Chapter 59: Sleep

In the Ma family residence in Apricot Blossom Alley…

The deity in golden armor returned to the courtyard after searching the entire town. Strangely, however, no one had noticed it as it traversed the streets and alleys.

Ma Kuxuan was squatting outside the door, and upon seeing the deity return, a hopeful expression spread across his face. “How is it?” the Militarian cultivator from True Martial Mountain asked.

The deity, looking extremely dignified and mighty in its suit of armor, moved its mouth, but Ma Kuxuan couldn’t hear a word. He frantically looked at the swordsman, who sighed and informed him, “He says your grandmother committed too many sins in life, causing her soul and spirit to become as fragile as her body. Her soul decayed upon death. This small town also differs from the outside world, possessing an innate resistance against ghosts and other yin-elemental beings. Because of all these reasons, he was unable to locate your grandmother’s remnant soul.”

Ma Kuxuan’s face contorted in fury, and he looked up at the deity, roaring, “I don’t care what methods you use! Hurry up and find my grandmother’s soul for me!”

The martial artist’s expression changed drastically.

He feared Ma Kuxuan would offend the True God surnamed Yin, and was about to intervene. But for some unknown reason, the deity in golden armor surprisingly spoke in the official dialect of the Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, “It’s not that I don’t want to; I simply cannot.”

Having said this, the magnificent deity, shrouded in golden light, turned to look at the swordsman from True Martial Mountain. The swordsman took a deep breath, feigning an act of offering incense and bowing three times to the deity. With each bow, a wisp of faint golden aura, thick as a thread, emanated from his Mud Pellet acupoint, inhaled by the deity in golden armor.

After completing this ritual, the deity leaped into a dazzling column of light, disappearing into the distance.

The swordsman’s face was deathly pale, and he immediately pulled over a chair and sat down, slowly exhaling.

This was the true meaning behind the common saying, “Inviting a god is easy, but farewelling a god is hard”.

Ma Kuxuan wore a cold expression as he turned and walked inside the house, sitting beside his grandmother’s ice-cold corpse. He reached out and grasped her dry, shriveled hand, staring intently at her face, remaining silent for a long time.

The swordsman removed the tiger talisman from his waist, its luster noticeably dimmer than before. He slowly placed the talisman in his sleeve.

After a moment, he stood up. Instead of approaching Ma Kuxuan, he sat on the doorstep, his back to the young boy. “Your grandmother was likely standing at the door when struck. The blow was immense, causing her to fly into the house and crash, resulting in her death.

“You may not want to hear this, but you deserve to know the truth. The assailant was likely a cultivator, who undoubtedly mishandled their power. Moreover, your grandmother was already frail, and the combination of these factors led to her passing.

“Given the assailant was a cultivator, the prime suspects are Chen Ping’an and that young girl from outside, or the young girl whose cultivation you disturbed on the covered bridge. Perhaps she attacked your grandmother in retaliation. The probability of the assailant being Chen Ping’an and the girl from outside is extremely low, while the probability of it being the girl from the covered bridge is extremely high.

“You went to the unmarked burial ground to kill Chen Ping’an, seeking justice for your grandmother, hoping to sever her negative karma with Chen Ping’an. However, you surely couldn’t have foreseen your trip coinciding with someone seeking revenge at your home.”

Ma Kuxuan shakily reached out, gently stroking his grandmother’s cheek with the back of his hand. Her cheek was severely swollen, already bruised.

“So… I was the cause of my grandmother’s death… Is that what you’re saying?” Ma Kuxuan asked softly.

The swordsman replied, “By societal standards, yes and no. By the standards of…”

Ma Kuxuan immediately cut him off, unwilling to hear further reasoning. He stood up, eyes blazing, and spat, “I’m not allowed to destroy nations or massacre cities, nor to wantonly kill innocent people. I’m not allowed to do this, or that… So tell me, am I allowed to seek revenge and kill my enemy?!”

Before the swordsman could reply, Ma Kuxuan continued, “If I’m not allowed to do even this, then what’s the point of becoming a Militarian cultivator? Why not act as I please and become a wanton demon instead? Why didn’t I accept that Daoist nun’s offer and join her sect?!”

The swordsman hesitated, then replied, “You can do as you please, as long as you can bear the consequences.

“Just like today…

“Also, there are some things I perhaps didn’t explain clearly before. For example, killing. There are different limits for different people; the number you can kill differs from mine. This isn’t solely due to my greater strength and cultivation. Temperament and mindset are also crucial. Perhaps I kill 100 people, all deserving of death. You might only kill two or three, but one of them might be innocent, undeserving of death.”

Ma Kuxuan suddenly chuckled and sneered, “Why would I ask you about killing or how to kill? Do you think I’ll ever need your help?! I almost forgot… I’m still not an official disciple of True Martial Mountain!”

He glanced down at his grandmother, then turned to face the square table in the main hall. “Hurry up and lead the way!” he bellowed furiously.

A black cat darted out from under the table, and Ma Kuxuan sprinted after it, leaving the house.

The swordsman paid him no mind.

One must understand that the nation he originally came from descended into chaos 150 years ago. Mountains crumbled, rivers severed. A century of chaotic battle brought unparalleled tragedy and misery to the entire Eastern Treasured Vial Continent. When a new dynasty finally ended the chaos, fewer than 800,000 of the original 10 million households remained. This led many young people to believe that the corpses of the dead didn’t need to be collected and buried.

The swordsman was one of these children.

He slowly stood up. More than telling Ma Kuxuan the assailant had been expelled from the town, he was more interested in visiting Master Ruan and asking him a question.

He wanted to know why the circulation of karmic fate was so evident here, despite Buddhism being relatively weak in the Eastern Treasured Vial Continent for a thousand years. Not only that, but the Buddhists were the weakest force in this small town.

The Militarian swordsman followed Ma Kuxuan from a distance.

Even if Ma Kuxuan were an official disciple of True Martial Mountain at this moment, the swordsman wouldn’t interfere too much with his personal affairs and grudges.

On the battlefield, people stick together through thick and thin. In cultivation, however, each person must take responsibility for their life and death.

Of course, nothing is absolute. For example, the swordsman intervened to save Ma Kuxuan when he was nearly killed by Chen Ping’an. There were two reasons. First, the swordsman hoped a prodigy like Ma Kuxuan wouldn’t die young. He wanted Ma Kuxuan to hone his talent and temperament at True Martial Mountain, reaching greater heights. At the same time, he wanted Ma Kuxuan to become a representative of the School of Military Thought, displaying his power and brilliance in the coming age of turmoil.

Second, Mr. Qi had personally stated that Ma Kuxuan and Chen Ping’an should only determine a victor, not kill each other.

At the time, the swordsman thought Mr. Qi was worried about Chen Ping’an being killed. Only later did he realize this wasn’t the case.

Maintaining a distance, the swordsman noticed Ma Kuxuan’s pace gradually slowing, his initial fury subsiding. He looked like an ordinary youth strolling the streets. However, this changed when a black cat leaped from a rooftop onto his shoulder, then darted away. It was as if the black cat was guiding Ma Kuxuan to his target. Ma Kuxuan began a slow jog, his aura shifting once again.

The spring rain was light, merely hastening the steps of those on the streets, but not compelling them to seek shelter.

A young man and woman in extravagant clothes were walking towards the main street from Dragon Riding Alley. Their faces were filled with joy, as if they had found some fated opportunity. However, a youth was about to show them the meaning of disaster and fortune often intertwining.

Ma Kuxuan broke into a sprint 50 paces from the couple, calling out to them at 20 paces. When the man turned, Ma Kuxuan unleashed a ruthless, unreserved punch to the head.

The young man was sent flying, crashing to the ground. He convulsed slightly, showing no sign of rising.

Ma Kuxuan landed lightly, standing beside the young woman.

With a swift movement, he struck at the woman’s neck with his left arm. With a thud, the young cultivator, taller than him, collapsed.

The woman’s head smashed into the muddy ground.

Ma Kuxuan stomped on her forehead. He bent down, gazing at her dazed face, and said in the official dialect, “I know the assailant isn’t in this small town anymore. But that doesn’t matter. I’ll investigate myself.”

The beautiful young woman’s eyes were bloodshot, blood dripping from her nose and ears. Shock and terror were etched on her face as she looked up at the tanned young boy.

Ma Kuxuan’s face hardened. “I, Ma Kuxuan, disrupted your cultivation, so you have every right to seek revenge. Even if you kill me, I’ll accept my fate and not blame you. In fact, even if you don’t kill me, I might forgive you if I’m in a good mood and play with you some more. This is how carefree the world should be.”

The young woman, likely a prodigy in her sect, had never faced such a situation. She sobbed in terror, unlikely to remember Ma Kuxuan’s words. She pleaded, “Let me go… Please, let me go… My grandmother wasn’t killed by me, and I knew nothing of this…”

Ma Kuxuan pressed his foot down, the woman’s head sinking further into the mud. “What do I hate most about you? Your dismissal after committing a sin! No guilt, no remorse…”

His voice was laced with sorrow, his eyes filled with intense hatred.

The young woman struggled to reach out, grasping Ma Kuxuan’s ankle, begging, “Please let me go… My grandfather is the commander of the Sea Tide Cavalry, and I am his beloved granddaughter. I can compensate you… I can give you anything…”

Pity and supplication filled her eyes.

Ma Kuxuan wore a false smile. “Oh? What a coincidence! I am the grandson of Ma Lanhua, my grandmother!”

He raised his foot slightly, then lowered it, rubbing it on the young woman’s delicate face. “Sea Tide Cavalry, huh? Just wait, I’ll definitely play with you in the future.”

Ma Kuxuan removed his foot and looked around. The swordsman from True Martial Mountain stood by, sword at his back. To his right, an elegant young man, holding an oil-paper umbrella, stood beside the collapsed young man, observing Ma Kuxuan.

Ma Kuxuan’s instinct told him the young man with the umbrella was waiting for him to kill the young woman.

Ma Kuxuan squatted down. The young woman tried to escape, but the soaked young boy held her down. Only when she stopped moving did he release her. He lightly slapped her face repeatedly, smiling, “Remember this, okay? My name is Ma Kuxuan, and I’ll definitely look for you again in the future. And also that person who isn’t in the small town anymore. You definitely have to thank him well. Otherwise, our relationship wouldn’t have been so great.”

Finally, Ma Kuxuan spat on the young woman’s face.

He stood up and approached the swordsman from True Martial Mountain, asking in a low voice, “Who is that person?”

“The future mountain master of Lake View Academy, one of the seventy-two academies of Confucianism,” the swordsman replied calmly. “He is called Cui Minghuang, a prominent figure. He has come to retrieve a subjugation treasure, and is extremely shrewd and calculating. You must be wary of him. If I’m correct, he has already set his sights on you.”

Ma Kuxuan frowned, observing, “The feeling he gives off is very different from Mr. Qi’s.”

The swordsman chuckled. “How many scholars do you think can be like Mr. Qi, adhering to their true selves?”

He hesitated, then explained, “Rumors spread throughout the outside world that Mr. Qi’s cultivation has declined, his mental state shattered after his master’s reputation was tarnished. He agreed to be banished to this small world. Though he endures constant erosion from the power of heaven and earth, he still acts wantonly and as he pleases. However, this isn’t necessarily the case.”

Ma Kuxuan wasn’t interested in these matters, and he turned to look at the elegant young man. Still holding the oil-paper umbrella, he was squatting beside the young woman, likely speaking comforting words.

Ma Kuxuan turned away and walked alongside the swordsman, his footsteps heavy as he returned to Apricot Blossom Alley.

“Your injuries are significant. Be careful not to leave any hidden problems, or they will affect your future cultivation,” the swordsman warned.

As Ma Kuxuan wiped rainwater from his face, he suddenly asked, “What is our small town like in the eyes of outsiders?”

“It’s like the creek outside the town, filled with all kinds of small and large fish,” the swordsman replied. “There’s shallow water, but also deep, bottomless pools.”

“Have any outsiders drowned while seeking treasures here?” Ma Kuxuan asked.

The swordsman smiled, shaking his head. “In the past, almost never. Most found treasures peacefully, leaving everyone satisfied. However, this time is different.”

————

In the Yang family pharmacy, a spirited young girl, carrying a young boy on her back, briskly entered. She addressed a middle-aged shop assistant, “Is Mr. Yang here?”

Sensing her extraordinary aura, the assistant dared not offend her, replying, “Yes, he just finished sorting medicine in the backyard. Are you looking for him?”

“We are acquainted with Old Man Yang and wish to obtain some medicine,” Ning Yao stated solemnly.

The assistant hesitated, then led them to the building in the backyard. An old man was lightly tapping a table with his smoking pipe, and a disheveled man stood in a corner—Zheng Dafeng, the eastern gatekeeper. Perhaps everyone has their vanquisher; Zheng Dafeng dared not breathe too heavily in Old Man Yang’s presence. He no longer seemed a pushover.

Old Man Yang waved his pipe, and Zheng Dafeng, along with other shop assistants, hurried out.

Old Man Yang looked at the familiar figure on Ning Yao’s back.

Chen Ping’an’s lips were white, his body trembling. His arms were tightly wrapped around Ning Yao’s neck, as if his life depended on it.

Old Man Yang calmly stood, one hand behind his back, one holding his pipe, approaching Ning Yao. He looked Chen Ping’an in the eyes, his voice hoarse, “How many times have I told you? The shorter your life, the less your fortune, the more you must cherish it. So what do you do? Every setback pushes you to the brink. Since you enjoy this, why didn’t you follow your mother then? Wouldn’t that save you the trouble?

“Old Man Yang was right. He always said a person’s fate is evident at three years old. And you were one not destined for a long life. Therefore, teaching you the best skills and profound arts would be wasted. You’ll be six feet under soon, anyway.”

Ning Yao was shocked. She imagined Old Man Yang as a kind, amiable old man.

Who knew he could be so bitter and harsh?

“It hurts a lot?” the old man sneered.

Chen Ping’an nodded softly. He could no longer speak.

When he awoke on Ning Yao’s back, he felt pain, likely from the medicine’s effects wearing off. However, he felt he could endure it for a while. But when they reached the covered bridge, he knew he couldn’t endure much longer. Ning Yao hadn’t even had time to retrieve her saber by the creek before carrying him to the Yang family pharmacy.

The old man chuckled, “It hurts, huh? Then endure it.”

He glanced at Ning Yao, snapping, “Let him sit on the bench by himself!”

“Being carried by a young girl… Isn’t this embarrassing?” the old man muttered.

Ning Yao, suppressing her anger, carefully placed Chen Ping’an on the bench. He swayed, about to collapse.

Ning Yao was about to help him, but Chen Ping’an, though unable to speak, signaled with his eyes that he didn’t need assistance.

The old man took a puff from his pipe, observing Chen Ping’an’s body and aura. He clicked his tongue, “You truly live up to your name as a poor boy. But yes, you did keep your conscience clear, huh?”

The old man was completely unmoved by Chen Ping’an’s pain, scolding, “What kind of fortunate fate does Liu Xianyang have? And what kind of destitute fate do you have? After so many years, don’t you understand this? His death is almost enough misfortune for you to die ten times over! Do you understand?”

Ning Yao, unable to