Chapter 79: The Returning Home on a Snowy Night

Time flew by, and several decades passed in a hurry.

Jiang Ziyou received his first sword in life, gifted to him by Wen Shili.

It was called “Feiying Liuyun,” and he liked it very much.

He discarded the small branches he had used for practicing swordplay for many years and held the exquisitely crafted sword, smiling like a fool.

On this day, the snow was particularly heavy.

“Master!”

Wen Shili walked to the mountain gate, and Jiang Ziyou caught up from behind.

“Master, where are you going?”

Wen Shili replied calmly, “The demon clan is invading, and their momentum is fierce; it seems they have long been plotting this. The four great immortal sects have repeatedly asked me to come out of the mountains…”

Jiang Ziyou was taken aback and quickly interrupted him, “Is it very dangerous this time?”

In a moment, neither of them spoke again.

When a bird flew over the mountain and called out for the third time, Wen Shili looked at him and said, “You stay on the mountain.”

“Master, I want to go with you.”

“Not possible.”

Jiang Ziyou anxiously said, “Master, you’ve always taken me with you when you went down the mountain to eliminate demons these past few years.”

“This time is different.”

After saying this, Wen Shili gave Jiang Ziyou a meaningful glance before turning to leave.

“Master, don’t go!”

“…”

“Master, don’t leave me alone on the mountain!”

“…”

“Master!!!”

Jiang Ziyou wanted to run after him, but how could he catch up?

With a thud, he fell into the snow, scraping his knees and palms.

Blood mixed with snow water looked quite alarming.

When he looked up again, Wen Shili’s figure had already vanished from the mountain path.

Only the echoes in the mountains continued to call out, “Master! Master!” incessantly.

Jiang Ziyou lay in the snow for quite a while before finally standing up and slowly walking back up the mountain.

He found it strange that he felt so sad yet couldn’t cry; all he could do was howl.

What Jiang Ziyou didn’t know was that Wen Shili had stood in a place where he couldn’t be seen for a long time, watching him crawl out of the snow before finally leaving with a flick of his sleeve.

…

Jiang Ziyou no longer practiced his sword daily; instead, he stood at the mountain gate gazing into the distance.

Like a stone waiting for his master’s return.

Snow began to fall again on the mountain.

He wrapped himself in his coat and hugged his knees while sitting on the stone steps, watching the snowflakes fall like pear blossoms all over the mountain.

Wen Shili’s departure lasted several months.

Occasionally, people came from below to chop wood.

As they chopped trees, they chatted idly.

“Hey, did you hear? In this immortal-demon war, there’s a cultivator named Wen Shili who’s been killing left and right. It seems we humans have hope in this battle.”

“Right! I also heard that he has already reached the Mahayana stage; now everyone calls him True Monarch Qinghe.”

“So impressive? I wonder what Dao he practices?”

“The Dao of Ruthless.”

“No wonder…”

Another day passed.

Jiang Ziyou sat at the mountain gate from sunrise to sunset and finally waited for someone to return amidst the wind and snow.

He saw Wen Shili covered in blood and with red eyes slowly trudging up the mountain path step by step.

“Master!”

Jiang Ziyou rushed over to support him but felt his pupils suddenly constrict.

He saw Wen Shili cough up blood several times before collapsing directly into the snow.

Jiang Ziyou reached out to check; Wen Shili’s spiritual form was already shattered beyond recognition.

For cultivators, when their spiritual form shatters, their lifespan is also at its end.

“Master! Wake up! Don’t scare your disciple!”

…

In the days that followed, Wen Shili remained unconscious.

Jiang Ziyou was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

However, apart from washing Wen Shili’s body daily and feeding him medicine while talking beside his bed, there was nothing else he could do.

“Master, please wake up soon. I can’t… sleep well alone…”

“Master, don’t leave me…”

“Master, talk to me… Master…”

“Master… I feel so sad; it’s strange that I can’t cry…”

As Wen Shili’s spiritual form grew increasingly fragmented, Jiang Ziyou fell into despair.

His usually clear voice became slightly hoarse: “Master, you once said that the saddest thing in life is not being able to leave behind your name when you die. So I want to carve a detailed monument for you so that anyone who sees it will know that there was once a True Monarch Qinghe like you in this world.”

He murmured to himself: “Right! I need to write down Master’s life story. I must go to the stone carving shop down the mountain… stone carving shop…”

After squatting beside the bed for too long and standing up too quickly, he felt dizzy and fell back down for a while before getting back up.

He walked two steps slowly to loosen his muscles and bones; then he walked faster until he finally ran down the mountain to find the nearest stone carving shop.

Surrounded by several circles of fences stood a mud house with thatched roofing.

The courtyard was piled high with stone slabs stacked more than ten layers high.

Jiang Ziyou shouted: “Is anyone there?”

“A customer?”

A somewhat harsh male voice came from inside.

Then a craftsman quickly walked out: “Yes! Yes!”

“Boss, I want to carve a monument.”

The craftsman smiled broadly: “Sure! Do you have any requirements?”

“I do.”

Jiang Ziyou took out a small booklet from his pocket and handed it over: “Please carve these onto the monument.”

This booklet contained everything he had painstakingly written down about Wen Shili’s good deeds over these years and even earlier ones that benefited humanity.

The craftsman took it and opened it for a glance before being dumbfounded: “This is way too much! Which immortal has so many merits?!”

“It’s my master.”

The craftsman stroked his beard thoughtfully: “Everyone must die eventually; after death there’s only a grave and a tombstone left. Is it really necessary?”

“My master is different; he is not an ordinary person; he is an immortal.”

Jiang Ziyou continued: “On the day when the monument is finished, please help me place this statue next to it.”

The stone statue was taken from Master’s room; it was carved in his likeness.

After Master’s death, he couldn’t be by Master’s side all the time; Master would feel lonely there by himself.

“…Alright then. However, this project is quite large; it will take at least five days. As for price… it’ll be eight hundred spirit stones.”

Jiang Ziyou hesitated: “But I don’t have that many spirit stones…”

The craftsman’s expression changed instantly: “No spirit stones? You come here wanting to carve something without spirit stones? And with so many requests? Get lost!”

“My master was injured while protecting humanity…”

The craftsman shoved him away and threw that booklet back at him: “No spirit stones? Even if the King of Heaven comes here, I won’t carve anything! Get lost!”

“Wait! It’s not that I don’t have them; it’s just that I don’t have that many…” Jiang Ziyou took off his Feiying Liuyun sword from his waist. After hesitating repeatedly, he gritted his teeth and said: “This sword is good; can I use it as collateral?”

The craftsman’s eyes lit up as he examined the sword thoroughly: “Tsk! This is indeed a fine sword.”

He asked: “You’re not planning on selling this sword outright?”

Jiang Ziyou looked reluctantly at his sword as he replied: “…It’s all I have left.”

“Alright then.”

The craftsman took the sword and said: “I’ll deliver it to you in five days. Where are you staying?”

“Atop Wuchang Mountain.”

Upon hearing this, the craftsman trembled slightly: “…”.