447: Chapter 457 Farewell

Night had fallen deep.

The autumn insects chirped feebly in the bamboo grove, while a waning moon hung high in the sky, casting a cold silver glow upon the blue bricks and gray tiles.

The lights in the old house had long been extinguished, and the family had fallen into a deep slumber. Only the occasional heavy breath or sleep-talk could be heard, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet night.

Su Ming did not sleep.

He noiselessly pushed open his door and walked onto the bluestone slabs in the center of the courtyard.

Under the moonlight, his expression was cold and focused. His hands hung naturally at his sides, but the spiritual energy within his body was circulating rapidly through his Meridians.

With a flick of his wrist, three palm-sized, dark gray, blank Formation Plates appeared in Su Ming's palm. These were polished from scraps of chen xing iron ore he had refined while at the Cloud Hidden Sect's Repair Hall; the material was tough and inherently possessed a trait that isolated Divine Sense probes.

Su Ming took a deep breath, a faint blue light flashing in his eyes.

Instead of using a carving knife, he pressed his index and middle fingers together. A drop of deep blue water-attribute spiritual energy, so dense it almost solidified, condensed at his fingertip like the tip of a brush.

Swish!

With a movement of his body, Su Ming appeared in the northeast corner of the courtyard like a ghost.

His fingertip tapped the first Formation Plate. Guided by his finger, the liquid spiritual energy moved swiftly across the hard surface of the chen xing iron, carving out incredibly complex lines.

It was a variation of the "Solid" character, combined with the principles of dredging earth veins he had realized from the "True Meaning of Basic Rune Deconstruction." He didn't crudely smash the Formation Plate into the ground; instead, he circulated the Ruoshui Art, letting his spiritual energy seep into the soil like mercury, searching for the finest paths of the earth veins beneath this land.

Then, following the natural flow, he planted the Formation Plate like a seed, perfectly fitting it into a node of the earth vein.

"Chiss—"

With a very faint sound, the first Formation Plate completely vanished beneath the soil, without even a trace of spiritual energy leaking out.

Next was the southwest corner of the courtyard, and then beneath the screen wall facing the main gate.

The three Formation Plates, arranged in a Trinity formation, perfectly enveloped the entire Su Family old house.

After completing this, a layer of fine sweat had broken out on his forehead. Even for a Cultivator at the Foundation Establishment Stage, such precise manipulation of earth veins and composite Array Patterns was a significant drain.

But he did not stop.

Su Ming walked to the stone steps in front of the main hall's entrance and looked up at the thick load-bearing crossbeam above the porch.

He once again took a piece of wood from his robes; it was a piece of Soul-Nourishing Wood core left over by Lin Yu.

Su Ming held the jade pendant in his palms and closed his eyes.

The spiritual energy of the Ruoshui Art turned into threads of extremely gentle water, wrapping around the wood block layer by layer for the final nurturing and refinement. He carved a miniature "Spirit-Attracting" rune inside the wood block. Then, he drew a drop of essence blood for the wood block to absorb; this was a secret technique used when the Sect assigned Immortal Caves. If the Formation were broken, he would surely sense it from the Cloud Hidden Sect.

After a full tea's time, Su Ming finally opened his eyes.

He flicked his finger.

Sou!

The piece of wood turned into a streak of light, precisely embedding itself into the most hidden mortise and tenon gap of the crossbeam.

Having done all this, Su Ming stood quietly in the center of the courtyard.

The moonlight was like water, softly spilling over the blue tiles, the bare branches of the old locust tree, and the bluestone steps in front of the main hall.

The night breeze brushed past, bringing a familiar scent of soil and firewood.

Everything was so quiet, so warm, and so filled with nostalgia.

Su Ming slowly closed his eyes.

In his heart, in a voice only he could hear, he spoke silently:

Father, Mother, Second Brother, Eldest Brother.

I have left this barrier for you. This is the last thing I will do during this return.

I cannot come back to see you often, because my very existence is a danger. But at least, with this Formation in place and with Second Brother's resourcefulness, you can live peacefully, prosperously, and healthily in the cracks of this chaotic world.

A hundred years from now, when you have turned into yellow earth, perhaps I will still have this youthful appearance.

But in this life, being able to be your son and your brother...

I, Su Ming, have no regrets.

...

Day was just beginning to break.

On the eastern horizon, an extremely faint sliver of fish-belly white had just appeared. The late autumn morning dew was heavy, wetting the bluestone slabs in the courtyard and reflecting a layer of cold light.

Su Ming did not disturb anyone.

He didn't pack any bags, for he had come alone and empty-handed.

He noiselessly pushed open his door without making a sound. Just like when he was setting up the Formation last night, his footsteps were as light as if they had no weight.

He walked to the courtyard gate and placed his hands on the two heavy, black-lacquered wooden doors.

A moment before pulling back the bolt, Su Ming stopped.

He turned around and, for the last time, cast his gaze upon the courtyard that held all the joys and sorrows of his youth.

The side rooms, the main hall, the stove, the old locust tree.

He wanted to carve these images deep into his mind, deep into his Divine Soul.

Just then.

"Zhiya—"

The heavy wooden door of the main hall made an extremely faint sound that was nonetheless incredibly clear in the silence of the early morning.

The door was slowly pushed open from the inside.

Su Ming's body suddenly stiffened.

From the gap in the door, a hunched figure emerged.

It was his father.

Su Shan was draped in a half-worn coarse cotton coat, his hand still tightly clutching the old dry tobacco pipe that had accompanied him for half his life.

He did not walk toward Su Ming, nor did he say any words to urge him to stay.

He just stood quietly at the entrance of the main hall, at the boundary between the cold morning light and the shadows of the hall.

Those bloodshot, cloudy eyes stared fixedly at Su Ming standing by the courtyard gate.

Father and son, separated by a distance of over a dozen paces, looked at each other silently in the glimmer before dawn.

There were no tears, no instructions, and no sorrow of parting.

There was only a deep, bone-deep understanding that existed between men.

Su Ming looked at the old man whose spine had been bent by the years.

He slowly took a step back.

Then, he lifted the front hem of his faded gray long robe.

On the bluestone slabs covered in morning dew, he knelt on both knees.

With his hands on the ground and his back bent in a deeply respectful arc, he performed a deep kowtow toward the old man standing on the threshold.

The bluestone was icy cold.

This bow was to honor the debt of being raised.

This bow was to sever his mortal Karma.

At the entrance of the main hall, the father looked at his son kneeling on the ground.

The hand holding the tobacco pipe trembled slightly.

Then, he extremely slowly but with great solemnity, he nodded.

It was a father's final response to a son about to embark on a long journey.

It was an acceptance of that heavy kowtow, and a complete release of the kite string tied to his son.

Su Ming stood up.

He didn't say another word, nor did he show any further weakness.

He turned around and, with both hands, pulled open the heavy black-lacquered wooden door.

Outside the door was the long street of the late autumn morning, permeated with a bone-chilling cold.

Su Ming stepped over the threshold and put his wide bamboo hat back on his head, concealing his eyes which had become as calm as an ancient well.

He strode forward.

He walked far, far away.

Until he was about to turn the corner of the street.

Su Ming ultimately couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

He slightly turned his head and, out of the corner of his eye, looked back—

The two black-lacquered wooden doors were still wide open.

At the courtyard gate, his father had come out at some point.

He still stood there in that hunched posture, holding his tobacco pipe.

A wisp of blue-gray smoke rose slowly in the cold morning air.

He just smoked his pipe quietly, his gaze crossing the long street, watching that gray figure gradually vanish into the mist.

The first ray of the rising sun happened to cross the top of the wall at that moment, falling upon that hunched figure.

So quiet, so warm, yet so distant.

Su Ming withdrew his gaze.

He turned around and took a deep breath of the cool morning air. At this moment, the Foundation Establishment Stage spiritual energy within his body seemed to break through some invisible shackle, becoming more transparent and attaining Perfection like never before.

Only with a heart free of attachments can one achieve longevity.

He strode forward, toward the direction away from home, toward that long Dao of longevity that was destined to be lonely yet magnificent.