57 - A Farewell to Mr. Luo

Chapter 57 Li Liansheng was taken aback by the flustered appearance of the elderly sect master, and as he listened to the master's words, he found it even more unbelievable. Da Bai had actually ransacked the secret scroll pavilion completely. "I knew that vile creature was no good. I never would have thought she could break the illusion array. We must find her and bring her back. Liansheng, follow the river downstream. She's wearing the Vajra Bracelet, so you’ll be able to sense her location." The elderly sect master paced back and forth anxiously in the great hall as he spoke. Liansheng immediately got up and hurried out. On the way, he bumped into Li Xiaoyan, who, seeing his urgency, asked curiously, "Li Liansheng, where are you going?" "To find Da Bai." With that, he left swiftly, not even giving Li Xiaoyan a chance to say anything further. Watching the figure disappear into the distance, Li Xiaoyan crossed his arms and snorted. "It's definitely no good. Every time that snake demon comes around, she stirs up a heap of trouble, making the sect restless." White Fan transformed into her snake form and swam swiftly in the water, terrified that someone might be chasing her. She didn't stop even once. When she finally felt that she had gained some distance, she crawled out of the water carefully and slipped into the dense forest. By channeling her spiritual power, she dried off her body, then called out her great grey goose, which flapped its wings and soared into the sky, carrying her far away. By the time Liansheng arrived much later, White Fan was already far beyond reach; all he could do was sigh wistfully in the direction she had flown. Liansheng looked helplessly at the direction White Fan had flown. No one could be blamed for this; it was all his grandfather’s doing. However, given the way the Qingxu Sect’s heritage had been taken, his grandfather would probably strike mercilessly the next time he saw Da Bai. Sitting on the back of her great grey goose, watching the mountains of the Qingxu Sect fade into the distance, White Fan couldn't help but feel elated, laughing heartily. She felt a pang of guilt towards Liansheng but quickly brushed it aside. "You old codger, your karma has come!" The icy wind made White Fan's cheeks flush red. She finally chose to land outside a mortal city. The great grey goose followed closely behind, its feathers warding off the cold wind. Instinctively, White Fan reached out to touch the soft and warm feathers several times, feeling a pang of envy. At times like these, feathers were far more useful; unlike her, whose scales rendered her lethargic during winter and prone to hibernation. She took out a spirit pill to feed the great grey goose before storing it in the beast pocket. Bringing such a large beast into a human city would be inconvenient. By the time White Fan entered the city, the sky was still dim, and the city gates had not yet opened. There was no firelight, and all was silent. All she felt was the occasional cold sensation of snowflakes landing on her face, and her footsteps made a crunching noise on the snow-covered ground. She knocked on the city gate, "Bang, bang!" But nothing happened for a long time, only the howling of the wind filling her ears. Thinking she had not knocked loudly enough, White Fan tried again with more force, knowing that there were night guards patrolling the walls. "Bang, bang, bang!" "Who's there?" A guard on the wall shouted down, holding a torch and looking at White Fan below. "Open the gate and let me in." "The city gates open at the third quarter of the hour of the hare. You'll have to wait another hour." "Why?" "It's the city's rules." White Fan frowned at this. Why did mortal cities have so many rules, even opening gates according to specific times? Standing by the city gate, unsure of what to do, White Fan decided to sit down. With a wave of her sleeve, she cleared away the thick snow, creating a clean spot for herself. Just as she was about to close her eyes to meditate, she noticed a figure braving the wind and snow approaching from afar, holding a flickering oil lamp. White Fan glanced at the figure and thought that this person must also be in a hurry to enter the city. When the person got closer, their features became clearer. Unlike White Fan, who was lightly dressed, this person was bundled up like a dumpling, with icicles forming on their eyebrows. The scent was somewhat familiar, but White Fan couldn’t immediately recall where she had encountered it before. Seeing that the person was a mortal, she didn't pay much attention. The person, unlike White Fan, didn't knock on the gate but instead lay down on the clean spot she had just cleared, a bit too close to her for comfort. White Fan pursed her lips, feeling that she had cleaned this spot, and now it was being taken over by someone else. Though she didn’t need that much space, her territorial instincts, likely a remnant of her beast nature, kicked in. Despite being bundled up, it was evident that the person was young, probably in their early twenties. He was the same child from years ago at the foot of Moonview Peak. His grandfather had once guided White Fan, but after several years, the child had grown into a young man, ready to explore the world beyond the mountains. White Fan felt the familiarity was probably because of the familial scent. That’s why Da Bai felt familiar but unacquainted; after so many years, White Fan had forgotten the old man, who must long since have turned to dust. Setting out from his mountain home for the first time, the young man had only heard of the outside world through his father and grandfather. His family survived through hunting in the mountains, and now, to earn a living, he intended to find work in the city. However, jobs were scarce in this snowy weather. Despite his father's advice to wait until spring to venture out, his fervor drove him down the mountain, his pack filled with jerked meat. An hour passed quickly as she sat waiting. Initially, it was just White Fan and the young man. Soon, more people arrived one after another. White Fan’s cleared spot became increasingly crowded, and she grew more annoyed, deciding to stand up and move into the snow. Her odd behavior attracted stares and whispers: "Why is he wearing so little? I shiver after standing here for just a moment. Look, he's wearing just a thin robe." White Fan naturally heard this. Her clothes were no ordinary attire but garments from the Xuanming Sect, keeping her warm in winter and cool in summer. Though she could feel the cold, it wasn't unbearable. As the time to open the city gates approached, the young man also stood up. The guard shouted loudly, "Open the gates!" The heavy gates slowly swung open. White Fan stood at the back of the crowd as people rushed in. These were early market-goers vying for the best spots. Some pushed carts, others carried baskets or led children by the hand. White Fan, unhurried, followed the throng. The city was already bustling with vendors setting up their stalls. The steam from numerous meat bun shops rose into the frigid air. "Fresh meat buns for sale! Buy your fresh meat buns!" "Boss, how much for these meat buns?" White Fan's mouth watered at the sight. She hadn't tasted mundane food in a long while, and the sight of the buns made her nostalgic, reminding her of someone who often stole food. "Two for one wen." "Give me ten meat buns." "You got it." White Fan took out several small pieces of silver from her storage pouch, handed them over, and bit into a bun. The bun was large, thin-skinned, and filled with juicy meat - the yellow broth oozing from the bite. "Mmm, delicious." "Here’s your change, young master. Please keep it safe." "Thank you." As she wandered the streets, munching on a bun, she thought that perhaps in the bustling mortal city, there was a brief taste of tranquility, although who knew when such peace might be shattered. Delightedly savoring her bun, she soon noticed a group of wild dogs following her. One came right up to her feet, wagging its tail, its coat as black as ink except for two white spots above its eyes. The other wild dogs rummaged through trash nearby. White Fan continued munching, enjoying the rich meat juices, and shook her head at the black dog, saying, "No, I don't have any for you. Stop following me." The black dog wagged its tail even more energetically, its pink tongue lolling as it gazed at her pleadingly. "Your whining won’t work on me. There are so many people on the street. Why follow me? I won’t share." She stuffed the rest of the bun into her mouth, her face now glistening with oil, which contrasted comically with her delicate and refined features. "Whimper, whimper." "I'm still not giving it to you," she said, firmly. The black dog wagged its tail so vigorously that its rear end seemed to lift off the ground, but White Fan didn't spare a single bite. She ate every piece of the meat bun in front of the black dog, attracting the attention of passersby. Old men shook their heads in disapproval, women walked past with amused smiles, and young girls blushed at the sight. Amidst the annoyance of the black dog's whining, a piece of dried meat suddenly flew over, which the black dog immediately pounced on before disappearing. White Fan found this uninteresting and looked up to see the young man from earlier on the roadside, gnawing on dried meat and sipping water from a pouch, his face red with cold. "You have food; why tease that poor creature? In such cold weather, it can't find anything to eat. That female dog might even need to return to nurse her pups. Without the mother to keep them warm, the pups could easily freeze to death." White Fan snorted through her nose. How would she know the dog was female? "Virgin Mary." The young man had now revealed his face, his features simple and honest but with bright, spirited eyes. Not understanding White Fan's words, he continued gnawing on his dried meat. Entering a teahouse, White Fan ordered a pot of hot tea and took a seat on the upper floor, enjoying the snowy scenery through the wide-open windows. Aside from her, the place was empty. A shop assistant brought over some salted peanuts, rubbing his hands together as he spoke, "Young master, would you like to sit downstairs? It’s open to the wind here, very cold. The tea on the table will cool quickly." "No matter, I quite like it here. The view is beautiful. You may go about your business." With that, White Fan popped a peanut into her mouth, resting her head on her hand as she watched the abundant snowfall. Seeing that he couldn't persuade her, the shop assistant left, thinking to himself how odd this person was. Alone, wearing so little in the dead of winter, yet enjoying the cold wind. Truly peculiar. The snow that had just stopped started falling heavily again, causing many street vendors to pack up and leaving few outside. Snow in the south quickly turned to slush, and only an occasional umbrellaed passerby moved along the street. After a sip of tea, White Fan exhaled contentedly. Life outside the sect was much more comfortable, bustling with activity compared to the secluded mountains. Moreover, since powerful beings could manipulate the weather, such heavy snowfall was rarely seen. Inadvertently, White Fan noticed the young man again. Wrapped in threadbare clothes, he now huddled under an eave, knees together, likely feeling the painful cold in his feet. When White Fan looked his way, the young man seemed to notice and glanced up to see her sitting by the window, their eyes meeting in a mutual frown. White Fan averted her gaze, looking elsewhere. The rooftops were covered in snow, and though it was still morning, the sky seemed almost night-like. Sparrows occasionally flew down searching for food. The shop's assistant threw out a basin of hot water, startling the sparrows into flight before they quickly returned. Once White Fan finished her pot of tea, she settled the bill and left, pausing briefly to watch the sparrows again. Not long after continuing her walk, she heard someone in the town banging a gong, "Dong, dong, dong." The three resounding bangs drew everyone's attention. Doors opened, windows too. A coal merchant opened his door, hugging his sleeves, and said to a nearby person, "Someone's passed away again, I suppose. This winter has been harsh, and those with weaker constitutions can't endure." Only then did White Fan realize that someone had died. With nothing else to do, she followed the sound of the gong, passing alleys where dogs barked. Arriving at the residence of the deceased, she saw white lanterns hung at the entrance and the large gates wide open. It was a grand mansion with many servants bustling about, though no distinguished host was visible; everything seemed orderly. Inside, the sound of women weeping echoed. Finding nothing more of interest, White Fan turned to leave but then saw a wisp of a spirit emerging from the courtyard. A shiver ran down her spine; she thought to herself that she might have encountered a ghost again. Not wanting to be haunted like last time, she decided to pretend she hadn’t seen anything. The household was in the process of preparing the casket, everyone clad in white mourning attire. "Madam Elder." "Old mistress, with you gone, what will become of us?" "Sob, sob, sob." "Old mistress." He Yiman stood bewildered among the mourning crowd. The old lady, who had taken her in and now suddenly passed away from an acute illness, left the mansion in mournful disarray. She felt at a loss, uncertain of what to do. A young maid with red eyes entered, holding a mourning robe, and tearfully pleaded, "The old mistress had no close relatives. In her sudden passing, there's no one to perform the rites. Miss, since you were taken in by her, we beg you to take charge." Not entirely understanding the customs, He Yiman agreed, letting the maid drape the mourning robe over her, making her look even more solemn and subdued. "Miss, please come with me." White Fan, hesitant about leaving, turned back partway, feeling an urge to investigate further. There seemed to be something in the mansion drawing her attention. Avoiding the main entrance due to the mourning rituals, she climbed over the back wall of the grand mansion, where all the servants were still occupied in the front yard with the casket. The back courtyard was quiet, except for a few sparrows hopping on bare branches. After White Fan passed, they chirped a bit before settling again. "I hope I don't encounter anything strange," she muttered, walking through the courtyard filled with scurrying footprints. Seeing a room with its door ajar and the heaviest aura of death and being near the main residence, White Fan deduced the deceased must have been the household's matriarch. Just as she entered, she heard voices from inside. Quickly, she channeled her spiritual power and hid, eavesdropping on their conversation. "Miss, these were the old mistress's belongings. Her clothes have been burned, but what should we do with these jewels? Should they be buried with her or...?" He Yiman, looking at the jewelry, felt no emotion. To a cultivator, they were merely stones. "Bury them with her." Hearing this familiar voice, White Fan paused in surprise. She took a sniff but couldn't clearly discern anything due to the heavy death scent inside. As people began to leave, White Fan quickly leaped onto the rooftop. He Yiman exiting the room felt watched. Looking up, she saw a figure crouched on the roof. Their eyes met; He Yiman's expression remained calm, while White Fan's eyes lit up, internally exclaiming "He Yiman!" He Yiman stopped, and the maid beside her followed her gaze, spotting White Fan in white robes atop the roof. The wind tousled her hair, and her strikingly beautiful face left the maid almost gasping. "Who are you?" He Yiman, sensing no malice from White Fan, asked cautiously. Ever since the fall of the Ephemeral Palace, she had been wary of other cultivators. White Fan was stunned by the question. Did He Yiman not recognize her? Disappointment washed over her face. Gently descending, she asked, "Miss He, do you not recognize me?" He Yiman scrutinized her, frowning. She really couldn't recall meeting such a handsome young man before. With a sigh of disappointment, White Fan explained, "It's me, White Fan. We met years ago in the Immortal City, and you told me about the wastelands." "Ah, it's you. I didn't recognize you after all these years," He Yiman replied, relaxing a bit. Relieved that she hadn’t been forgotten, White Fan inquired, "What brings you here, Miss He? Are you related to the deceased?" Shaking her head, He Yiman remained silent while the maid explained, "Miss was saved by the old mistress at the gate last month. She had caught a severe wind chill then. But with the old mistress's sudden passing due to her acute illness, there's no one left to take charge. We had to ask Miss He to help." White Fan marveled that He Yiman could still fall ill. Though no matter how talented, still a mortal; illness in winter wasn’t unusual. They spoke briefly before lulling into silence. He Yiman didn’t ask White Fan to accompany her, so she could only watch He Yiman head to the front courtyard. White Fan remained in the large mansion, watching over He Yiman. She decided to wait until the funeral rites were completed before talking further. The funeral procession was sparse, consisting mostly of maids and older female servants. White Fan walked with her arms crossed, trailing behind He Yiman. After leaving the city, they buried the deceased, the weeping and wailing audience largely made up of those who had served the elderly woman. Once the burial mound was covered, the crying ceased. The group returned to the mansion, where they discussed their next steps. Many left with their severance silver, leaving only two maids behind to watch over the now nearly empty house. "Miss, it's time to eat." He Yiman pushed open the door and saw that most of the former furnishings had been sold off to pay for the severances, leaving only some basic furniture. "Thank you." "Miss, there's no need to thank me. If you hadn’t helped, this place might have been looted after the old mistress's passing. The little that remains gives us maids a place to stay." Hearing voices inside, White Fan pushed the door open and entered, noticing the food on the table. The maids hadn't expected her to still be there. "So, you're dining." He Yiman nodded and sat down, taking her bowl and chopsticks to start eating. However, the young maid felt a bit awkward and said, "Young master, I'm afraid we only prepared a small amount of food. There might not be enough to share." White Fan shook her head. "No problem, no problem. Eating is optional for me; I don’t need to fill my belly. You go ahead and eat." The three sat down to eat, with White Fan standing nearby, oblivious to the discomfort she was causing, watching them enjoy their meal. After the meal, He Yiman thanked the maids and headed back to her room, only to notice White Fan following her. She turned and asked, "Do you still have something to say to me?" White Fan tugged at her sleeve, looking a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to discuss the journey to the Wastelands with you." He Yiman sighed, "I'm afraid I must decline. I have other matters to attend to. White Fan, if you wish to go, you'll have to go without me." "Why?" White Fan asked, puzzled. "You must understand, I am a disciple of the Ephemeral Palace. After its fall, only my junior sister and I survived. She is now lost and I must find her. The trip to the Wastelands will have to be postponed indefinitely." "Oh," White Fan responded, disappointed. She had stayed in the Southern Continent to find He Yiman, only to discover she wouldn't be heading to the Wastelands but searching for her junior sister instead. "Yes, I'm sorry. If you have other plans, please pursue them first." "I don’t have much else to do. If you’re searching for your junior sister, why don’t I accompany you? I’m not picky about where I stay, and I can cover my own expenses." He Yiman found White Fan's persistence exasperating and gently advised, "You and I are different. I am known as a disciple of the Ephemeral Palace. Traveling with me could be dangerous." "It’s fine, I don’t mind. Besides, with your skills, no one could hurt me," White Fan said with a bright smile, her refined and beautiful face turning slightly red, making her look even more charming. ********************** Thank you, dear readers, for your support with votes or nutritional fluids! Special thanks to the following for their [Landmine] donation: suiyi – 1 piece; Special thanks to the following for providing [Nutritional Fluids]: Thank you all for your continued support. I will keep working hard! Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter Home | Desktop Version | Bookshelf | Complete Novels List | Popular Novels