81: Chapter 81 The Northwest is a Long Road
In the morning light, Lu Mingyuan and Qingyuan walked down the stone steps of the mountain.
After walking a long distance, Lu Mingyuan glanced back. The ancient temple was still there, the old cypress tree was still there, and Xuanweizi was still standing under the tree, watching them. From such a distance, his face was blurred, but Lu Mingyuan knew his Master was smiling.
He turned around and continued forward.
Qingyuan followed behind, carrying a bundle, looking back every few steps. After looking back three or four times, he finally couldn't help but ask:
“Junior Martial Uncle, when can we come back?”
Lu Mingyuan did not look back.
“You can come back whenever you want to.”
Qingyuan scratched his head, not quite understanding the meaning of those words. Seeing that his Junior Martial Uncle had no intention of explaining, he stopped asking.
The two of them descended the mountain along the path they had walked countless times. The wildflowers by the road were still in bloom, the dewdrops still hung, and the birds were still singing. It was exactly the same as when he had left the mountain five years ago.
But Lu Mingyuan knew it was different.
Five years ago, leaving the mountain was for traveling, for learning, and for finding answers.
This time, leaving the mountain was to face the tribulation, to take on responsibility, and to mend the heavens.
Reaching the foot of the mountain, he stopped and looked toward the Northwest.
There, a very faint red scar marked the sky. Mortals could not see it, but as an Earth Immortal, he could see it clearly. That red scar was like a wound slashed across the firmament, stretching from the Northwest to an unknown distance.
That was the blood-colored Rift.
Five years later, it was still there. Moreover, it was larger than it had been five years ago.
Qingyuan followed his gaze but could see nothing, yet he knew what his Junior Martial Uncle was looking at.
“Junior Martial Uncle, that Rift... is it very powerful?”
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment.
“Powerful.”
“More powerful than you?”
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
“If I went there now, I would probably die.”
Qingyuan's face turned pale.
“Then... then we're still going?”
Lu Mingyuan looked at him and suddenly smiled.
“Scared?”
Qingyuan gritted his teeth.
“I am. But Junior Martial Uncle once said that being afraid is one thing, but the path that must be walked still has to be walked.”
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
“Then let's go.”
He set off, walking toward the Northwest.
Qingyuan hurried to keep up.
After a few steps, Lu Mingyuan suddenly asked:
“Qingyuan, do you know what protection is?”
Qingyuan was taken aback, thought for a moment, and said:
“Is it protecting the people who should be protected?”
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
“That is merely guarding. To protect is to guard the light within their hearts.”
He looked at the road ahead and said slowly:
“A person lives because there is light in their heart. A family lives because there is light in the home. If a nation has light, the people will not perish. If heaven and earth have light, the Dao will never be extinguished.”
“We are going to the Northwest not to fight, but to protect that small bit of light.”
Qingyuan listened with only a partial understanding, but he felt that when his Junior Martial Uncle said those words, his entire being seemed to glow.
After walking for half a day, they arrived at a small town.
The town was not large, consisting of only one street lined with shops selling sundries and food. Lu Mingyuan led Qingyuan into a noodle shop.
There weren't many people in the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who, seeing customers arrive, hurried to greet them.
“Two honored guests, what would you like to eat?”
“Two bowls of noodles.”
“Coming right up!”
The owner went to the kitchen to get busy. Lu Mingyuan sat by the window, looking out at the street.
People came and went on the street: a peddler with a carrying pole, a woman holding a child, children chasing each other, and an old man crouching in the corner soaking up the sun. It was a day so ordinary it couldn't be more ordinary.
But he knew that such days were coming to an end.
If the heavens could not be mended, if the An could not be stopped, these ordinary days and these ordinary people would all be swallowed up.
Seeing him lost in thought, Qingyuan did not dare to disturb him and just sat silently.
Before long, the noodles arrived. Two bowls of steaming hot soup noodles, with a few vegetable leaves and pieces of meat floating on top.
Lu Mingyuan lowered his head to eat.
As he ate, he suddenly asked:
“Owner, what is the name of this town?”
The owner was wiping a table and smiled upon hearing the question.
“To answer the guest, this is Zhangjiaji. If you go another thirty li to the Northwest, you'll reach the manor of Old Master Zhang Qingyuan.”
Lu Mingyuan's chopsticks paused.
Zhang Qingyuan.
He had heard this name at Longhu Mountain, at Wudang Mountain, and at Qingcheng as well.
A Loose Cultivator at the Late Stage of the Golden Core with extremely high attainment in Talisman Arts, yet he joined no School. He only reclaimed wasteland and farmed on the Northwest border, taking in those who were homeless.
Some said he was eccentric, some said he was kind, and some said he was a fool.
But everyone said he was the brightest lamp on the Northwest border.
Lu Mingyuan set down his chopsticks.
“Owner, how do I get to Old Master Zhang's manor?”
The owner pointed toward the Northwest.
“Leave the town and follow the main road. Thirty li away, there is a White Poplar Forest, and the manor is right behind it. Once you get there, you'll see it at a glance—the manor's chimney is always smoking.”
Lu Mingyuan nodded and lowered his head to continue eating.
After finishing the noodles and paying the bill, he continued the journey with Qingyuan.
Leaving the town, Qingyuan asked:
“Junior Martial Uncle, are we going to find that Zhang Qingyuan?”
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
“He is a Loose Cultivator who has managed to survive on the Northwest border for so many years; he is not simple. And—”
He looked toward the Northwest.
“That Rift is near his manor. He has been guarding that place for twenty years.”
Thirty li was neither too far nor too close.
With Lu Mingyuan's current cultivation, he could arrive in an instant with a movement technique. But he didn't. He walked step by step, passing through fields, over hills, and across small streams.
Qingyuan followed behind, resting when he was tired and continuing when he had rested enough.
At dusk, they finally saw the White Poplar Forest.
The forest was large, with rows of white poplar trees standing straight, their leaves rustling in the evening breeze. Behind the forest, a manor was faintly visible, and indeed, smoke was rising from its chimney.
Lu Mingyuan stood outside the forest and did not enter.
Qingyuan was puzzled.
“Junior Martial Uncle, aren't we going in?”
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
“Waiting for someone.”
Qingyuan was even more confused. Waiting for someone? Who?
But he didn't ask. If his Junior Martial Uncle said to wait, then they would wait.
The two stood outside the forest, watching the sun sink bit by bit, watching the clouds on the horizon turn from white to red, red to purple, and purple to gray.
As the sky darkened, a person walked out of the forest.
The man wore a faded blue cotton robe, his hair was graying, and his face was thin. He carried a lantern in his hand. The light was weak, but in the darkness of the night, it was exceptionally conspicuous.
He walked up to Lu Mingyuan, stopped, and sized him up.
Then, he smiled.
“You have come.”
Lu Mingyuan looked at him.
“You knew I was coming?”
Zhang Qingyuan shook his head.
“I didn't know. But I've come out every night with a lantern to wait. I've waited for twenty years, and today, I've finally found you.”
He lifted the lantern to illuminate Lu Mingyuan's face.
“An Earth Immortal. Such a young Earth Immortal. Good, very good.”
He turned and walked toward the forest.
“Come. The food is just ready.”
The manor was not large, with two courtyards, housing about twenty people.
There were old people, children, a man with a limp, and a blind old woman. They were all homeless people taken in by Zhang Qingyuan.
When they saw Zhang Qingyuan return, they all greeted him.
“Uncle Zhang is back!”
“Grandpa Zhang, time to eat!”
“Brother Zhang, you have guests today?”
Zhang Qingyuan responded to each of them and led Lu Mingyuan and Qingyuan into the main room.
An altar table was set in the main room, already laid out with food. It wasn't anything fancy: coarse grain buns, pickled vegetables, and a pot of thin porridge.
But it was steaming hot and looked heart-warming.
Zhang Qingyuan invited them to sit and served porridge for everyone.
“Eat. We can talk while we eat.”
Lu Mingyuan picked up the bowl and took a sip of the porridge. It was very thin, but it had been simmered for a long time and had the sweet taste of grain.
He set down the bowl and looked at Zhang Qingyuan.
“Senior Zhang—”
Zhang Qingyuan waved his hand.
“Don't call me Senior. You are an Earth Immortal and I am but a Golden Core. I cannot accept you calling me Senior. Just call me Old Zhang.”
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
“Old Zhang, how far is The Rift from here?”
Zhang Qingyuan's hand picking up food paused.
“Thirty li.”
He set down his chopsticks and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
“You came for it?”
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
Zhang Qingyuan was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:
“Do you know what that is?”
“I know. A Heavenly Dao Rift, a precursor to the Dharma-Ending Kalpa.”
Zhang Qingyuan was startled, then smiled.
“Good, good. To know and still come shows you are no reckless man.”
He stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.
Outside, the night was heavy. To the Northwest, a very faint red light shimmered indistinctly on the horizon.
“Twenty years,” he said slowly. “I've watched it grow from a small dot to its current size. It grows by one li every year—not fast, but it never stops.”
“I stay here to guard it, not to block it—I cannot block it. I am here so that these children can have a few more years of peaceful life.”
He turned around and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
“You have come to block it?”
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
“I have come to mend it.”
Mend.
That word left Zhang Qingyuan stunned.
He looked at Lu Mingyuan for a long time, then suddenly laughed.
The laugh was very light and faint, like a breeze blowing across the wilderness.
“Mending the Heavens. I have lived for six hundred years, and this is the first time I've heard someone say that.”
He walked back to the table, sat down, and took a sip of porridge.
“Do you know how to mend it?”
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
“I don't. But someone has to do it.”
Zhang Qingyuan nodded.
“Then do it.”
He set down the bowl and looked at Lu Mingyuan.
“Tomorrow, I will take you to see it.”
Lu Mingyuan looked at him.
“Aren't you afraid?”
Zhang Qingyuan smiled.
“Afraid of what? I've guarded this place for twenty years just to wait for someone who would say 'mend'. Now that I've found him, what is there to fear?”
He stood up, walked to the door, and looked back.
“Get some rest. We leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
With that, he pushed the door and left.
Only Lu Mingyuan and Qingyuan remained in the room.
Qingyuan looked at Lu Mingyuan, wanting to ask something but not daring to.
Lu Mingyuan picked up the bowl and finished the remaining porridge.
“Go to sleep. Tomorrow, we have work to do.”
The night grew deep.
Lu Mingyuan sat by the window, gazing at the faint red light in the Northwest.
The red light was larger and brighter than before. It was as if someone had lit a lamp over there, an ominous lamp.
He thought of what Xuanweizi had said—someone is waiting for you there.
The one waiting must be someone like Zhang Qingyuan.
Guarding for twenty years just to wait for someone who says 'mend'.
He suddenly felt that this journey was worth it.
Behind him, Qingyuan had already fallen asleep, snoring softly.
Lu Mingyuan did not sleep. He closed his eyes and felt the aura coming from the Northwest.
The aura was faint and weak, but he could feel it—it was resentment, the resentment left behind by countless living beings after death. They gathered together, twisting into a single strand like a thorn pricked into the Heavenly Dao.
If the thorn was not pulled out, the heavens would never be whole.
But how could he pull it out?
He did not know.
But he knew that if he went to see it tomorrow, perhaps he would find out.
Outside the window, the wind blew through the White Poplar Forest, the leaves rustling loudly.
In the distance, a dog barked somewhere, then all went quiet again.
Lu Mingyuan opened his eyes and looked out the window.
The night was very dark, but that red light on the horizon remained lit.
He looked at the red light and suddenly remembered his Master's words:
“Where there is light, there is love. Where there is love, one can guard. If one can guard, one can mend.”
He looked down at his hands.
There was nothing in his hands. But he knew he had light.
That was enough.
He stood up, walked to the bed, and lay down.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep.
Tomorrow, there is work to do.