86: Chapter 86 Temporary Rest and Reorganization
Emerging from the Yao Pond Palace, Lu Mingyuan realized he was drenched in sweat.
It wasn't from exhaustion, but from the intangible pressure of facing the Queen Mother of the West. She did nothing, merely sat there speaking, yet every word, every glance, weighed upon him like a mountain.
He stood outside the hall, took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky.
The sky of Kunlun was a pale gold, sunless yet forever bright. A few auspicious clouds drifted slowly by, with cranes soaring upon them, letting out clear, melodious cries.
"Tired?"
A voice came from behind. Lu Mingyuan turned. It was the woman in white. She had appeared behind him at some unknown moment, still carrying that white-sheathed sword, her face expressionless.
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"A little."
The woman looked at him, a hint of imperceptible softness flashing in her gaze.
"Come with me. Her Majesty ordered you to rest first. Once your wounds are healed, we can discuss serious matters."
She turned and walked down the mountain.
Lu Mingyuan followed. They passed by the Yao Pond, traversed the peach grove, and arrived before a small, modest courtyard.
The courtyard wasn't large: blue bricks, grey tiles, a few rooms. An old locust tree grew in the yard, with a well beneath it. A stone table and several stone stools were placed by the well. It was so simple it didn't seem like a residence in Kunlun, more like a farmhouse in the mortal world.
"This is..."
"Your quarters." The woman pushed the door open. "Her Majesty said you don't seem like someone who enjoys living in jade towers and jeweled pavilions. A courtyard like this might suit you better."
Lu Mingyuan looked at the courtyard, at the old locust tree, the well, the stone table and stools, and suddenly thought of the ancient temple on Zhongnan Mountain.
The same simplicity, the same quiet, the same tree and well.
He smiled.
"Her Majesty is thoughtful."
The woman nodded and turned to leave.
"Senior," Lu Mingyuan called out to her, "I haven't yet asked for your esteemed name."
The woman's steps halted.
"Yao Pond Palace, Yunhua."
With that, her figure flickered and vanished deep within the peach grove.
Lu Mingyuan entered the courtyard and sat on a stone stool.
The wound on his chest was mostly healed; the potency of that Medicinal Pill was still at work, his shattered bones knitting back together. But physical wounds were easy to heal—what about the wounds in his heart?
He closed his eyes, recalling everything that had just happened in the Yao Pond Palace.
The Queen Mother of the West said there were things he should know now.
What things?
About The Rift? About the core of resentment? About the Witch-Demon Calamity, the Investiture of the Gods, the Journey to the West? Or about—why he was chosen?
He remembered Bone-Eroding. That ten-foot-tall skeletal demon general, that bone blade, the icy coldness of the five bony fingers pressed against his forehead. If not for the jade pendant, if Yunhua hadn't arrived in time, he would be a corpse now.
Taiyi Realm.
An existence two major Realms above him.
What could he possibly fight with?
He thought again of those Chaos Demon Soldiers, those unkillable things. Although he had finally comprehended the principle of "Return," that was only effective against the small fry. Would "Return" still work against a demon general of Bone-Eroding's level?
He pondered for a long time but found no answer.
Opening his eyes, he saw the setting sun already slanting westward. Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves of the old locust tree, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
He suddenly thought of Qingyuan.
That silly kid was probably still waiting back at the village, wasn't he? He wondered if Yunhua's words, "someone will go fetch him," were true...
As he was thinking, the courtyard gate was suddenly pushed open.
"Junior Martial Uncle!"
A familiar figure rushed in, nearly crashing into the stone table.
Lu Mingyuan looked at that familiar face and smiled.
"You're here?"
Qingyuan gasped for breath, his eyes slightly red.
"Junior Martial Uncle! Are you alright? That beam of light that night scared me to death! Later, a sister in white clothes came and said you were here, told me to follow. Elder Zhang came too, he's right behind..."
Before he could finish, Zhang Qingyuan walked in carrying a lantern.
He still wore that faded blue robe, still carried that heart lamp. Only his face was somewhat pale, as if he had walked a great distance.
Seeing Lu Mingyuan, he stopped and looked him up and down.
"Still alive?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Still alive."
Zhang Qingyuan let out a sigh of relief and walked over to sit by the stone table.
"Alive is good."
He placed the lantern on the table. The flame flickered a few times before slowly steadying.
The three of them sat in the courtyard, none speaking.
The last rays of the setting sun spilled into the yard, warm and imbued with an indescribable peace.
After a long while, Zhang Qingyuan spoke.
"That night... what was that thing?"
Lu Mingyuan was silent for a moment.
"A demon general. Called Bone-Eroding. Taiyi Realm."
Zhang Qingyuan drew a sharp breath.
Taiyi Realm.
He had lived six hundred years; the strongest he'd ever seen were great powers at the Body Integration Stage. Taiyi Realm—that was a legendary figure, an existence that could hold a position among the celestial ranks in the heavenly court.
"How did you survive?" he asked.
Lu Mingyuan touched the jade pendant on his chest.
"Master gave it."
Zhang Qingyuan looked at the pendant, his gaze complex.
"Your Master... is no ordinary man."
Lu Mingyuan offered no explanation.
He didn't know how to explain. Say Xuanweizi was Taishang? Would Zhang Qingyuan even believe it? And even if he did, then what?
Some things were better learned when the time was right.
"What about you?" Lu Mingyuan asked. "How is the village?"
Zhang Qingyuan shook his head.
"Fine. That thing chased after you, didn't head towards the village. Later, that girl in white came and said you were in Kunlun, told me and Qingyuan to join you. I entrusted the village to Old Liu and brought Qingyuan here."
He paused, then added:
"Old Liu has been with me for twenty years, also a Loose Cultivator, Golden Core Early Stage. With him there, those people will be fine."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"That's good."
Qingyuan, listening beside them in a fog of confusion, couldn't help but ask:
"Junior Martial Uncle, what did that thing actually look like? Was it really that powerful?"
Lu Mingyuan glanced at him.
"Ten feet tall, skull for a head, carrying a bone blade, green fire blazing in its eyes. If you saw it, would your legs go weak?"
Qingyuan thought for a moment, then nodded honestly.
"Weak."
Zhang Qingyuan couldn't help but laugh.
Qingyuan flushed and muttered, "Wouldn't yours go weak if you saw it?"
Zhang Qingyuan stopped laughing and said seriously:
"Weak. But weak or not, you have to run when it's time to run. And when you can't run, you have to fight."
He looked at Lu Mingyuan, something in his gaze.
"That night... you didn't run?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
"I didn't run."
"Why?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"There were people in the village. You were holding the lamp; they could only see the path because of it."
Zhang Qingyuan fell silent.
After a long time, he stood up and picked up the lantern.
"I'll go find some food. You two rest."
He pushed the door and went out.
Qingyuan watched his retreating back and whispered:
"Junior Martial Uncle... did Elder Zhang just cry?"
Lu Mingyuan didn't answer.
He simply watched that distant lantern for a long, long time.
Night fell, and Yunhua came again.
She brought some food—a few Spiritual Qi fruits, a pot of Yao Pond spring water, and a small jar of honey. Not much, but each item radiated Spiritual Qi.
"Her Majesty says you should focus on healing your wounds." She placed the items on the stone table. "Once you're healed, she will summon you. Then, there are things you should be told."
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"Thank you, Senior. Thank Her Majesty."
Yunhua looked at him, seeming to hesitate.
Lu Mingyuan sensed her unease.
"Senior, please speak your mind."
Yunhua was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:
"When you saw Her Majesty, how long did you look directly at her?"
Lu Mingyuan was taken aback. He thought for a moment.
"I don't remember clearly. From the moment I entered until I left, I kept looking."
A strange light flashed in Yunhua's eyes.
"Do you know how many beings in the Three Realms dare to look directly at Her Majesty?"
Lu Mingyuan shook his head.
Yunhua held up three fingers.
"Three. The Great Mage Xuandu, Sun Wukong, and you."
She paused, then added:
"Sun Wukong is a Stone Monkey born of Heaven, knowing no awe. The Great Mage Xuandu is Taishang's first disciple, backed by the Dao Ancestor. And you?"
Lu Mingyuan thought for a moment.
"Me? I just think looking at someone when you speak to them is polite."
Yunhua was stunned.
She looked at Lu Mingyuan as if he were a monster.
Then, she smiled.
It was the first time Lu Mingyuan had seen her smile.
Very light, very faint, like moonlight falling on a lake.
"Interesting," she said. "Rest well and heal. Once you're better, Her Majesty still has words for you."
She turned and vanished into the night.
The night grew deep.
Lu Mingyuan sat in the courtyard, gazing at the sky.
Kunlun's night was not much different from its day—still a pale golden canopy, just darker, as if veiled by a thin gauze. Not many stars, but each one shone brightly, like lanterns hung right before his eyes.
He thought of Zhang Qingyuan's lantern, of what Xuanweizi had said about "where there is light, there is love," of what Yunhua had said about "looking directly is polite."
What, exactly, was light?
He looked down at his own hands. There was nothing on them, but he knew something was within.
It was the roads walked over five years, the books read, the Dao comprehended.
It was the talismans of the Daoist school, the Chan of the Buddhist school, the heart of the Confucian school, the sword of the Martial Artist.
It was the Three Teachings and Nine Schools, the myriad methods returning to their source, finally fused into one furnace—the Wanxiang True Qi.
It was also—himself.
He suddenly remembered something Xuanweizi had said:
"Cultivation is walking. Walk the path beneath your feet well, and you'll naturally know how to proceed."
He had been walking.
From Heyin City to Zhongnan Mountain, from Zhongnan Mountain to Longhu Mountain, Wudang Mountain, Mount Qingcheng, to Shaolin, Daxiangguo Temple, to Yuelu, White Deer Grotto, to the Beggars Gang, the Tang Clan, Huashan, to the edge of The Rift, to Kunlun.
He had walked far, walked wearily.
But he hadn't stopped.
Because the path was beneath his feet, and his heart was in the present.
He stood up and walked into the room.
Inside, Qingyuan was already asleep, snoring softly. Zhang Qingyuan lay on another bed, that lantern placed by the bedside, its flame flickering, faint yet tenacious.
Lu Mingyuan lay down and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow had tomorrow's affairs.
Today, he would rest properly.
The next morning, Lu Mingyuan was awakened by a fragrant aroma.
Opening his eyes, he saw Qingyuan already bustling about in the courtyard. The kid had somehow found a pot, set it on the stone table with a fire beneath, something bubbling inside.
Zhang Qingyuan sat to the side, holding a wooden stick, idly poking the fire.
"Junior Martial Uncle, you're awake?" Qingyuan looked up. "Come try the congee I made! The rice is from Elder Zhang, the water's from the Yao Pond, and I added a few slices of that... Spiritual Qi fruit Sister Yunhua gave us!"
Lu Mingyuan walked over and looked into the pot.
The congee was a bit burnt, but the aroma was indeed enticing. He ladled some into a bowl and tasted it.
"Not bad."
Qingyuan beamed with delight.
Zhang Qingyuan also ladled a bowl and drank slowly.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the old locust tree, falling upon the three of them, upon the congee in the pot, upon every corner of the courtyard.
Very warm.
Very quiet.
Very good.
Holding his bowl, Lu Mingyuan looked at the sunlight and suddenly thought of a question.
He wanted to ask the Queen Mother of the West: Could the chosen one make their own choice?
But after thinking, he felt there was no need to ask.
Because no matter the answer, he had to keep walking.
So he would keep walking.
After finishing the congee, he set down his bowl and looked at Zhang Qingyuan.
"Old Zhang, once my wounds are healed, come with me to see the Queen Mother of the West?"
Zhang Qingyuan was startled.
"Me? I can go?"
Lu Mingyuan nodded.
"You've guarded The Rift for twenty years. You deserve to know those things more than I do."
Zhang Qingyuan was silent for a long time.
Then, he smiled.
"Alright. Let's go together."
Beyond the courtyard, deep within the peach grove, the faint cry of a crane could be heard.
A new day had begun.