Chapter Sixty-Six: Drizzling Rain, White Steed, Sword in Hand, Roaming the Rivers and Lakes
Lu Qian leapt out of the cave, chanting under his breath.
"Beneath the firmament, white clouds gather; mist descends. First shroud the sun and moon, then overturn heaven and earth; mountains breathe life, waters surge. Command!"
The winds shifted, clouds darkened, and rain poured in torrents.
Flowers, grasses, and trees withered; birds and beasts were reduced to bones, their flesh stripped away.
Standing at the heart of the downpour, the True Water of the Yin Sunflower had no effect on him.
Rain covered a hundred yards in every direction.
Within its reach, all things were washed clean, as if swept by calamity.
The rain of Yin Sunflower formed a pitch-black mist, swirling around him, appearing and vanishing.
The rain continued to fall, and Lu Qian made another gesture.
"Mist-worms gather clouds, spanning the sky’s waist; summon or halt rain, slay dragons in the sea; obey my command, swiftly cease the rain! Divine soldiers, haste as decreed!"
The clouds dispersed, the sky cleared, and the air grew bright.
Lu Qian closed his eyes, focusing his spirit on the golden mirror within his sea of consciousness.
Cloud-weaving and Rainbow-breaking Spell (Initiate: 10/200)
This was a spell he had exchanged for at the Lecture Hall.
It could summon wind and rain, scourging enemies within its range with True Water.
Body, magical tools, and spirit alike would be tainted by the water.
The spell consisted of three main parts: the Rain-summoning Incantation, the Rainbow-breaking Incantation, and the Cloud-weaving Incantation.
The first two summoned clouds and halted rain; the last could create true water and dark clouds to shield and conceal the caster.
The series of spells could be cast separately, such as cloud-weaving for self-defense.
Having practiced the spell, Lu Qian returned to pack his belongings.
Medicines, herbs, fish-dragon grass, and related vessels—he gathered them all.
He went to Medicine Mountain, where Li Du still sat at his familiar stone table, drinking.
"Master, I am leaving," Lu Qian said, bowing respectfully.
"Good to escape the limelight for a while," Li Du replied with a smile. "In two years, your cultivation will surely advance by leaps and bounds."
"I hope so."
Two years was not long, but it was a good time to consolidate his cultivation.
He could observe the situation in the temple, absorb the fish-dragon blood, and if things went awry, make his escape.
In the pharmacy, two youths, a boy and a girl about sixteen or seventeen, watched timidly from afar.
When Lu Qian’s gaze met theirs, they quickly turned away in fright.
"Are these new acolytes?" Lu Qian asked with a smile.
Looking at them, he saw a reflection of his own early days.
"Lin Qing has entered a death-locked retreat, so I had to bring in two new acolytes," Li Du explained.
"A death-locked retreat?" Lu Qian was startled.
Such resolve! A death-locked retreat was not mere words.
One does not emerge until breaking through the realm.
Either walk out upright or be carried out.
The temple had a special place for such retreats.
It was gloomy all year, sunlight never reached it.
If there was no movement for three years, the temple would send someone to clean up the remains.
He had not expected a frail woman to have such a thirst for immortality.
Lu Qian felt that this time, she would surely emerge.
After bidding Li Du farewell, Lu Qian shouldered his pack and descended the mountain.
He had so many things that his Heaven’s Bag was at capacity, so he had to carry the rest.
The Temple of Profound Shadows was shrouded in black mist all year; walking alone into the woods, he felt a chill and eerie silence.
Flocks of emerald crows flew across the sky.
Deep in the forest, tall sentinels patrolled.
Ahead stood a Daoist in black robes.
His back was to Lu Qian, pale light casting a long shadow.
The man turned, revealing emerald eyes and handsome features. In his left hand was a folding fan, in his right a delicate purple clay teapot.
Long’er saw Lu Qian and smiled gently. "Brother Lu, I heard you’re traveling far, so I came to see you off."
"Brother Long!" Lu Qian replied, smiling and bowing.
Long’er produced a white jade wine cup, tilting the teapot so emerald liquor poured in.
Mist curled around, the aroma rich and mysterious.
The fragrance was invigorating, refreshing his spirit, and his inner energy seemed to swell.
"This is Jade Dew Green Ant Wine, distilled from the essence of heaven and earth, sun and moon. A sip is worth a month of cultivation. I brought it especially to wish you well."
Long’er raised his cup in invitation and drank it in one gulp.
"Thank you." Lu Qian took the cup and drank likewise.
One does not strike a smiling face.
Though he did not know Long’er’s true intent, he had no fear of being poisoned.
As the wine passed his lips, its rich aroma struck him.
The condensation of True Water sped up, the scale rising by dozens—truly excellent wine.
"May your journey be smooth, Brother Lu."
After exchanging contact paper cranes, Long’er departed freely, his figure drifting as he sang an old tune.
"In mist and fragrance, amid water and clouds’ reflection, the world stands apart. Like the Jade Emperor’s golden gardens, the celestial palace’s register. Where myriad flowers bloom, immortals gather, laughter and spring wind abound."
Once Long’er had gone, Lu Qian’s smile faded.
The wine was pure, untainted; whether the man was good was another matter.
He was truly refined, but his motives were unclear.
Especially as he was the palace master’s disciple, Lu Qian could not help but suspect hidden intentions.
He shook his head, banishing stray thoughts.
No matter—Long’er was about his age, and also in the late stage of Qi refining.
At worst, they could have a contest.
He descended the mountain.
From his pack, he took out a paper horse.
A breath of ghostly fire brought forth a lifelike white horse.
Mounting it, he rode into the spring.
The paper horse would last five hours, carrying him five hundred li.
He would not seek a place to rest at night.
Instead, he summoned paper servants to carry his sedan chair, traveling while resting inside.
They could carry him about two hundred li overnight.
Thus, he could reach his destination in three days.
So, Lu Qian rode by day, traveled by sedan at night.
He avoided populous places.
Sometimes he encountered a few traveling escort teams at night, frightening them out of their wits.
He took breaks at teahouses, bought some dried fruit, and soon was back on the dusty road.
At times, he paused to take in the scenery, experiencing customs and traditions.
With fine rain, white horse, and sword in hand, he wandered the world.
To cultivate the Dao was to pursue joy and freedom, unburdened by mortal cares.
Pausing and traveling, he lost a few days to leisure.
...
A night for murder.
On the official road, a carriage sped through the dust in the deep night.
Eight black-armored riders guarded its sides.
Inside sat a cultured man in his thirties, pale-faced and beardless.
His brows bore a hint of nobility; he held authority and exuded a natural dignity.
Swish!
Arrows shot from the roadside.
"Bad news! Ambush!" shouted a black-armored rider, drawing his sword to deflect the arrows.
At once, a dozen sturdy men in black leapt from the bushes, charging the carriage with weapons.
The leader of the black-clad men attacked the chief rider.
The chief met him with sword in hand.
Bang!
His exquisite swordplay was met by a powerful palm striking the blade, the force overwhelming, sending the sword flying.
"Wind and Thunder Palm! You’re the leader of the Thirteen Cold-blooded Eagles—Black Eagle!" the chief rider cried in terror.
Behind him, the riders were slain one by one, their bodies blocking the carriage’s path.
Black Eagle was a man with a fierce centipede scar on his face.
He ignored the surrounding chaos, laughing to himself:
"Lord Zhu, I hear your family’s ancestral Hundred Pace Sword Technique can reach the divine. Hand it over, and you’ll be spared."
The man in the carriage snorted coldly. "Black Eagle, are you not afraid I’ll have Tongquan City wipe out your mountain stronghold?"
Black Eagle sneered. "I hear you are gravely injured. Besides, in this wild, deserted place, not even the birds come—do you expect ghosts to rescue you?"
Whoosh!
A cold wind swept in, thick fog rising.