Chapter Eighty-Nine: Waking from Wasted Years

Page 1 of 3 (First Update)

Amidst the mountains, five avian demon beasts had surrounded a lone figure, attacking fiercely. In the distant sky, a mass of black clouds hurtled forward with a ferocious momentum, like a battle flag sweeping swiftly across the heavens.

“Die!”

A deep and powerful shout erupted from within the clouds.

Suddenly, five palms emerged from the dark mass, descending like five great mountains to strike at the heads of the five bird-like demon beasts. The beasts, sensing danger, tried to dodge, only to find themselves crushed by an overwhelming force that pinned them in place, unable to avoid the attack.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Five thunderous explosions resounded in quick succession.

Blood sprayed, and the five demon beasts were slain on the spot, their skulls reduced to smashed flesh and bone.

“Go!”

A soft command came from within the clouds.

The person who had been encircled said nothing and sped away into the distance.

...

That day, at last, marked the return to Peach Blossom Immortal Mountain.

Yang Xiaoman, her back to the lush green hills behind her, waved her hand and entered through the mountain gate, leaving the two disciples guarding the entrance rather bewildered.

Once inside the sect, she headed straight for Unmoving Peak.

It was rare for Yang Xiaoman to leave the sect, and this time she had been gone for more than twenty years. Now, upon her return, she could not help but feel a surge of emotion, her face alight with joy as she took in the familiar scenery.

The very first thing she needed to do was to revive Master Cuotuo. Yang Xiaoman had intended to administer the medicine herself at first, in case the attempt to wake him failed—she didn’t want to give Fan Lanzhou and the others false hope, or risk any unforeseen consequences that could lead to turmoil.

But after careful thought, she decided instead to summon Fan Lanzhou, Linghu Jinjiu, and Fang Junmei to join her.

“Xiaoman, could it be that you’ve found the Earth Dragon’s Saliva?” Linghu Jinjiu, though rugged in appearance, was quite perceptive. From the hint of excitement in Yang Xiaoman’s eyes, he sensed good news.

Fang Junmei and Fan Lanzhou both looked at her with expectation.

By this time, more than seventy years had passed since the great sect competition. Fang Junmei had already reached the mid-stage of the Mortal Dust realm, his essence and spirit full, advancing steadily toward the late stage. He looked about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, handsome and upright.

He had received a Sword Spirit Stone and superior Essence Pills from the Celestial River Daoist, enjoying benefits on par with those once given to Gu Xijin—a cultivation speed many envied, truly first-rate.

Yang Xiaoman shook her head.

All three were visibly disappointed.

Yang Xiaoman smiled. “Though I didn’t find the Earth Dragon’s Saliva, I did acquire something else.”

“What could it be? Don’t tell me it’s the Spring of Life?” Linghu Jinjiu looked incredulous.

“It’s the medicine to cure Master,” Yang Xiaoman finally revealed, no longer keeping them guessing.

At her words, the three all started in surprise.

...

“Really?”

“Will it work?”

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“Where did you get it?”

After their initial shock, the three bombarded her with questions, their joy mixed with skepticism. After all, even Chunyu Qian had wracked his brains to no avail, yet Yang Xiaoman had solved the problem in a single journey?

Yang Xiaoman’s eyes twinkled mischievously. She didn’t answer right away, waiting for them to compose themselves before saying, “Forgive me for keeping you in suspense, but I’ll explain the medicine’s origins after Master awakens. It’ll save me from repeating myself. As for whether it works, I can’t guarantee anything until it’s administered. But the person who gave it to me is trustworthy.”

At this, the three nodded in understanding.

Their gazes flickered as they turned together to look at Fan Lanzhou.

Fan Lanzhou exchanged a few glances with Yang Xiaoman, sensing her sincerity. After a moment’s thought, he nodded firmly. “Let’s go. Give the medicine to Master.”

With that, he led the way.

The other three followed.

...

Once inside, the four immediately noticed that Master Cuotuo looked older than he had decades before, which only strengthened their resolve.

Without further ado, Yang Xiaoman took out the jade bottle given to her by Long Jinyi, poured out a yellow-and-white pill, and gently placed it in Master Cuotuo’s mouth.

Her movements were gentle and unhurried, betraying her own tension.

Fan Lanzhou and the others were equally anxious.

Once the pill entered Master Cuotuo’s mouth, the four lined up, eyes fixed on him, barely daring to breathe.

Time ticked by slowly.

After more than ten heartbeats, all four suddenly brightened; they sensed fluctuations in Master Cuotuo’s magical aura, which had lain dormant with his sleep, now stirring like ripples on a lake.

Moments later, as his fingers twitched, the Cuotuo Daoist, who had slumbered for three centuries, finally opened his eyes.

His eyes were those of an ordinary old man, not especially radiant, but clearer than before.

Perhaps because he had just awakened, his gaze was still clouded with confusion. He turned his head, saw the four lined up before him, and looked lost.

“Master, you’re finally awake.”

Fan Lanzhou rushed forward, dropping to his knees and grasping Master Cuotuo’s hand, overcome with emotion and tears.

He had been brought into the sect by Master Cuotuo himself, their bond like that of father and son, so his reaction was wholly sincere.

Fang Junmei and the others, on the other hand, had all joined after Master Cuotuo fell into his slumber. They barely knew him, so while they were happy, they could not match Fan Lanzhou’s emotional outpouring.

The three stood there, at a loss, filled only with deep sighs.

A look of reminiscence passed through Master Cuotuo’s eyes, as if recalling what had happened. His expression grew complicated, then quickly faded. He patted Fan Lanzhou’s shoulder. “Lanzhou, how long have I slept?”

His voice was old and weary, lacking the strength of former years.

“Almost three hundred years, Master,” Fan Lanzhou replied.

Master Cuotuo nodded in surprise.

He shifted slightly, and Fan Lanzhou quickly helped him sit up.

...

“You three, aren’t you going to greet Master?”

Seeing Linghu Jinjiu and the others frozen in place, Fan Lanzhou barked at them.

They snapped out of it.

Linghu Jinjiu stepped forward first, bowing with a grin. “Linghu Jinjiu greets Master! Master, now that you’re awake, do you have any Dao Embryo Pills on you? I’ve been stuck at the late Mortal Dust stage for decades—spare me a hundred or so, will you?”

At this, everyone burst out laughing, and the solemn mood was instantly dispelled.

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Even Master Cuotuo chuckled.

“Yang Xiaoman greets Master! Master, those from the other peaks and even the outer disciples always use magical treasures to bully me. If you have any good treasures hidden away, please hand a few over!” Yang Xiaoman came forward cheerfully to pay her respects.

Master Cuotuo laughed heartily, stroking his long beard. “Pretend I’m still asleep and let me rest a little longer.”

The old man was witty and good-humored; though it was his first time meeting Linghu Jinjiu and Yang Xiaoman, they were already joking together like old friends—a sure sign of kindred spirits.

Everyone laughed together.

After the laughter faded, all eyes turned to Fang Junmei.

Fang Junmei was not as playful as the others. Seeing all eyes on him, he was suddenly at a loss.

“What should I say at a time like this?” he blurted out instinctively.

This produced another round of laughter.

Fang Junmei, slightly embarrassed, smiled and stepped forward to pay his respects.

After nodding in satisfaction, Master Cuotuo turned to Fan Lanzhou. “Lanzhou, where did you find these three treasures for Unmoving Peak?”

His tone was full of teasing.

Fan Lanzhou smiled faintly. “It’s a long story, Master. I’ll tell you everything when we have time. Master, how do you feel now? Is there any abnormality within you? Who was it that harmed you?”

Hearing the serious question, Fang Junmei and the others became solemn.

Master Cuotuo focused, preparing to check his own condition, when a sudden realization struck him. His eyes flashed. “Where is Jinyi? Where is he?”

At this question, the four disciples’ faces grew grave, and a silence fell. None knew how to begin.

“What has happened? Lanzhou, tell me!” Master Cuotuo demanded.

Fan Lanzhou’s brows knitted. At last, he replied, “Senior Brother has already defected from the Peach Blossom Sword Sect.”

Master Cuotuo shuddered violently, the color draining from his face in an instant.

His relationship with Long Jinyi had surpassed even that of master and disciple, or father and son—he had pinned his hopes for the Dao upon him, searching for years before finding him. His betrayal was a devastating blow.

“No, Senior Brother didn’t betray us. The antidote I used was given to me by him,” Yang Xiaoman finally spoke up. “Master, he asked me to tell you that even if he’s no longer your disciple, he still carries your hopes with him. He will go far and see the wider world on your behalf.”

Everyone was stunned.

They realized then that there was much about Long Jinyi they still did not know.

“Xiaoman, what exactly happened?” Fan Lanzhou asked sharply, uncharacteristically stern.

Master Cuotuo, having regained some composure, also turned to Yang Xiaoman for an answer.