

One old, one young, playing a match once again across five years of time.

Neither of them spoke; there was only the crisp sound of stones hitting the board.

Su Ming's playing style had changed.

Back then, although he tried his best to hide his sharpness, there was still a hint of edge in his bones that wanted to break the deadlock. Now, every move he made seemed to contain a strange rhythm. Unhurried and steady as a deep pool or a high mountain. He abandoned all risky killing moves, seeking only 'stability'. Like heavy snow leaving no tracks or rain moisturizing things silently, no matter how Liu Wenyuan's white stones tested him, the black stones always firmly controlled the baseline of the overall situation, watertight and flawless.

A full hour passed.

When Su Ming gently placed the last black stone on the 'Tianyuan' position of the board, the entire deadlocked game suddenly opened up. The black stones were like an invisible giant net, perfectly neutralizing all variables into nothingness.

Liu Wenyuan's hand holding a white stone froze in mid-air. After a long time, he dropped the stone back into the bowl and suddenly let out a low laugh.

"Your play is much more steady than back then." Liu Wenyuan looked at the board, his clouded eyes flickering with the light of wisdom. "No flash of blades or swords is seen, yet you already stand in an invincible position. In terms of this Heart-Nature, this old man is not your equal."

Su Ming lowered his head slightly. "The world is like a game of Go; this Junior has simply learned that only by surviving first does one have the right to place a stone."

Liu Wenyuan nodded. After a moment of silence, his clouded gaze turned toward the falling withered leaves outside the window, and his voice became somewhat distant. "Brother Zhou's side... have you gone to see him yet?"

The 'Brother Zhou' he spoke of was naturally the mentor who had recommended Su Ming back then, Master Zhou Wenhai of Qingshi Town.

Su Ming shook his head. "I have not gone there yet."

"Go see him." Liu Wenyuan sighed. "He has waited for you for five years. For these five years, he would write me a letter every month to ask for news of you. I knew you weren't dead, but I didn't dare tell him, fearing that leaking the news would harm you. That old frame of his has endured much bitterness."

Liu Wenyuan paused, his gaze falling back onto Su Ming, his eyes reflecting a calm that had seen through the world.

"As for this old bag of bones, I have the imperial court's salary to sustain me; I can last a few more years. Now that the treacherous officials have been executed and the court is clear, I can die in peace. You... go your way without worry."

He knew that the Su Ming before him was no longer the mundane scholar who needed his protection. That unfathomable aura had long since transcended the shackles of this Mortal World's court.

Su Ming stood up, solemnly straightened his robes once more, and gave a deep bow.

"This Junior shall remember."

Su Ming took several warm mutton-fat jade pendants from his robe and placed them gently beside the Go board. Then, he left an unsealed letter—a medicinal diet recipe he had written overnight, combining mundane medical theory with subtle Spiritual Qi guidance, enough to extend Liu Wenyuan's life by ten years.

Without redundant pleasantries or small talk, Su Ming turned and quietly walked out of the warm pavilion.

Sitting in his wheelchair, Liu Wenyuan looked at the jade pendants emitting a faint glow, then at Su Ming's retreating figure disappearing outside the courtyard gate.

The autumn wind blew, fluttering his gray hair.

This great scholar, who once remained unfazed even if Mount Tai collapsed before him, sat in the empty pavilion as tears flickered silently in his clouded old eyes.

...

The fifth day after the death of Marquis Yongchang.

Inside an inconspicuous inn in the capital.

Su Ming sat cross-legged on the bed. In the four corners of the room, extremely subtle glimmers of spiritual power flowed faintly.

It was a composite miniature Formation composed of four basic runes: 'Hide', 'Balance', 'Fix', and 'Gather'. In this capital where Spiritual Qi was extremely thin and suppressed by the imperial Dragon Qi, this Formation acted like an insulating cover, perfectly locking all aura fluctuations within a one-zhang radius around Su Ming, without leaking a single bit.

It did not seek grand power, only ultimate precision and concealment.

In Su Ming's hands, he held a yellowed remnant scroll—the "Star Induction Mantra".

This was the Cultivation Technique he used in conjunction with the xuantian ring and the border guarding true seal. His Divine Sense was immersed in the obscure and ancient text of the remnant, while his liquid Foundation Establishment spiritual power flowed through his Meridians like a calm but deep river, silent and soundless.

The sky outside gradually darkened, and the evening sunset dyed the inn's wooden window a shade of orange-red.

Suddenly, Su Ming's tightly closed eyes snapped open.

His keen perception caught a faint fluctuation that did not belong to the mortal realm.

Swish—

A thread of extremely fine green light, like a blade cutting through the Void Realm, directly ignored the obstruction of the inn's wooden window and instantly entered the concealment Formation Su Ming had set up.

Su Ming steadily extended two fingers, catching the green light between them.

The light dissipated, turning into a green jade talisman as thin as a cicada's wing.

Sending his Divine Sense into the jade talisman, a familiar and slightly weary voice rang directly in Su Ming's mind, concise and to the point.

"Thirty li east of the city, meet at the old place."

It was Elder Qingquan's transmission talisman.

A sharp light flashed in Su Ming's eyes. He knew that Elder Qingquan's trip to Northern Mang had yielded results.

Without a moment's delay, Su Ming rose to his feet. His hands quickly formed incantation gestures, removing the miniature Formation in the corners of the room and smoothing over all remaining traces of spiritual power in the air.

Afterward, he put on a bamboo hat, pushed open the door, and like an ordinary Jianghu traveler, blended into the bustling evening market of the capital, silently making his way toward the eastern city gate.

Thirty li outside the eastern suburbs of the capital, there was a range of rolling barren mountains.

The place was sparsely populated, with overgrown vegetation. The night wind whistled through the gaps in the valley, making sounds like ghosts weeping and wolves howling. Because the terrain was treacherous and yielded little, even woodcutters were unwilling to come here on normal days.

A cold crescent moon hung on the treetops, casting mottled shadows onto the rugged mountain path.

Su Ming's figure was like an agile night cat, darting quickly through the forest. His feet didn't even crush the withered leaves on the ground. Water-attribute spiritual power formed an extremely thin buffer layer under his soles; every step was like treading on soft ripples of water, without making the slightest sound.

In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Su Ming had climbed to the peak of the barren mountain.

On a massive green rock sat a familiar figure cross-legged.

Elder Qingquan.