Chapter 59: Sleep
The ancestral home of the Ma family in Apricot Alley. The golden-armored divine being who had wandered through the small town walked back into the courtyard. Strangely, such a massive true deity, moving about all around, went completely unnoticed by anyone.
The boy Ma Kuxuan crouched on the stone steps outside the door. Seeing this golden-armored divine being, his face was full of hope. The military strategist cultivator from True Martial Mountain asked, "How is it?"
The divine being was clad in golden armor, with a solemn and dignified expression. His lips moved slightly, but Ma Kuxuan could not hear any sound, so he anxiously turned to look at the sword cultivator inside the house. The latter sighed and said, "He says that before your grandmother died, she had accumulated too much karma. In the final moments before her death, her three souls and seven spirits were already as frail as her body, like a candle guttering in the wind. So after your grandmother passed away, her life soul decayed at the same time. Moreover, this small town is different from other places; it naturally repels ghosts and dark things. Therefore, he did not find any residual soul of your grandmother."
Ma Kuxuan's face twisted in rage. He raised his head and roared at the divine general, "I don't care what method you use, go and bring my grandmother's soul back right now!"
The True Martial Mountain sword cultivator's expression changed drastically, afraid that Ma Kuxuan would offend this true deity surnamed Yin. Just as he was about to step forward to stop the boy, the golden-armored divine being, for some unknown reason, spoke in the orthodox official language of the Eastern Treasure Vase Continent, "It is not that I am unwilling, but truly unable."
After saying this, the majestic divine general, enveloped in golden light, looked at the True Martial Mountain sword cultivator inside the house. The latter took a deep breath, cupped his hands as if holding incense, and bowed three times to the divine general in the courtyard. With each bow, a wisp of pale golden energy, as thin as a strand of hair, drifted out from the Mud Ball Acupoint of the True Martial Mountain sword cultivator and was gently inhaled by the golden-armored divine being.
After the third bow, the divine being rose straight into the air, transforming into a brilliant pillar of light that departed this realm.
The True Martial Mountain sword cultivator's face turned pale. He moved a chair and sat down, exhaling a mouthful of turbid air.
This was the real reason behind the common saying, "It's easy to invite a god, but hard to send one off."
Ma Kuxuan's face was cold as he withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked into the house. He sat beside the cold corpse, reached out to grasp the old woman's withered hand, and stared intently at her face. The boy remained silent for a long time.
The sword-bearing man took off the tiger tally hanging from his waist. Its color was already somewhat dimmer than before. He slowly put it into his sleeve.
After resting for a moment, the sword-bearing man stood up. Instead of walking over to the boy, he sat on the threshold, with his back to the boy, and said slowly, "Your grandmother was probably slapped at the door. The force was immense; she was sent flying into the house and died. There are some things I need to tell you now that you might not want to hear, but you should at least know the truth. The person who struck her was most likely a Qi Practitioner, who didn't know how to control his strength. Combined with your grandmother's frail constitution, she died. Since it was a Qi Practitioner who acted, it is most likely related to that Chen Ping'an from Mud Vase Alley and the outland girl, or perhaps it was the young woman whose Water Reflection Mind you deliberately disrupted earlier by the Corridor Bridge, seeking revenge. The former possibility is very small, the latter is very likely. So, when you went to the mass grave to kill Chen Ping'an, you were being filial to your grandmother and resolving karmic ties. But you never imagined that as soon as you left the house, someone would come to your home to cause trouble."
Ma Kuxuan trembled slightly as he reached out a hand and gently touched his grandmother's cheek with the back of his hand. It was severely swollen, already turning a dark blue.
The boy said softly, "So I am the one who killed my grandmother, right?"
The sword-bearing man replied, "In the eyes of the common world, yes and no. If we go by..."
Ma Kuxuan did not want to hear any more from this man. He stood up and said with a sneer, "I can't slaughter cities or destroy nations. I can't indiscriminately kill the innocent. I can't do this, I can't do that! So tell me, when it comes to taking revenge and killing, can I do it or not?!"
Without waiting for the man's answer, Ma Kuxuan continued, "If even this can't be done, then what's the point of me being a military strategist cultivator? Why don't I just become a whimsical great demon? Why didn't I agree back then when that Daoist priest and priestess invited me to join their sect?!"
The man hesitated for a moment, then said, "As long as you can bear all the consequences, it's fine."
"Just like what happened today."
"Also, there are some things I might not have made clear before. For example, when it comes to killing, everyone has their own line. The number of people I can kill and the number you can kill are absolutely not the same. This isn't just because I am stronger and at a higher cultivation level than you; a person's nature is also very important. Maybe I have killed a hundred people, all of whom deserved to die, while you have only killed two or three, which might include someone who didn't deserve to die."
Ma Kuxuan suddenly let out a scornful laugh. "Killing or not killing, how to kill, why should I ask you? Do you think I need your help?! I almost forgot, I'm not even an official disciple of True Martial Mountain yet!"
The boy looked down at the old woman's face, then turned his head and roared at the eight-immortals table in the main hall, "Get lost and lead the way!"
A black cat darted out from under the eight-immortals table. Ma Kuxuan followed it as it dashed out of the house.
The man was not bothered by this.
One must understand that the country this man came from had fallen into chaos a hundred and fifty years ago. The land was torn apart, a century of war, a level of tragedy that was unrivaled in the Eastern Treasure Vase Continent. In the end, out of ten million households, by the time the new dynasty ended that catastrophe, fewer than eight hundred thousand households remained. Thus, many young children thought that after death, no one needed to be encoffined or buried.
This man was one of those children.
The man slowly stood up. Rather than reminding Ma Kuxuan that the murderer had already been driven out of the small town, he preferred to go and ask Master Ruan a question.
Why was Buddhism in the Eastern Treasure Vase Continent so weak for a thousand years? Only a few small countries enshrined Buddhist monks as national preceptors. In this small town, it was also the weakest faction. Yet the cycle of karma was so obvious.
This military strategist sword cultivator followed far behind the boy.
Even though Ma Kuxuan was now a disciple of True Martial Mountain, the man would not interfere too much with the boy's personal vendetta.
On the battlefield, you live and die together; on the path of cultivation, you live and die on your own.
Of course, there were exceptions. Just like when Ma Kuxuan almost died at Chen Ping'an's hands earlier, the man had stepped in to save Ma Kuxuan. There were two reasons: first, deep down, he didn't want a genius like Ma Kuxuan to die prematurely. He hoped that Ma Kuxuan could be tempered at True Martial Mountain, that both his talent and temperament could reach a higher level. He wanted the boy to become one of the representative figures of the military strategist school, to shine brilliantly in the coming era of great strife. Second, Master Qi had personally spoken up, saying that it was enough for Ma Kuxuan and Chen Ping'an to determine who was superior; they must not fight to the death.
At that time, he thought Master Qi was worried that the boy from Mud Vase Alley would be killed. Only afterward did he realize that was not the case at all.
The man followed far behind the boy and noticed that after the initial surge of heat, Ma Kuxuan's pace was getting slower and slower, more and more relaxed, until he was walking like an ordinary boy strolling around. But when the black cat jumped from a rooftop onto the boy's shoulder, then to the ground, turned around, and dashed away, as if telling the boy it had found the target, the boy began to jog, and his demeanor changed once again.
The spring rain was fine, just enough to make pedestrians on the street hurry their steps, but not enough to make them seek shelter under eaves.
A young man and woman in luxurious clothes were walking from Dragon Riding Alley toward the main street. They both seemed to have encountered good fortune, their faces full of joy. But a boy taught them what it meant for good and bad fortune to be interdependent. The boy started running from about fifty paces behind them. At twenty paces, he called out a loud "Hey." The moment the young man turned to look, Ma Kuxuan delivered a swift and powerful punch.
A straight punch to the head.
The young man was sent flying. After crashing heavily onto the street, his body twitched slightly, with no signs of struggling to get up.
After that punch, the boy landed on his feet, now standing shoulder to shoulder with the young woman.
Ma Kuxuan twisted his body and swung his left hand like lightning towards the woman's neck. The female cultivator, who was half a head taller than him, crashed to the ground with a bang from the impact of his arm.
The woman's head slammed into the muddy ground.
Ma Kuxuan extended one foot and stepped on the woman's forehead, staring down at her dazed face. He bent down and spoke in elegant official language, "I know the murderer is no longer in the small town. But that doesn't matter. I can investigate on my own."
The beautiful young woman's eyes were bloodshot, with blood seeping from her nose and ears. Her face was full of terror as she looked up at the dark-skinned boy who was looking down at her.
The boy's face twisted with rage. "I, Ma Kuxuan, ruined your cultivation mindset. If you were to take revenge, even if you chopped me into pieces with a thousand cuts, I would accept my fate and not hold a grudge. Even if you failed in your revenge, if I were in a good mood, I might let you go and be willing to play a few more rounds with you. In my opinion, the world should be this clear and uncluttered."
The woman was probably the pride of her sect, never having seen such a scene. She was so frightened that tears streamed down her face. She probably couldn't even remember what the ferocious boy said, just kept begging, "Let me go, please let me go. Your grandmother wasn't killed by me. I know nothing about it..."
The boy gradually increased the pressure from the sole of his foot, slowly pressing her head sideways into the mud. "Do you know what I hate most about people like you? It's that after doing evil, you can still treat it so lightly! Without a shred of guilt, not a shred..."
The boy's voice was choked with tears, his eyes filled with bone-deep hatred.
The woman struggled to reach out her hand and grab Ma Kuxuan's ankle, her eyes full of pitiful pleading, "Let me go. My grandfather is the commander of the Sea Tide Cavalry. I am his most beloved granddaughter. I can compensate you. Whatever you want, I can agree to..."
The boy gave a mirthless smile. "Oh? What a coincidence. I am the grandson of my grandmother, Ma Lan!"
The boy suddenly lifted his foot a little and then rubbed the sole of his shoe on the woman's delicate cheek. "Sea Tide Cavalry, huh? Just wait. I'll play slowly with you."
The boy put his foot down and looked in two directions. On his left, the True Martial Mountain man stood in the distance, a sword on his back. On his right, an elegant young man holding an oil-paper umbrella stood beside the fallen wretch, looking at Ma Kuxuan.
Ma Kuxuan's intuition told him that the umbrella-holding bastard was actually waiting for him to kill the woman at his feet.
Ma Kuxuan suddenly crouched down. The woman tried to escape, but the drenched boy grabbed her neck firmly. When the woman dared not move anymore, the boy let go and slapped her cheek lightly with his palm, laughing, "Remember, my name is Ma Kuxuan. I will definitely come looking for you in the future. Oh, and that person who is no longer in this town, you must thank him thoroughly. Otherwise, our relationship wouldn't be so good."
Finally, Ma Kuxuan spat on the woman's face.
The boy stood up and walked towards the True Martial Mountain man, asking in a low voice, "Who is that guy?"
The sword cultivator said calmly, "He is the future mountain master of one of the seventy-two Confucian academies, Guanhu Academy. His name is Cui Minghuang. He comes from an influential family. He also came to retrieve the Suppression Object. He is very deep. You should be careful. If nothing unexpected happens, you've already been targeted by him."
Ma Kuxuan frowned. "This person... the feeling he gives is very different from Master Qi of the school."
The sword cultivator laughed bitterly. "Do you think just any scholar can stick to his true heart like Master Qi?"
He hesitated for a moment, but still explained, "The outside world says that after Master Qi's mentor fell from grace, his cultivation realm declined and his heart was broken. That's why he agreed to be exiled to this small world. Although he constantly suffers the erosion of the Heavenly Dao's pressure, he can do whatever he wants. But I think... it may not be that simple."
Ma Kuxuan wasn't interested in these matters. He turned his head and saw the umbrella-holding man crouching beside the woman, probably comforting her with kind words.
Ma Kuxuan withdrew his gaze and walked side by side with the sword-bearing man. His steps were heavy as they returned to Apricot Alley.
The man spoke up, "You've been quite badly injured. Make sure you don't leave any hidden ailments. Otherwise, it will hinder your future cultivation."
Ma Kuxuan wiped the rain off his face with his hand and suddenly asked, "What does our small town mean to those outsiders?"
The sword cultivator replied, "It's like the small stream outside the town. There are shallow waters that barely cover the knees, and there are also deep pools with unfathomable depths. All kinds of fish and dragons mixed together."
Ma Kuxuan asked, "In the past, have any outsiders drowned while training and searching for treasures here?"
The sword cultivator smiled and shook his head. "In the past, almost never. Most of the time, it was about making peace and getting rich, with everyone happy. This time is the exception."
---
At the Yang family shop, a spirited girl carrying a boy on her back quickly crossed the threshold. She asked a middle-aged shop assistant, "Is Old Man Yang here?"
The man could tell that the girl was not ordinary, so he didn't dare to neglect her. He nodded and said, "He's in the backyard, just finished sorting the medicinal herbs. Do you need something?"
The girl nodded solemnly. "We're familiar with Old Man Yang. We need to ask him for a prescription."
The assistant hesitated for a moment, then didn't make things difficult. He led them to the main room in the backyard. An old man was tapping the table lightly with his old tobacco pipe. In a corner of the room stood a slovenly man, the gatekeeper of the small town's east side, the bachelor Zheng Dafeng. It seemed that every man has his master; when Zheng Dafeng met Old Man Yang, he didn't even dare to breathe heavily, no longer his usual slick and roguish self.
Old Man Yang waved his pipe, and Zheng Dafeng quickly slipped out of the room, taking the shop assistant with him.
Old Man Yang looked at the familiar boy on the girl's back. Chen Ping'an.
At this moment, Chen Ping'an's lips were pale, his whole body trembling, and his arms were almost desperately wrapped around the girl's neck.
Old Man Yang unhurriedly stood up, one hand behind his back and the other holding his pipe. He walked in front of the girl and looked the boy in the eyes. His voice was hoarse. "How many times have I told you? The more humble your fate and the thinner your fortune, the more you must cherish your life and your blessings. What, you encounter a little setback, and you want to die? If that's the case, why didn't you follow your mother when she left? Wouldn't that have been easier? Your Master Yao was right. He always used to say, 'Three years old shows the character, old age shows the man.' You are someone who won't live long. Even if he taught you good skills and true martial arts, it would be a waste. You would just be thrown into the ground early."
Ning Yao was dumbfounded. In her impression, Old Man Yang should be a kind and benevolent old man, always smiling.
Who would have thought he was such a sharp-tongued and harsh old man.
The old man sneered, "Does it hurt a lot?"
Chen Ping'an nodded slightly, unable to speak anymore.
When he had woken up on the girl's back earlier, the medicine had probably worn off, and the pain had already started. But Chen Ping'an thought he could endure it. When Ning Yao carried him near the Corridor Bridge, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer. So Ning Yao, not even bothering to retrieve the saber from the path by the river, quickly carried him to the Yang family shop.
The old man chuckled. "It hurts, huh? Then just bear it obediently."
Then he glanced at Ning Yao and said in a gruff voice, "Let him sit on the bench himself!"
The old man then muttered to himself, "Being carried by a young woman, aren't you ashamed?"
Ning Yao suppressed her anger and carefully helped Chen Ping'an sit on the bench. But as soon as she let go, the boy began to sway and almost fell.
Ning Yao was about to reach out and support him, but although the boy couldn't speak, his eyes signaled that he didn't need her help.
The old man took a puff from his homemade pipe, looking at the boy's body and aura. "Tsk, tsk, you really are a complete wreck now. Well, at least you have a clear conscience. A clear conscience, indeed."
The old man was completely unaffected by the boy's excruciating pain. "What kind of blessed fate does Liu Xianyang have, and what kind of lowly fate do you have? Haven't you figured it out after all these years? If he dies once, it's almost enough for you to die ten times. Do you know that?"
Ning Yao couldn't stand the old man's sarcastic tone any longer. She said gravely, "Mr. Yang, can you please stop the pain for Chen Ping'an first?"
The old man, hunched over, turned his head and looked at the girl askance, saying lightly, "Is he your man?"
Ning Yao glared at him angrily.
The old man ignored the girl and turned back to look at the boy.
He fell into deep thought.
Finally, he curled his lip and sighed. He tapped the old tobacco pipe on Chen Ping'an's shoulder, then tapped twice on each of his arms and legs.
In an instant.
The boy assumed a reclining posture, leaning his head on his elbow, lying on the bench.
The old man gave a soft command: "Sleep!"
Chen Ping'an closed his eyes immediately and fell asleep. In no time, his snores were like thunder.