184: Chapter 184 Guerrilla Maneuvering (Part Two)

Northwest, the Rift Zone, noon.

The sun hung overhead, but its light could not reach the ground. Gray clouds filled the sky—not rain clouds, but clouds of Devilish Qi. They were not thick, but they were not thin either, like a layer of filthy cotton batting that filtered the sunlight again and again. The light that reached the ground was a sickly pale, like the face of a patient.

Lu Mingyuan stood on a hillside, looking at the second village in the distance. This village was slightly larger than Willow Creek, with fifty or sixty households, earthen walls, blue roof tiles, and a small temple. The temple was dedicated to the Lord of the Soil; the incense had long since stopped burning, and the paint on the temple doors had completely peeled off. But the temple was still there, the Lord of the Soil was still there, and the people in the village were still there.

"Bai Ze, do the people in this village know about The Rift?"

"They know," Bai Ze replied, perched on his shoulder, its tone still calm. "There is a Rift thirty li to the north, and Devilish Qi drifts over every few days. More than a dozen people have already died. But they will not leave."

"Why?"

"Because to go south, they have to cross a mountain ridge. A squad of Devilish Soldiers guards that ridge; they cannot get past. To the east is a marsh—once you go in, you do not come out. To the west is a desert—no water, no food. They are trapped and cannot leave."

"Then why has no one come to save them before?"

"They have. People from the Zhenyi Alliance came; three died, and they retreated. The imperial army came; they were completely wiped out. Loose Cultivators came; some fled, some died. No one dares to come anymore."

Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment. "Then I have come."

"You are alone, can you do it?"

"Whether I can or not, I will try. No rush."

Bai Ze looked at him and said no more. It knew that when this man said "I will try," he had already made up his mind. He would not retreat, he would not flee, and he would not give up. Not because of how strong he was, but because he could not. He could not watch these people wait for death, could not watch them slowly rot away in despair.

---

The village was called Tudi Temple Village, named after that small temple.

When Lu Mingyuan walked into the village, the villagers were eating lunch. Thin porridge, pickles, and wild vegetable dumplings. It was even worse than Willow Creek; the vegetable dumplings were mixed with a lot of chaff, making them scratchy to swallow. Seeing him enter, no one stood up, no one picked up a hoe, and no one spoke. They just looked at him, their eyes devoid of light, hope, or fear. There was only numbness—the kind of numbness that said, "If I die, I die; if I live, I live."

"I have come to save you," Lu Mingyuan said.

No one responded. An old woman glanced at him, then lowered her head to continue drinking her porridge. A middle-aged man chewed a vegetable dumpling as if he were chewing wood. A child huddled in a corner, neither crying nor making a fuss, just watching him.

"There is a Rift to the north, and Devilish Soldiers are guarding the mountain ridge, so you cannot get out. I have come to lead you out."

Still, no one responded.

Lu Mingyuan stood there for a while. He knew these people did not want to stay; they just did not dare believe anymore. Those who came to save them had died. Those who came to help them had fled. Those who came to give them hope had been extinguished. They had believed time and again, but each time brought only disappointment. With too much disappointment, they stopped believing. Without belief, they stopped thinking. Without thinking, they stopped moving. Without moving, they just waited for death. Waiting for death was easier than waiting for hope.

He walked to the center of the village, to the front of that small temple. The temple doors were open, and the clay statue of the Lord of the Soil sat inside. Its colorful paint had peeled off, revealing the clay base beneath. But the statue was still smiling—a very kind, serene, and peaceful smile. It seemed to say—don't be afraid, I am here.

Lu Mingyuan looked at the clay statue for a long time. Then he turned to face the numb villagers.

"I know you do not believe me," he said. "You have believed too many times and been disappointed too many times. But I did not come here today to make you believe in me. I came to tell you—I am taking you away. Whether you believe it or not, I am taking you. Whether you go or not, I am taking you. Because being alive is better than being dead. If you are alive, you can wait for the dawn. If you are dead, everything is gone."

The old woman looked up at him. "How will you take us? There are Devilish Soldiers on the ridge, dozens of them. You are just one person; can you defeat them?"

"I cannot."

"If you cannot defeat them, how will you take us?"

"Go around them."

"Around? Around where? To the east is a marsh, to the west is a desert."

"Go around to the north."

The old woman was stunned. Everyone was stunned. To the north? To the north was The Rift, Devilish Qi, and a dead end.

"There is a Rift thirty li to the north, but The Rift is not directly north; it is to the Northwest. There is no Rift to the northeast, no Devilish Soldiers—only a mountain. If we cross that mountain, we will reach safety. The Devilish Soldiers will not go there because there are no roads, no water, and no people. But people can walk it. Even if we have to crawl, we can crawl across."

"Have you walked it?" the middle-aged man asked.

"No. But I have seen the maps and asked Bai Ze. That path is walkable."

"Who is Bai Ze?"

Lu Mingyuan pointed to Bai Ze on his shoulder. Bai Ze flew up from his shoulder, circled in the air, and with a flash of golden light, revealed its true form. It was a Divine Beast, snow-white all over, with a single horn on its head and eyes like bright stars. It suspended in mid-air, looking down at the villagers. Its gaze held compassion, mercy, and pity. It looked at these people as if they were its own children.

"Bai Ze, an ancient Divine Beast, knows the affairs of all ghosts and gods in the world and understands the nature of all things. If it says the path is walkable, then it is."

The villagers looked at Bai Ze, at the golden light, and at the Divine Beast. For the first time, there was light in their eyes. It was not the light of hope yet, but the light of curiosity. Curiosity about who this young man was, what this Divine Beast was, and whether that path really could be walked.

"You do not have to decide now," Lu Mingyuan said. "I will wait for you here. Those who want to leave, come with me. Those who do not, I will stand guard. I will guard until you want to leave, or until the dawn comes. No rush."

---

Tudi Temple Village, dusk.

Lu Mingyuan sat on the steps in front of the Earth Deity Temple, watching the sun set. The sun was mostly obscured by the Devilish Qi clouds, with only half its face showing—red, like eyes that had been crying. The light shone on the village, on the earthen walls, on the blue tiles, and on that small temple. The light was very weak, as faint as a firefly. But the light was still there, still shining, still glowing, still alive.

Bai Ze perched on his shoulder. "Do you think they will leave?"

"They will. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. No rush."

"You do not seem to be in a rush at all."

"Rushing is useless. If I rush, they will not believe me any sooner. If I rush, I will not become any stronger. If I rush, the Devilish Soldiers will not retreat. If I rush, The Rift will not be sealed. Rushing will only make me make mistakes. Making mistakes leads to deaths. Deaths lead to new grudges and hatred. New grudges and hatred make An stronger. When An is stronger, the Dharma Ending Age hastens. The more it hastens, the more I cannot rush."

"You have changed."

"How have I changed?"

"Before, you were a scholar—thinking a lot and saying little. Then you were a warrior—doing a lot and thinking little. Now you are a healer—thinking and doing in equal measure. Calm and unhurried, steady and composed. Thinking when you should think, doing when you should do. Thinking clearly before doing, and reflecting after doing. Thinking and doing are like the two legs of walking. The left leg thinks, the right leg does. Left leg, right leg; right leg, left leg. By walking this way, you eventually arrive."

Lu Mingyuan smiled. "Are you praising me?"

"It is not praise; it is the truth."

They fell silent, watching the sun sink bit by bit. Sinking behind the mountains, sinking below the horizon, sinking into the darkness. Night fell, and the stars came out. One, two, three... more and more, denser and denser. The starlight spilled down, over the village, onto the temple roof, onto the steps. The light was very weak, as faint as fireflies. But the light did not go out—no matter how strong the wind, no matter how deep the darkness, no matter how heavy the despair.

That light is called the stars. That light is called hope. That light is called Lu Mingyuan.

---

Tudi Temple Village, late at night.

Lu Mingyuan was startled awake by the sound of footsteps. He opened his eyes and saw the old woman standing before him, holding an oil lamp. The lamp was very old, its copper skin blackened, but the wick was still lit, flickering like a beating heart.

"I want to leave," the old woman said.

"Good."

"But I am not leaving for myself. I am leaving for my grandson. He is only six; he has not lived enough yet. I cannot let him die here."

"He will not. He will grow up, get married, have children, and enjoy the cool shade under that big willow tree."

"Big willow tree?"

"The big willow tree at the entrance of Willow Creek. It is over three hundred years old. When dawn comes, I will take you there to enjoy the shade."

The old woman looked at him, at this young man. There was light in his eyes—a light so bright it was like the sun. No longer a firefly, but the sun. That light shone on her face, on the oil lamp in her hand, and on the hope in her heart.

"Good. I will go call the others."

The old woman turned and walked into the darkness. That oil lamp flickered in the dark like a heartbeat, like a spark, like a hope. She went to one house, knocked on the door, and said, "Leave." She went to another, knocked, and said, "Leave." Knocking house by house, speaking to each family. Leave, leave, leave.

Half an hour later, all fifty or sixty households were standing in front of the temple. There were the elderly, children, men, and women. No one spoke, no one cried, no one made a fuss. They just stood there, looking at Lu Mingyuan, at the Divine Beast, and at that small temple.

"Let us go," Lu Mingyuan said. "I will lead the way; you follow. If we encounter danger, do not panic, do not run, and do not scatter. Stay close to me; I can protect you."

---

[part:gemini-2.5-flash]

The team set off. Lu Mingyuan walked at the very front, with Bai Ze perched on his shoulder, unfurling the bai ze map, which shimmered with golden light, scouting the path. The old woman walked at the very back, holding the oil lamp, illuminating the path, the people, and hope.

They walked northeast, towards that mountain. The mountain had no name; locals called it Stone Mountain because it was full of rocks, with no trees, no grass, and no water. Beyond that mountain lay a safe place. The road was long and difficult, but they were no longer afraid. Because someone was walking in front, someone was by their side, and someone was illuminating the way from behind.

After walking ten li, Bai Ze suddenly spoke. "There's strong Devilish Qi to the north. About a dozen demon soldiers are patrolling."

"Can we go around?"

"Yes. Go east, an extra five li. But the terrain there is complex, with many ravines and bumps, making it hard for the elderly and children to walk quickly."

"Then go around. Walk slower, no rush."

The team turned east, taking a long detour. The road was difficult, full of ravines and bumps, and the elderly and children walked very slowly. But no one complained, no one urged them on, and no one was anxious. Because they knew that a detour was better than losing their lives. Slower was better than faster. Living was better than dying.

After another ten li, Bai Ze spoke again. "There's strong Devilish Qi behind us. Not demon soldiers, but a demon general. One is chasing from the north. Very fast, it will catch up in a quarter of an hour."

Lu Mingyuan stopped, turned around, and looked north. The northern sky was pitch black, with no stars, no moon, only darkness. Something was moving in that darkness, chasing, approaching. It was a demon general, a Taiyi Realm demon general. Not mindless things like demon soldiers, but a demon general with intelligence, cultivation, and power.

"You go first," Lu Mingyuan said to the old woman. "Go east, cross that mountain ridge, and you'll be safe. I'll cover the rear."

"You alone?"

"One person is enough."

The old woman looked at him, at this young man. There was light in his eyes, a very bright light, as bright as the sun. That light shone on her face, on the oil lamp in her hand, and on the hope in her heart. She knew that this person would protect them. Just as he had said—I will guard. Guarding for one day is one day, guarding one village is one village.

"Go!" the old woman shouted, holding the oil lamp, leading the people, and walking east. No one looked back, no one cried, no one cursed. They just walked, walked quickly, walked desperately, walked east. Because they knew that behind them, someone was protecting them. That person was Lu Mingyuan, a Quasi-Saint, a healer, their protector.

Lu Mingyuan stood at the foot of the mountain, facing north. The darkness grew closer, the Devilish Qi grew heavier, and the hatred grew denser. He stretched out his hand, palm facing north. Wanxiang True Qi surged out, a faint, gentle golden light. That light was not an attack; it was a barrier. A barrier, spanning the foot of the mountain, between the village and the demon general, between life and death.

The demon general arrived. It was a humanoid shadow, wrapped in black Devilish Qi, its eyes red, red like blood, red like fire, red like hatred. It looked at Lu Mingyuan, at the golden barrier, and smiled. The laughter was awful, like iron scraping iron, like fingernails on a blackboard, like a dead man grinding his teeth.

"Quasi-Saint?" the demon general spoke, its voice hoarse, like sandpaper on wood. "Interesting. A Quasi-Saint, protecting these Mortals? Is it worth it?"

"It's worth it."

"Do you know who I am?"

"No. And I don't want to know."

"My name is Shiying. Taiyi Perfection. My mission is to kill these Mortals and make their hatred, resentment, and vengeance a part of the Gloom. You can't stop me."

"Let's see."

Shiying charged forward, crashing into the barrier. Golden light flashed, and it was bounced back. It stood still, looking at Lu Mingyuan, at the barrier. The barrier was thick, hard, and stable. It was not an ordinary barrier; it was a Quasi-Saint's barrier. Taiyi Perfection could not break it.

"Do you think a barrier can stop me?" Shiying said. "I can't break it, but I can exhaust you. How long can your True Qi last? One hour? Two hours? Three hours? Once it's depleted, what will you use to guard?"

Lu Mingyuan did not answer. He just stood there, behind the barrier, standing. His Dantian still held much True Qi, his body still had much strength, and his heart still had much patience. He could stand for a day, for ten days, for a hundred days. No rush.

Shiying charged again, crashing into the barrier again. It was bounced back again. Charged again, bounced again. Charged again, bounced again. It charged ten times, bounced ten times. The barrier did not break, the golden light did not extinguish, and Lu Mingyuan did not retreat.

"You're wasting my time," Shiying said.

"You're wasting your life," Lu Mingyuan said.

Shiying stopped, looking at Lu Mingyuan. For the first time, something appeared in its red eyes. Not hatred, not resentment, not vengeance. It was confusion. It didn't understand why this person would protect these Mortals. What was the point of these Mortals being alive? They couldn't cultivate, couldn't fight, couldn't mend the sky. They just lived, ate, drank, defecated, slept. Then died. Once dead, there was nothing left. What was the meaning of protecting them?

"You don't understand," Lu Mingyuan said. "You don't understand because you are incomplete. Lacking love, lacking understanding, lacking tolerance. You don't know that living itself is meaning. Alive, you can see the sun. Alive, you can see the stars. Alive, you can see flowers bloom. Alive, you can see children laugh. Alive, you can wait. Wait for dawn, wait for the demons to retreat, wait for spring to come. You don't understand because you haven't lived. You are only hatred, only resentment, only vengeance. But you are not human."

Shiying stood there, standing. Its red eyes flickered, moved, changed. The confusion expanded, spread, eroded. For the first time, it began to think—Who am I? Where did I come from? Why am I here? These questions, it had never thought about. Because it was only hatred, only resentment, only vengeance. Hatred didn't require thought, resentment didn't require thought, vengeance didn't require thought. But now it began to think. Once it thought, there was a crack. With a crack, light could enter.

Lu Mingyuan felt the crack. He withdrew the barrier and took a step forward.

"You can leave," he said. "Go, find your own path. No need to kill, no need to hate, no need to resent. You are incomplete, but incompleteness can be mended. You are darkness, but darkness can shine. You are hatred, but hatred can be dissolved. You are not a demon, not a ghost, not a monster. You are a patient. A patient can be cured."

Shiying looked at him, at this person standing in the darkness. There was light on his body, golden light, faint and gentle. That light was not dazzling, not scorching, not oppressive. That light was warm, soft, alive. That light shone on Shiying, in its red eyes, and on its heart.

"Go," Lu Mingyuan said. "Go."

Shiying turned and left. It walked very slowly, one step at a time, like a child just learning to walk. It didn't know where to go, how to walk, or how long to walk. But it was walking, walking one step at a time. As it walked, perhaps it would find its path. Once found, it would no longer hate. No longer hating, it would no longer resent. No longer resenting, it would no longer kill. No longer killing, it would live.

Bai Ze squatted on Lu Mingyuan's shoulder, watching Shiying's retreating back. "You're not killing it?"

"No."

"It will go back and call more demon generals."

"No, it won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because it started to think. Once it thinks, it's no longer a pure demon. Not a pure demon, it won't return to the Gloom. It will find its own path. If it finds it, it lives. If not, it dies. But whether it lives or dies, it will no longer kill these Mortals."

Bai Ze said nothing. It just looked at Lu Mingyuan, at this person who had transformed from a warrior into a healer. He no longer killed demon generals; not that he couldn't, but that he didn't want to. Because he knew that killing would only create more hatred, resentment, and vengeance. Not killing, perhaps, could save one. Saving one is one. One, too, is mending.

---

To the east, in a safe place. Behind a mountain ridge, there was a small city. At the city gate, the old woman stood, holding the oil lamp, waiting. When she saw Lu Mingyuan approaching, she smiled. That smile held tears, gratitude, and hope.

"Everyone made it?" Lu Mingyuan asked.

"Everyone made it. Fifty-six households, one hundred eighty-seven people, not one less."

"Good. Live well. When dawn breaks, I'll send you back."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Lu Mingyuan stood at the city gate, watching them enter the city. One hundred eighty-seven people, one oil lamp, one small temple. All alive, all well. He turned around, looking north. The northern sky was still pitch black, still had The Rift, still had Devilish Qi, still had hatred. But he was not afraid. Because he knew that mending one crack a day, three hundred sixty-five cracks a year. As he mended, more would be mended. More, and it would become bright. Bright, and the darkness would retreat.

"Let's go," Bai Ze said.

"Where to?"

"To the next village. There are fifteen more."

"Good."

Lu Mingyuan took a step, walking towards the next village. Unhurried, unagitated, unattached. Walking slowly, walking steadily, walking lightly. Taking one step at a time. Taking one day at a time. Taking one year at a time. As he walked, he would reach his destination. Once reached, he would guard. Once guarded, things would change. Once changed, there would be life. With life, there would be hope. With hope, dawn would break.