As when he had traveled with the Jiufang disciples before, Qian Xuelang stayed apart from everyone else.
The Zhaoying Sword Sect disciples gathered together and lit a fire to keep warm. They were all young and had not yet entered inedia, so they roasted some dry provisions to fill their stomachs. Perhaps because their rations were particularly coarse, they inevitably began to complain.
One kindhearted disciple looked toward Qian Xuelang, who stood at a distance. The senior was half hidden in the mist, visible one moment and indistinct the next, like an apparition. Hesitantly the boy said, “That man… that senior doesn’t seem to have eaten anything. Should we take him some food?”
Though the youngster wanted to be friendly, Qian Xuelang’s appearance frightened him. He faltered, looking to his senior and junior brothers for their opinions.
No sooner had he spoken than someone tapped his head, neither too hard nor too lightly. He saw his second senior brother Tang Wenxian glaring at him and immediately shrank back. “Mind your own business,” Tang said coldly.
The kindly disciple was still young. Intimidated by his senior brother, he fell silent, feeling wronged.
Tang Wenxian then cast a sidelong look at He Yuntao and said sarcastically, “This isn’t your business. Let Eldest Senior Brother make the decision.”
Tang Wenxian had just suffered a humiliating loss of face at Qian Xuelang’s hands. Now he wanted to send He Yuntao over to experience the same unpleasantness. With such an eccentric, cold person, He Yuntao was bound to suffer some embarrassment.
He Yuntao considered the matter and said evenly, “Little Junior Brother is right. Since we’re traveling together, we should look after one another. I’ll bring the food to Senior. Everyone else should eat, then rest a while and recover your strength.”
With that he stood and went over to Qian Xuelang, politely asking whether he wanted some of their dry rations.
Qian Xuelang had little appetite, and he had long since entered inedia and no longer needed to eat. But he did require He Yuntao’s help and did not wish to reject his kindness. He agreed.
The disciples were crowded together, secretly watching. When they saw that he was actually willing to accept the food, they relaxed considerably. Only Tang Wenxian snorted.
He Yuntao was holding out a packet wrapped in oiled paper, expecting Qian Xuelang to take it. Instead Qian Xuelang examined the contents and reached out to pick up one piece.
The provisions had been roasted repeatedly and were crumbling in places, yet they were still hard as a rock. Qian Xuelang chose a small fragment and put it in his mouth. It felt as though his teeth were biting stone, dry and rough. He had to let it soften slowly with his saliva. There was scarcely any flavor.
He Yuntao had intended to give Qian Xuelang the entire packet of provisions. Seeing him take only one piece, he stood there dumbfounded, unsure whether the senior wanted more. After hesitating, he remained where he was.
Tang Wenxian had his hands on several junior brothers as they craned their necks to watch. Seeing He Yuntao foolishly standing there holding out the packet, he could not help snickering. So what if you’re the leading disciple? When you meet someone truly powerful, you still have to bow and scrape, doing all the dirty work like an ox or horse, a servant or slave!
After eating one piece of the rations, Qian Xuelang saw that He Yuntao still would not leave. He paused in surprise, then abruptly asked, “Your injuries haven’t healed. Why have you traveled so far to come here? Even if you’re devoted to eliminating monsters, this is an excessively long journey.”
Independent cultivators might have little support, but they were free to come and go. The reputable sects, by contrast, had many rules and restrictions. Each sect had its territory and jurisdiction, and if another sect interfered in its affairs, it would lose face. That was why Qian Xuelang raised the question.
Qian Xuelang paused, then thought of another possibility. “Has someone in your sect forced you to come?”
He Yuntao immediately denied it. “Certainly not. I insisted on coming, and the elders only reluctantly agreed. The trouble here began because of me, so I wanted to finish what I started and see it resolved.”
“You insisted on coming yourself.” Qian Xuelang’s formerly neutral expression cooled slightly. “Even if you won’t consider your own welfare, shouldn’t you consider the person who saved you?”
He Yuntao was startled and echoed, “The person who saved me…” Only then did he understand. Alarm and delight overcame him, though he struggled to remain composed. “Senior… do you know my benefactor?”
Qian Xuelang nodded. “Yes, I do. Why?”
“D-do you know where my benefactor is now?” He Yuntao asked excitedly. “When I woke up, my elders said he had gone away with Senior Feng to recover in some immortal retreat. I woke too late to thank him. I haven’t even had a chance to repay one ten-thousandth of his kindness.”
Qian Xuelang considered for a moment. He had not seen Ren Yijue for quite some time, and hearing things about him seemed unexpectedly fresh and interesting. Although Qian Xuelang already knew something of this matter, he said, “Tell me everything that happened, from beginning to end.”
Listening to someone speak of Ren Yijue made it seem almost as though Ren Yijue were present with him again.
He Yuntao did not understand the request, but he complied with Qian Xuelang’s wishes, relating all the particulars of their time together.
The story of He Yuntao’s injuries was considered a secret within the Zhaoying Sword Sect. Apart from the sect master and elders, none of the other disciples knew the details. He Yuntao himself kept his own counsel and never talked idly, so no one among the disciples knew what had happened.
They knew only that someone had brought He Yuntao home gravely injured, and then departed with the visiting Senior Feng. They had been intensely curious about the matter ever since. Now they all pricked up their ears.
On that day, gravely injured, He Yuntao had escaped into Liuyanzhu. The demonic qi bewildered him, clouding his senses. He knew only that the demonkin pursuing him had stopped short at the border. He was too weak to go any farther, and collapsed unconscious.
Half waking and half dreaming, He Yuntao sensed someone taking meticulous care of him. Occasionally a gentle, warm voice sounded beside his ear, sustaining him. The demonic qi inside him diminished day after day, and his injuries gradually healed. When at last he opened his eyes, he saw a man in green robes arranging a flower by the window. The slender-necked vase stood gracefully, its porcelain smooth, while the elegant and handsome man beside it completed a scene like a painting.
The man noticed that He Yuntao was awake, turned, and smiled faintly at him. He did not introduce himself. He Yuntao simply called him his benefactor and never dared presumptuously ask his name.
His benefactor was naturally gentle, thoughtful, and considerate, conducting himself with cultured propriety in both speech and action. He Yuntao had worries in his heart, but under the man’s care he gradually set them aside. After several days of recuperation, however, his benefactor’s enemies came looking for him, and the two were forced to abandon the little house and flee together.
He Yuntao did not know the demonkin who came after them, and his benefactor never explained either…
Just as He Yuntao reached this point in his story, Qian Xuelang suddenly interrupted. “Wait. You mean the demon came looking for him only after he’d cared for you for several days?”
“That’s right.” He Yuntao nodded. “Why do you ask, Senior?”
Qian Xuelang recalled what had happened when he killed Ling Baiyao on the mountain. At the time he had known that Ren Yijue had landed himself in terrible trouble. He had asked whether Ren Yijue had helped He Yuntao only to seek aid from the Zhaoying Sword Sect. If Ren Yijue had rescued He Yuntao before he ever encountered Ling Baiyao, why had he not told Qian Xuelang the truth? Why had he answered ambiguously, almost deliberately allowing Qian Xuelang to misunderstand?
After a moment’s thought, Qian Xuelang understood. I see. I judged him to be a petty man, so he let me see him as a petty man rather than bothering to explain. Just as Ren Yijue said himself: when others treat me well, I repay them a hundredfold, a thousandfold. But when they treat me poorly, I can’t help wanting to let them taste a little hardship.
Qian Xuelang felt a little ashamed. I thought too little of him then, yet he never blamed me for it.
“It’s nothing,” Qian Xuelang said, shaking his head. “Continue.”
So He Yuntao went on. His benefactor had not wanted to drag him into further danger and proposed that they separate. But how could He Yuntao abandon the man during such a desperate time? He insisted on remaining, and the two planned to seek protection at a nearby immortal sect. With little time and no other choice, they had to learn to cooperate while fighting a shared enemy. He Yuntao excelled at swordsmanship and formations, while his benefactor seemed proficient in everything. Learning from each other as they traveled, they erected numerous formations that really did slow Ling Baiyao’s pursuit.
A few times Ling Baiyao nearly caught and killed them. Through their repeated cooperation on the brink of death, they were always lucky enough to seize an opportunity and survive. Unfortunately, just as they were about to reach a nearby cultivation sect, Ling Baiyao finally caught up.
He Yuntao wanted to set up another formation, but there was no time. They had to confront him directly. Fortunately, the commotion soon attracted the attention of the nearby immortal sect, and disciples arrived to help. Growing increasingly desperate, Ling Baiyao saw that he could not settle the fight that day. Ling Baiyao struck He Yuntao with a palm blow. Already injured, He Yuntao lost consciousness completely and knew nothing of what happened next.
When he woke again, he was back in the Zhaoying Sword Sect.
The disciples were utterly captivated by the tale, wishing they could take He Yuntao’s place and experience such a passionate, loyal, thrilling, life-and-death adventure themselves.
Tang Wenxian was no exception. Only after a little while did he recover himself, click his tongue, and say, “For someone with Eldest Senior Brother’s abilities, you were remarkably useless at the critical moment. If not for your benefactor, I doubt you’d have made it back alive.”
Another disciple protested indignantly on He Yuntao’s behalf. “Second Senior Brother, how can you say that? Eldest Senior Brother’s formations bought his benefactor a great deal of time!”
Only then did Qian Xuelang understand that what he had seen in the heavenly secrets, and mistaken for mutual admiration between He Yuntao and Ren Yijue over swordsmanship and the swordsmanship pact they appeared to have made, had really been encouragement shared at the edge of life and death. When the two men had laughed so freely, it was because they had already set aside all concern for their own survival.
Without knowing what had led up to that scene, he had always assumed the two had some special bond and thought no more of it. Now that he knew, he could not quite name what he felt.
Heavenly secrets were not books. They did not set out all the causes and consequences for a cultivator. What a cultivator saw was extremely limited, and drawing conclusions rashly was scarcely different from tearing a passage out of context.
He Tianjun had warned Qian Xuelang of this countless times in the past. Yet Qian Xuelang had never imagined he would still fall into such an error of assumption.
Could all my earlier conjectures have been wrong?
Over the course of his journey, Qian Xuelang had now met Cui Jingchun, He Yuntao, and Bai Wujin. Bai Wujin had yet to meet Ren Yijue, while Cui Jingchun and He Yuntao had both confirmed, to some extent, what the heavenly secrets had revealed.
Even now, Qian Xuelang could make no sense of what the heavenly secrets had shown him. Why should his destined mission have anything to do with Ren Yijue? Was it because of the Heavenly Demon’s revival and the demonic qi in Ren Yijue’s body? Would these people connected to Ren Yijue in his visions all play a role in the battle to slay the Heavenly Demon?
But if this really concerned the Heavenly Demon, wouldn’t the demon himself be an even more fitting choice?
Qian Xuelang had once thought that fate was hinting at the feelings he lacked. Now, however, he was no longer so sure.