Chapter 674: I Remember

They descended the mountain.

The stone steps of the mountain path had long since been invaded by weeds from both sides. With the Daoist temple destroyed and pilgrims gone, no one maintained the trail anymore, and some sections had even cracked and sagged.

Zheng Fan did not walk slowly.

He moved at an ordinary, steady pace.

Only... his eyes were closed.

Yet within Zheng Fan's "vision," he could see the road ahead.

Especially Tian Wujing walking in front, leading the way.

Anyone who grew up with an older brother or sister might have experienced something similar as a child.

They walked ahead.

You laughed, called out to them, and excitedly ran after them until you could grab their hand.

Or perhaps... you were standing helpless in a vast sea of people when suddenly you spotted a familiar silhouette.

In that instant, your eyes finally found somewhere to focus.

And your entire body settled.

As he walked...

Zheng Fan suddenly discovered that someone beside him was clutching at his trouser leg.

He lowered his head.

No surprise.

It was the Demon Child.

He still looked like an infant.

But this creature, normally fearless and violently hostile toward everything under Heaven, now appeared timid and shrinking.

There was fear in his eyes.

He did not even dare look ahead.

What frightened him... was the figure walking in front.

One really could not blame the Demon Child.

Even the Blind Man, A’Ming, and the others had privately muttered before that if their Master had been Tian Wujing instead, that might not have been a blessing at all.

It might have been a torment none of them could endure.

The Demon Child's temperament contained very distinct love and hate.

He rarely hid what he felt.

Because in his short yet somehow "long" life, he had never truly grown up.

He had never even experienced what growth felt like.

A child's heart remained intact.

Tian Wujing had known long ago that there was a "spirit" beside Zheng Fan.

Such a thing was not especially rare.

It was not that different from a demon beast.

Strictly speaking, the Pixiu Tian Wujing and Zheng Fan rode were also demon beasts, even divine beasts of a sort, and far rarer than ordinary spirits.

Besides... on that night in Ying Capital, Tian Wujing had personally fought the Fire Phoenix spirit above the Chu imperial palace.

Perhaps certain things could terrify ordinary people, awaken greed in them, or drive them to investigate and seek answers.

To Tian Wujing... they were simply... that.

Zheng Fan stopped.

He bent down.

He picked up the Demon Child and continued walking downhill.

At first, the Demon Child clutched Zheng Fan's arm tightly with both hands.

Then he frowned, apparently realizing this looked embarrassing, and slowly loosened his grip.

He still did not resist being carried.

His head remained pressed against Zheng Fan's chest.

There was absolutely no chance he would turn around to look back.

The road... continued.

And the road remained only a road.

There were no strange transformations on either side.

He did not walk and walk only to suddenly fall into one of Zheng Fan's memories, or one of Tian Wujing's.

Because in his previous life, Zheng Fan had personally made a clean break.

He still retained certain habits and preferences from that life, but no lingering attachment.

As for Tian Wujing... he was so painfully clear-headed... that even qi deviation had become a luxury.

Perhaps this road could not be called spectacular.

But they simply descended one stone step after another.

And as they walked...

Zheng Fan's heart grew calmer and calmer.

A heart still as stopped water.

A heart clear as ice.

Heaven might collapse and still fail to startle it.

All things could scatter on the wind, while within one's sleeves remained a universe.

Whether those phrases were cultivation formulas or merely pretty descriptions, whether they were true or false, right or wrong... none of them were worth pondering anymore.

This was a difference in height.

A difference in state of mind.

At that moment...

Zheng Fan suddenly understood why one casual sentence from him had once been enough to plunge the Sword Saint into enlightenment.

On the road of cultivation... if the Sword Saint were an adult... then Zheng Fan was merely a child.

A little boy.

A child could memorize countless ancient poems.

The silkworm spins until death, its silk exhausted;
the candle weeps until ash, its tears of wax run dry.

Ten years, the living and dead separated beyond measure;
I do not try to remember, yet cannot forget.

Do not be surprised that spring sleep deepens after wine;
once we gambled over books and spilled tea in laughter,
and thought such ordinary days would last forever.

A child could recite those lines smoothly.

Ask what they meant, and he could explain them.

Describe them.

But while he recited... he might look up... and discover that the adult walking beside him, face weathered by years, already had tears streaming down his cheeks.

That was the difference.

The phrases Zheng Fan had casually tossed around in the past had only ever been understood.

They had not been lived.

And Zheng Fan's own heart had never truly settled.

Too much restlessness remained inside him.

Part of it came from his love of leisure and freedom in this life.

Part came from years of iron and horses, from a life split across too many battlefields, scattering his attention in every direction.

He had indeed persisted in martial training.

But a true martial heart... he did not possess.

That was why, from ancient times onward, true masters rarely crossed professions.

And that was why... in this world... there was only one Tian Wujing.

The Great Dao is fifty.

Heaven unfolds forty-nine.

Man escapes through the one.

Nothing was absolute.

Nothing could be completely grasped.

Whenever you tried to cut everything with one stroke, the world would always place an exception before your eyes.

And then, if you looked carefully... thought carefully... you would realize that the exception truly was only an exception.

It would almost be cleaner to cut it away too.

Step after step...

Zheng Fan genuinely forgot the passage of time.

Forgot his surroundings.

Only stillness and peace remained in his heart.

At last... they reached the foot of the mountain.

There was no snapping of fingers that suddenly opened Heaven and Earth.

No low shout followed by eyes opening onto a transformed dusk.

No feeling that a lifetime had passed, no muddled self-doubt, no frantic turning of the head.

Zheng Fan did not even know when he had opened his eyes.

Nor did he know exactly when he had finished descending the mountain.

Everything happened naturally.

Like water reaching its channel.

Without disturbance.

He looked down.

The Demon Child was no longer in his arms.

The stone was still there.

And his own hands had long since lowered.

This had not been a dream.

Not an out-of-body wandering.

He really had simply... walked down from the mountain.

Zheng Fan spread his arms.

He drew in a deep breath.

And suddenly... everything visible beneath the night sky seemed beautiful in a way that filled him with pleasure.

"Tired?"

Tian Wujing's voice came from behind him.

Zheng Fan turned and looked at Old Tian.

He smiled.

"The feeling is mysterious beyond words."

His cultivation had not loosened.

There had been no miraculous final step where he reached the foot of the mountain and naturally broke through.

Before, he had always told himself, and comforted himself, that haste made waste and a breakthrough was only a matter of time.

Now...

Zheng Fan could clearly feel that a breakthrough truly was only a matter of time.

Perhaps in one month.

Perhaps in three.

Perhaps in half a year.

When it was time... it would come.

"Your comprehension is actually very high," Tian Wujing said.

"I've always thought so too."

"Take it slowly. You began martial training late, but there is more than enough time. In truth, the road of cultivation is much like commanding armies. The greatest taboo is greedily rushing for achievement. Your previous state was not bad."

"Then why didn't it work?" Zheng Fan asked.

"Because deep down, you did not trust that state yourself."

Zheng Fan heard this and nodded.

Tian Wujing reached out and pointed toward the mountain path behind them.

"Zheng Fan, look at that road once more."

Zheng Fan turned to look.

"What is 'mysterious beyond words'?" Tian Wujing asked.

Those had been Zheng Fan's own words moments earlier.

"Mystery beyond mystery... arcane arts? The principles of Heaven and Earth?" Zheng Fan tried.

Tian Wujing shook his head.

"Is it rain entering the earth without sound? Silence without trace? Divine craftsmanship leaving no mark?"

Like the descent he had just experienced.

It had seemed as though he saw many things that were different, but nothing physical had actually appeared.

He could not even remember when he had opened his eyes.

Tian Wujing shook his head again.

"Fate? Bonds? Or some hidden harmony? Maybe a kind of contract reached with Heaven and Earth, borrowing strength from them?"

Zheng Fan began unloading every possible answer from the question bank.

Perhaps a blind cat might catch a dead rat.

Tian Wujing spoke.

"Do you remember when Master Cang of Qian's Back Mountain entered the lands around my capital and severed Great Yan's dragon vein outside Yanjing?"

"I remember."

"Did he sever it?"

"I heard that he did."

That day, a black dragon had manifested above Great Yan's imperial palace.

At the cost of twelve natal white lotuses, Master Cang had severed it in one strike.

Even now, many commoners in Yanjing swore with complete certainty that on that day, they had heard the miserable howl of a black dragon coming from the direction of the imperial palace.

"Then let this Prince ask you again. Has Great Yan fallen?"

"No. In the years afterward, Great Yan's iron cavalry expanded the borders and won battle after battle."

"Has the state collapsed?"

"No."

"Has the nation's fortune been cut off?"

"No."

"You could answer that His Majesty's bodily foundation was ruined because the dragon vein was severed."

"I... I did think that before."

"His Majesty's health was poor to begin with. For him to endure from the first year of Yongping until now is already no small thing."

"Yes."

"In your opinion, will Great Yan one day face the danger of destruction? Tell the truth. What is in your heart."

Zheng Fan pursed his lips.

"I think there is no immortal dynasty in this world."

"Exactly. Great Yan may fall in the future. Perhaps it dies in the second generation. Perhaps the throne passes down for several hundred years. Perhaps a thousand. So where, exactly, did the dragon vein that Master Cang severed manifest its effect?"

"Your Highness..."

Tian Wujing's voice deepened.

"Answer again. What is mystery beyond mystery?"

"It is..."

A smile appeared on Tian Wujing's face.

He gave the answer himself.

"Occultists and Qi Refiners spend their lives investigating Heaven. They claim to defy Heaven, to walk a road that deceives Heaven. But in truth, it is just like the mountain path you walked earlier. Those who deceive Heaven cannot escape first deceiving themselves. Only after deceiving themselves can they deceive the masses. And once the masses are deceived, the false naturally becomes true. So-called Qi Refiners, so-called occultists: in this Prince's eyes, they are little different from the confidence tricksters of the jianghu. The former simply have the audacity to posture atop mountain peaks and cloud seas, or behind the imperial court. The latter remain in the marketplace. As for so-called mystery beyond mystery, believe in it and it exists. Do not believe, and it is not worth a fart."

Zheng Fan fell into thought.

"Heaven and Earth are vast. Since you sit in the position of Great Yan's Marquis of Pingxi, you will inevitably encounter such things in the future. Perhaps fortune-telling. Perhaps heavenly secrets. Perhaps prophecy. In short, all of it will arrive wrapped in a mysterious appearance. Believe, and it exists. Do not believe, and it does not. Many people can say those words. Very few can truly live by them. You descended the mountain following this Prince's shadow. Then remember this Prince's words. Do not believe in fate. You must believe absolutely that no one in this world can calculate another person's destiny."

Zheng Fan suddenly thought of that Demon King prophecy.

The next instant... he nodded hard.

"I understand."

"If you understand that, then even if your cultivation stops at Fifth Grade or Fourth Grade, with the guards around you, anyone trying to attack you directly and succeed would find it nearly impossible. And if those so-called mighty experts of secluded sects try to act against you, then so long as you remain upright within yourself, one act of disbelief can cripple seventy or eighty percent of their tricks. What remains is nothing more than something like Wei Zhonghe's little green sword hidden in his sleeve. Compared with the Sword Saint's sword, it is not worth mentioning. So-called flying sand and rolling stones are mostly tricks of the eye."

At this point...

Tian Wujing looked at Zheng Fan.

He continued:

"If one day you truly feel you cannot endure it, remember this day. Remember this mountain road."

Zheng Fan drew in a deep breath and clenched his teeth.

He had a sharp instinct that a man like Old Tian would never say something without a target.

Which meant... was he warning Zheng Fan that some specific situation might be waiting ahead?

"It's dark."

"Mm. Ah?"

"Let's go back."

"All right."

The two Pixiu left beneath the mountain path earlier had long since grown bored and lain down.

One on each side.

They looked half-asleep, half-dazed.

Divine beasts did not necessarily feel any kinship toward their own kind.

If anything, they generally looked down on one another.

But it was equally impossible for these two to develop any real conflict.

Their masters were closer than brothers.

At last, when the two men returned, both Pixiu slowly stood and shook the grass from their bodies.

The Prince of Jingnan's Pixiu gave Zheng Fan's Pixiu an extraordinarily arrogant snort.

At that moment, Zheng Fan's Pixiu opened its mouth, bit down on a cord hanging beneath its neck, and shuddered.

A suit of black fish-scale armor that had been stored inside the saddle suddenly "flowed" outward and perfectly covered its entire body.

It looked majestic beyond words.

The Prince of Jingnan's Pixiu stared.

Zheng Fan's Pixiu proudly raised its head.

This armor had been personally forged for it by two supreme Demon Kings.

Siniang and Xue San had worked together to customize it for the Pixiu.

It greatly increased defense without slowing the beast's movement.

At the same time, they had minimized weight and burden as much as possible.

Most importantly... it looked damned handsome.

Siniang and Xue San had spent enormous effort on the armor.

But it was necessary.

Who told their Master to be so disastrously unlucky on battlefields?

Zheng Fan's armored Pixiu had barely enjoyed its moment of triumph when Zheng Fan walked over and slapped it on the head.

Smack!

Marquis Zheng cursed:

"You little bastard. Do you have any idea how troublesome this thing is to fold back up?"

At that moment... the Prince of Jingnan's Pixiu actually walked over to Zheng Fan on its own.

It gently nudged him with its mouth.

Then turned its head and rubbed against him from another angle.

Zheng Fan's Pixiu immediately began breathing heavily through its nostrils, glaring with both beast eyes.

Marquis Zheng, however, was generous.

He reached out and stroked Old Tian's Pixiu.

"When we come back this time, I'll have someone make a suit for you too."

After saying that...

Zheng Fan looked toward Tian Wujing.

Tian Wujing mounted his beast.

"It will come find you."

...

The next day... ten thousand troops from the central command of the Jingnan Army marched out of Litian City.

They escorted their Prince and the Marquis of Pingxi toward Yanjing.

Almost on the same day... far to the west... at the edge of the desert...

Prince Zhenbei mounted his Pixiu.

Facing the family members gathered behind him to see him off, he laughed and shouted:

"Damn, I've been craving it to death. Come on! Let's enter the capital and eat roast duck!"

That night... the Ninth-Five Supreme within the Rear Garden ignored the chill in the air.

Supported by Wei Zhonghe... he climbed the tallest viewing tower in the garden.

He looked east.

Then west.

Afterward...

His Majesty grew tired.

Wei Zhonghe carried over a chair and helped him sit.

His Majesty looked west once more.

Then east.

Finally... he placed both hands on his knees and lightly patted them.

"They're almost here."

"Yes, Your Majesty. According to the last memorial, and counting the days, it should be soon."

The Emperor of Yan nodded faintly.

He looked at Wei Zhonghe.

A smile appeared on his face, something rarely seen since he moved into the Rear Garden.

"I think I had a dream last night."

Seeing the Emperor smile while speaking of a dream, Wei Zhonghe immediately smiled as well and knelt.

"Did Your Majesty dream of an auspicious omen? This servant congratulates Your Majesty."

A sovereign's dream had its own rules.

A nightmare was a warning.

A pleasant dream was an auspicious sign.

The Son of Heaven was Heaven's son.

Naturally, Heaven's will protected him.

Wei Zhonghe's reaction followed palace etiquette.

Of course... one first had to know how to read the Emperor's expression.

The Emperor of Yan said:

"I dreamed Liangting came asking me for a chicken leg. I refused, and he even wanted to hit me. Later, I tricked Liangting. I told him the Tian Clan was a great household, overflowing with delicacies from mountain and sea, and I coaxed him into sneaking into the Tian estate with me to look at the Tian family's young lady."

The smile on the Emperor's face deepened.

"By coincidence, we ran into Wujing. He actually pointed at Liangting and me and cursed us as shameless philanderers with no sense of propriety. Isn't that funny? Wujing was young, but he actually recognized me at the time. During a grand court assembly, he had followed his father, the head of the Tian Clan, and toasted me when I was still Crown Prince. Guess what happened next?"

Wei Zhonghe immediately put on a curious expression.

"Oh? Your Majesty, what happened next?"

In truth...

Wei Zhonghe felt a little sour inside.

He had heard this story long ago.

His Majesty had told it long ago.

And yet... the Emperor still recounted it with such delight.

"I had Liangting give that brat Wujing a proper beating. Beat him until his nose was swollen and his face bruised. We even startled the Tian family's young lady into coming out. Heh. Later, Liangting told me that perhaps, in this entire lifetime, that would be the only time he ever managed to beat Wujing to the ground. After that, he probably wouldn't get another chance."

The Emperor pointed as though Liangting still stood before him.

Laughing, he continued:

"If you want to hit him, then hit him. You don't need to care about my face. Even if he's my future brother-in-law, if he refuses to behave, then he still deserves a beating. Besides, what is a younger brother-in-law for if not to be beaten?"

Then...

Liangting looked at me.

His face had gone nearly red from holding it in.

At last he could not stop himself from laughing.

He said:

'Big Brother, you'd better treat Sister-in-law well in the future. This brother-in-law of yours will not be easy to provoke. I used everything I had earlier and only barely managed to beat the brat down. How old is he now? I'm guessing that was truly the only chance in my entire life I'll ever have to beat him, because later I probably really won't be able to beat him at all.'

As the Emperor of Yan spoke... the corners of his eyes slowly grew damp.

Wei Zhonghe immediately took out a handkerchief and carefully reached forward to wipe them.

The Emperor pushed his hand away.

He wiped his own eyes with his fingers.

Still smiling, he said:

"Look at that. He really can't beat him anymore. Heh."

[End of Chapter 674]