Chapter 276: The Youth Has Been Young No More
Chapter 276: The Youth Has Been Young No More
Chen Changsheng sighed quietly and asked, “Never thought about going back?”
Bai Ziqiu shook his head. “Even if I wasn’t sure I could still get out… what would it matter if I did?”
“To bear people’s pity for this old man?
I used to be Sword Mountain’s proud young talent. Now I’m nothing but a useless old man.”
Bai Ziqiu smiled bitterly. Poking the firepit, he added, “Doubt anyone even remembers me anymore.”
Chen Changsheng could offer no reply to that confession. After a long silence, he spoke: “I could take you out.”
Bai Ziqiu shook his head with a wistful smile. “No. It’s good to die here.”
Chen Changsheng murmured, “I can’t tell whether you’ve accepted your fate or not.”
Bai Ziqiu chuckled. “Who knows?”
He shifted the subject. “Earlier, you said you owed me a favor.”
“When I’m gone… could you find someone to inherit those three Sword Moves? That way, we’re even.”
“Why not do it yourself?”
“I’m afraid…”
Bai Ziqiu met Chen Changsheng’s eyes. “I won’t survive until spring. Staying means another day of suffering. I don’t want that.”
These words struck a painful chord in Chen Changsheng’s heart.
He sighed again, and agreed.
…
Under the bright morning sun, snow in the Demon Realm began to melt. The stark white was replaced by the brown of dead wood.
Qing Tianyou’s wounds had healed much. He’d sometimes take out his bamboo xiao and play a tune.
It’s worth noting that Bai Ziqiu loved Qing Tianyou’s compositions. To him, listening to the flute here felt like a precious gift.
So Qing Tianyou played often, offering some comfort to the dying old man.
The snow melted swiftly.
The forest grew even colder.
“Woo…”
The melancholic sound of the xiao echoed through the valley.
Standing tall, Qing Tianyou watched the vanishing snowflakes, recalling the lives lost in the great storm. It felt like all souls had found peace.
Vegetal Essence began returning. Under the sun, young trees sprouted from the thawing earth.
Sparks of green flickered, signs of spring’s approach.
By the fire, Bai Ziqiu warmed tea as usual, listening to Qing Tianyou’s flute.
Only this time, he sat holding his sword.
Eyes closed, he was exceptionally still.
After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes.
His face was pale. No white mist escaped his lips when he spoke.
He called out:
“Green Demon King.”
Upon the mountain peak, Qing Tianyou looked down toward the old man sitting beside the fire.
The old man then said, “Play a tune… to send me off.”
Qing Tianyou paused, bamboo xiao in hand, unsure how to react.
Chen Changsheng stepped out from behind him. Without looking down, he quietly added: “Please.”
Confusion filled Qing Tianyou’s voice. “Can’t you save him? With your power…”
Chen Changsheng replied softly, “To him… it’s freedom.”
Qing Tianyou fell silent. He glanced down at the old man sitting beside the fire below, then looked over the countless frostbitten corpses revealed by the melting snow.
He sighed gently and lifted the xiao to his lips.
“Woo…”
The lonely flute sound drifted down from the mountain peak.
Its melody filled the empty valley. A warm spring breeze seemed to carry it deep through the Demon Realm.
Beside the fire, Bai Ziqiu clutched a bloodstained sword.
He held it tight. Shutting his eyes, memories flooded his mind — his Master, his Senior Brothers, the demons he’d battled, the distant lands he had roamed, and the wonders of this world.
A faint, content smile spread across the wrinkled old face. Surrounded by that warmth, his consciousness gently faded.
Pop. Crackle.
The firewood snapped and popped.
The tea warming upon the embers had long boiled dry.
The old man beside the fire lay perfectly still. The last trace of Magical Power within his Dantian flowed into his limbs, limbs… then dissipated completely.
All signs of life within the old man quietly vanished.
Tingle…
A faint chime seemed to resonate.
Chen Changsheng raised the Taiqing Sword before him. With a soft sweep, it stirred dust and wind.
“Through trials of mercy, opens the great Gate of Sweet Dew. The true form of marvelous Dao, purple-gold aura of bliss. Responding freely to gatherings, infinite is my vow. Most sacred, most kind, most compassionate, most devoted. Manifesting across ten directions, Savior of all beings. Through eons beyond count, saving souls beyond measure…”
“Here it is: Treasure coins sink to earth, noble steeds rise to sky.
Summon the fire to burn them, stir the winds to scatter them clean. Like lotuses blossoming across the land, like white snow swirling free in the sky.
Ascend to the heavens, descend to the nether. All feeling beings ascend on the shore of salvation.”
“By the strength of the Dao, for this great cause, with a devoted heart… call upon the Flying Cloud Escort Celestial Worthy, powers inconceivable.”
“…Human life’s span unfolds like a dream gone. Once impermanence arrives, where does the Soul belong? The Soul then departs, going toward the Southern Palace. To honor the Uncreated Limitless Lord, that the departed may swiftly transcend.
May the enlightened kindly guide his path into repose.”
As the flute faded, Bai Ziqiu’s Mortal Body dissolved into shimmering motes of light. His Soul became a streak of pure cyan, soaring up toward Heaven.
Chen Changsheng summoned Sword Flight and ascended after it.
Guiding the Soul, he departed the Demon Realm and reached the barrier between worlds.
Chen Changsheng raised his hand. Flashes of Heavenly Dao’s Power gathered in his palm.
Suddenly, a ripple disturbed the stillness.
Heaven and Earth seemed to sense something… as if seeking a pact.
Chen Changsheng’s eyebrow lifted. “Why would I barter with you?”
Before Heaven and Earth could respond, he pressed his palm forcefully against the barrier.
Eight strands of Heaven and Earth’s Power scattered completely. They sliced a tiny rift upon the barrier barrier.
Bai Ziqiu’s Soul slipped through the gap, returning to the Mortal World… going to where it belonged.
The eight strands of Power evaporated like bubbles.
No sooner had the Soul passed through, the gap sealed itself in a blink.
Faintly, a sigh seemed to echo.
The scrutiny of Heaven and Earth faded away.
Chen Changsheng scanned the area, saw nothing amiss, and departed.
Standing on the mountain peak, Qing Tianyou looked up as a sliver of sword-light returned.
He asked, “Where did you go just now?”
“I sent him back… to where he should be.”
Chen Changsheng answered, then gracefully stepped off the peak and landed in the valley below, vanishing from sight.
Qing Tianyou was still puzzled. Descending the mountain, he came and sat by the firepit once more.
Man and demon sat silent, amid a heavy air.
Chen Changsheng’s gaze fell upon a sword lying abandoned near the fire — Bai Ziqiu’s sword. It hadn’t gone with him.
He reached out and picked it up. He studied it in his hand.
No name adorned the blade. Bai Ziqiu himself had never spoken its name.
Chen Changsheng gazed at it a long while. Finally, like Bai Ziqiu before him, his eyes turned to the flickering flames.
The Green Mountain lacks its greenness, the White Clouds lose their white hue. The youth has been young no more.