Master was dead-drunk. In the end, Tong Zhihuan carried him step by step back up the mountain. He brewed a sobering soup and gave it to the master to drink. Only then did the master feel a bit better. At least his breathing calmed down. By the time Tong Zhihuan finished taking care of the master, it was almost the hour of Yin. After the rain, the mountain was so cold it made people shiver. Tong Zhihuan rubbed his shoulders, sneezed, and then decided to go back to his room to sleep. Miss Tao’er came out the door. Tong Zhihuan turned back to look at her. Miss Tao’er handed him a peach and said, “Eat this before sleeping. It’ll warm you up.” Tong Zhihuan stared at the peach in his hand and was stunned for a moment. When he finally snapped out of it, he lifted his head to look at Miss Tao’er. Without thinking, he chuckled foolishly. “Thank you, Miss Tao’er.” Miss Tao’er rolled her eyes at him and turned away, saying, “What are you imagining? I just don’t want you catching a cold. I don’t want to have to look after you in the morning, too.” Tong Zhihuan took a bite of the peach and then repeated, “Thank you.” Miss Tao’er spoke softly. She stood in the doorway, watching as Tong Zhihuan headed to the Side Room. She saw how he walked as if with the wind and couldn’t help but chuckle behind her hand. Only after Tong Zhihuan entered his room did Miss Tao’er go back inside to care for the master. Come to think of it, this was the first time she had ever seen the master so drunk, entirely unconscious. Miss Tao’er sighed lightly and murmured, “I suppose Master encountered some troublesome matter…” The night passed without another word. After the Black Flood Dragon departed, the rain that had lasted days finally stopped. The mountains felt a bit colder and crisper. As dawn approached, thin wisps of mist began to fade in and out. Opening the door, you could see mist shrouding the forest all over the mountains. Dew dripped from the leaves. Everything continued as it always did. But the people on the mountain changed time and again. The sights at its foot also shifted day by day. Over a hundred years, this mountain had grown beyond its old ruggedness to its present form. It seemed as if all things were heading toward the light. But it also felt as if they all crept toward darkness. Chen Changsheng awoke from his hazy dream. He felt a slight headache coming on. Rubbing the spot between his eyebrows, he slowly sat up in bed. Sensing quietly around him… Miss Tao’er was preparing breakfast at the stove in the temple. Smoke rose from the mountain, mingling with the thin mist. Tong Zhihuan had risen early to sweep the Taoist Temple. Last night’s rain had blown many leaves into the temple, leaving a huge mess. Chen Changsheng wiped his face with a hand and shook his head regretfully. “How could I have drunk so much? You could say I was absolutely plastered…” At least he hadn’t been babbling nonsense. He got up and put on his shoes, but seeing they were covered in muddy filth, he didn’t feel like washing them. Instead, he casually performed Daoist Arts to cleanse the grime away. The sound of a door opening echoed. Tong Zhihuan, who was sweeping the temple, turned his head and asked, “You’re awake, Master?” Chen Changsheng nodded. “I gave you trouble last night.” Tong Zhihuan shook his head. “No trouble. I’m just glad you’re fine.” After that, the three of them ate breakfast together in the temple. Simple fare: a bowl of plain porridge with some wild vegetables. The slightly bitter taste helped clear the drowsiness from waking early. Chen Changsheng looked toward Tao’er and asked, “Quite good. This temple has been empty so long. Who taught you to cook?” Miss Tao’er replied, “I saw Zi Su cook before. Got curious, so I learned a bit.” Chen Changsheng couldn’t help but ponder. Such innate powers of a Wood Spirit, yet used for sweeping and cooking… didn’t it seem terribly wasted? “Does it suit your taste, Master?” Miss Tao’er blinked. Chen Changsheng replied, “Why wouldn’t it?” Hearing this, Miss Tao’er smiled and said, “Good, then.” Chen Changsheng snapped out of his thoughts, then recalled his conversation with the Old Dragon King over drinks last night. Heavy with wine, he had asked once more about the matters of the past. The Old Dragon King had said he only knew a fragment— that couldn’t be a lie. But just how small was that fragment? During their drinking, the Old Dragon King hadn’t answered outright. Instead, he’d told him— “The solution is on the journey.” “The solution is on the journey…” Chen Changsheng turned this phrase over in his mind. Tong Zhihuan noticed the master deep in thought, not touching his porridge or vegetables. He didn’t dare ask outright, glancing instead at Tao’er beside him. Tao’er blinked back at him and didn’t ask either. It was only moments later, with Master slowly returning to the conversation, that he finally spoke. “Tomorrow I’m afraid I’ll have to take a journey far away.” Tong Zhihuan paused at this. “Will you be back at the temple tomorrow evening, Master?” Chen Changsheng said, “I likely won’t return for quite some time.” Tong Zhihuan finally grasped it. It seemed the master’s journey would be long this time… Miss Tao’er was also startled, looking toward the master. She would have liked to accompany him, but at her current stage, straying too far from the Peach Tree would make maintaining her current form quite difficult. Tong Zhihuan said, “Can I travel with you, Master?” Chen Changsheng turned to him and shook his head. “You have your own path. Sticking by me will bring you no gain.” Hearing this, Tong Zhihuan understood. Of course, it made sense. Master was an immortal. He, a mere mortal—how could he keep pace? He’d only end up dragging the master down. Chen Changsheng then looked back at Tao’er. “While I’m away, Tao’er, keep an eye on the temple, will you? Can’t have any wandering ghosts barging in to disturb its peace.” Tao’er nodded. “Rest assured, Master.” Chen Changsheng nodded. “Eat your porridge.” Tong Zhihuan cleared away the dishes while Master went back to his room to retrieve a broken sword. This broken sword was the one Zhao Yuqing had left beneath the West Bridge. When the Black Flood Dragon forced its way past the barrier, it had shattered into two. Chen Changsheng held the sword and examined it for some time. Though broken, it had lost none of its sharpness. After all, it was once an Immortal Sword. Had Zhao Yuqing not restrained himself that night, had the Black Flood Dragon been sacrificed into the sword’s core… this blade would have surely become a legendary Immortal Sword. “But it’s still an Immortal Sword. It’d be a pity to just toss it.” Chen Changsheng thought for a moment, then reached up and plucked out several strands of his hair. He fitted the broken halves of the sword together and laid the strands across the fractured edge. “Let the strands mend the gulf, repair and restore!” A flash of Golden Light fell onto the sword. The strands shimmered with golden brilliance, gradually fusing into the broken seam. The crack glowed with that Golden Light, and as the brilliance slowly faded… 😨😨😨Golden Novel translates the best Chinese web novels for you!😨😨😨 The break smoothed away, returning to its original shape. The only problem was that this sword had lost its innate spirit, which vanished when it broke. Still, the sword could still ward off evil and repel demons. Chen Changsheng lifted the sword for a look. On the hilt, he saw faint markings. Only two characters: Yuqing. Seeing this sword’s name, Chen Changsheng remembered Zhao Yuqing again. His mind paused only briefly, then dismissed it. Those who walked different Paths need not forge pacts. He thought no more of it. He stood and walked out into the main hall of the temple. Placing the Yuqing Sword into the hands of the Statue of True Martiality. The gaze of the Statue of True Martiality was solemn, radiating awe. Just as it had always stood before, tall and unyielding. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖~𝙣𝙚𝙩