“Since Your Excellency can peer into my heart, what about your own?”
Ren Yijue did not need long to regain his composure. His heart might be in turmoil, but hearts tangled into chaos were hardly rare in this world. What was there to fear or avoid?
Qian Xuelang thought for a moment. “Mine?”
“Exactly.” Ren Yijue smiled faintly. “Your Excellency says you cannot pass the trial of emotion, but even if you understand Ren’s feelings, what use is that? Surely this heart cannot be exchanged and handed over to you.”
Though he smiled, there was no happiness in his eyes.
Since beginning cultivation, Qian Xuelang had never been burdened by external things, nor had he ever developed much emotion. Thus even after the Heavenly Mandate pointed him in a direction, it remained in his mind like someone else’s problem. He merely wanted an answer. Hearing Ren Yijue’s words now, however, suddenly made everything clear.
“Indeed. There are tens of millions of people in the world, and each has feelings of their own. Even if I ask them, those feelings are not mine.” Qian Xuelang spoke slowly, as though enlightenment had dawned on him.
For no particular reason, Ren Yijue found this faintly ironic. This incomparably proud man climbing toward Heaven was somehow as innocent as a child when it came to matters of emotion.
Whether he would ultimately become an immortal who transcended the mundane world or cultivate himself into an obstinate, unfeeling stone seemed to depend on nothing more than a single thought from this Daoist as cold as ice and snow.
For a time, Ren Yijue no longer hated him quite so much. He even felt that the anger surging through him had arisen without any real cause.
Why lose one’s temper with a block of ice?
Without his noticing, the fire in his heart cooled into a hollow helplessness. Ren Yijue’s voice became light and clear, flowing like a stream. “Emotion is something extraordinarily precious. Your Excellency has never even picked it up. How can you speak of being unable to pass its trial?”
Though he was no longer angry with the man, a hidden edge of malice remained in his words. He wanted, deliberately, to make Qian Xuelang feel some pain.
Qian Xuelang still showed no reaction. Instead, he smiled faintly. “Yes. Yes. So that’s how it is. Thank you for your guidance, Fellow Daoist Ren.”
During all the time they had spent together on the mountain, Qian Xuelang had never once softened his bearing, much less smiled openly. Now it was only the most ordinary of smiles, yet Ren Yijue still stared.
He looked slightly different from his usual hard, cold self.
Ren Yijue’s mind wandered. Every word he had meant to say vanished completely. All the hatred, anger, and desire to teach this man some small lesson disappeared in an instant. He had time only to feel relieved. Good thing I didn’t bring a fan up the mountain to play at elegance. If I dropped it now, I’d make an absolute fool of myself.
Calling it relief was probably too mild. Dread was closer. Ren Yijue knew perfectly well about this romantic weakness in his temperament.
If he embarrassed himself in front of Qian Xuelang, he might as well throw himself straight off the mountain.
Qian Xuelang noticed the strange expression on his face, but how could he possibly guess what thoughts were boiling inside this deeply emotional man? After receiving Ren Yijue’s guidance today, Qian Xuelang felt memories from years past rising one after another in his mind. At last, he truly understood what the Heavenly Mandate had been pointing toward.
“Ahem.” Ren Yijue had always found this man rather dull, yet one conversation had somehow stirred a faint flutter in his own heart. The feeling was strange enough that he said, “In any case, the wind is strong at night. We should head back early.”
Naturally, Qian Xuelang agreed, and the two walked side by side toward the snow cave.
Back inside, Ren Yijue had already read more than half his book, while his fan lay on the table. With nothing else to do, he simply lit the stove. Before long, the crackle of burning wood filled the cave. He did not truly need the warmth. He merely did not want to speak to Qian Xuelang.
Yet for some reason, his mind kept returning to Qian Xuelang’s smile.
Had Feng Yinming ever seen it?
That final look Feng Yinming had cast before leaving had been obvious to anyone who was neither blind nor Qian Xuelang.
But whether he had seen that smile or not, what difference did it make?
The flickering fire reflected in Ren Yijue’s dark eyes, like that restless romantic root in his nature forever sprouting tiny shoots of delight and leaves of affection.
Qian Xuelang paid no attention to him warming himself by the fire, nor did he find the smoke in the cave bothersome. He merely settled into meditation and began thinking of events from many years ago.
It truly had been a very, very long time.
No person possessed only a present and future. Naturally, there was also a past. Qian Xuelang too had once been a child cared for by others. In truth, he remembered little of that time. Even the faces of the people who had once surrounded him had blurred almost entirely.
But he still remembered the day he stepped onto the path of cultivation.
Qian Xuelang had been born into a great and prestigious clan. Even as a child he possessed an aloof temperament and seemed to see through the ways of the world. His elders wished to make him happy, yet never knew how.
When he was eight years old, the city held an enormous lantern festival, and his family took him into the streets to see the festivities.
Perhaps the celebration was simply too lively. Travelers had come from distant places, and many yao, spirits, and other strange beings had mixed into the crowd in search of excitement. Some drank too much and caused trouble, revealing their true forms and frightening ordinary people. Others went wild and began devouring human flesh, throwing the festival into terrible chaos.
Held in his family’s arms amid the turmoil, Qian Xuelang saw his future master, He Tianjun.
Contrary to the sword-immortal tales people liked to hear, where a single frost-cold strike cut down demons and evil, when Qian Xuelang saw He Tianjun he was strolling unhurriedly across a bridge. His figure drifted like falling snow. He was in no hurry to rescue anyone and no hurry to destroy the monsters, utterly unrestrained by anything.
Qian Xuelang was young, yet something about the sight suddenly fascinated him. So there is someone in heaven and earth who can live with such freedom.
For the first time in his life, he called out to a stranger of his own accord.
Everything around them seemed to fall silent. People rushed back and forth with frightened faces, while the family holding Qian Xuelang stood frozen where they were.
The wife held their beloved son. The husband protected his wife and child. There was neither fear nor panic on the boy’s face, while both adults were already filled with worry.
“You are a son worth a thousand gold, cherished in every way and surrounded by boundless wealth and privilege,” He Tianjun said from the bridge. “Why endure the hardship of seeking the Dao? Do you know that studying the Dao brings the difficulty of pursuing unanswered questions and the loneliness of long life? The troubles you encounter will only become broader and greater than those of ordinary people, and your worries will become endless.”
“Worse still, after cultivating for a hundred or a thousand years, everything may ultimately come to nothing.”
Qian Xuelang replied, “I have parents. The servants and maids who attend me also have parents. What difference is there in a parent’s love? Power and position change in the blink of an eye. Today I may be a son worth a thousand gold; tomorrow I may not be worth a single coin. So-called favor and wealth are only passing smoke. I have already seen through them and do not treasure them. How do you know that seeking the Dao would be bitter to me, while living an ordinary life would be sweet?”
“Very well,” He Tianjun said. “Then jump down from those arms and come to me.”
Qian Xuelang struggled free. He broke from that love and tenderness, broke from the ten thousand fathoms of the mortal world. He had emerged from the bustling crowd, and now he stepped out of it again.
His cumbersome brocade robes remained clutched in the woman’s embrace, while his ornate little crown slipped from the man’s hand and fell. The prestigious household into which he had been born was abandoned there as well.
He wanted none of those external things.
When He Tianjun took his hand, even he seemed surprised. “You truly won’t look back?”
Qian Xuelang said, “If I intended to look back, why would I have jumped down at all? If I turned around now, would their hearts cease to break? Would they suddenly be able to let me go? Encountering someone like you, while I possess this desire, means they must let me go. If in the future they encounter someone stronger, then even if I do not wish it, they may still have to let me go.”
However unwilling they were to let go, in the end they would still have to.
A parent’s love for a child was certainly difficult for any outside force to contest. Yet for a great clan, there were many things considered more important than one gifted child.
Just as Qian Xuelang had said, He Tianjun formed a single karmic tie, and a husband and wife surrendered the treasure of their hearts.
Even then, He Tianjun had told Qian Xuelang, “Your Dao is also your obstacle. This nature of yours allows you to leave the mortal world behind, and that very same nature will ensure that you remain trapped within it. Very well. We shall see what fortune brings you.”
So that was it.
Qian Xuelang thought.
My Dao has taken form, and therefore my obstacle has arisen.
So this was what Master meant.