Volume One, Chapter 14: She Once Hesitated to Let Go Too

Jiu Ze had been trained by the Demon Queen since childhood and possessed strength at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage. Given the nature of the demon race, when he transformed into his true form, his power would surge temporarily...

There was no worry about him encountering danger while wandering the mortal world; at the very least, he could escape if threatened!

White Zhi comforted herself with these thoughts, resignedly following behind Chen Qing.

“Master, where are we going?”

“To visit an old friend of mine.”

As he spoke, they arrived before a dilapidated mountain gate.

The plaque above the gate, inscribed with the words “Autumn Leaf Sect,” was weathered and eroded by rain, deeply pitted and uneven. The ground was littered with dead branches and fallen leaves, almost obscuring the steps.

If it weren’t for the powerful aura of a protective formation, one would hardly know anyone resided here.

Reaching the mountaintop, there was a pavilion surrounded by a pond, encircled by numerous buildings. It was evident that many once lived here, but now the houses were overgrown with weeds and trees, teetering on the brink of collapse, utterly desolate.

“Old thing, have you come to see me off on my final journey?”

A hoarse, aged voice, tinged with laughter, came from the pavilion at the center.

Startled, White Zhi noticed an elderly man sitting cross-legged in the pavilion’s center. His hair and beard were pure white, his back hunched, clad in faded gray-white robes, sitting like a stone statue.

“You! Look at yourself and still call me old thing...” Chen Qing, still appearing youthful, stood face to face with the elder, both wearing expressions of faint sorrow.

“Do you really find it so hard to let go? I have here a supreme longevity pill that can extend life by a hundred years, during which you could...”

The elder smiled, shaking his head to interrupt him. “You know well, I cannot let go, and I never will.”

Chen Qing’s hand trembled slightly as he withdrew the pill.

“Enough... Zhi’er, come and greet your Uncle Cangyan.”

White Zhi was taken aback, quickly stepping forward to bow.

Uncle Cangyan was a renowned figure, as famous as Master Chen Qing himself. It was said he once dominated the world, wielding a long flute with carefree elegance, admired by countless female cultivators.

But centuries ago, he suddenly disappeared without a trace.

White Zhi hadn’t expected to meet the man in person, and judging by his condition, his time was short.

“So this is your young disciple?”

“Junior White Zhi pays respects to Uncle Cangyan.”

The elder chuckled softly, his sunken eyelids barely lifting, yet his eyes remained bright.

“Not bad, indeed a good child,” he said with a loving smile, struggling to raise his hand toward White Zhi. “Child, come here.”

White Zhi stepped forward two paces and stood before the elder.

Uncle Cangyan shakily grasped her hand.

A powerful yet gentle spiritual energy flowed into her body, and a warm sensation spread through her meridians.

“Uncle... Master?”

White Zhi looked at them both in confusion.

Chen Qing’s expression was somber, but he only whispered, “Zhi’er, calm your heart.”

Since Master spoke, White Zhi ceased all distractions, quietly feeling the potent spiritual energy swirl around her, merging and finally settling into her dantian, forming a small glowing orb nestled close yet not intrusive to her nascent soul.

“This child, not bad...”

Uncle Cangyan slowly withdrew his hand, the radiance on his forehead dimming.

“Child, this is all the cultivation I have left from my lifetime. Take it; perhaps it will help you someday... Remember, progress step by step.”

White Zhi lowered her gaze in gratitude, unsure what to say.

Such a great master, in his twilight years, chose to pass on his power to her...

“You resemble my wife when she was young...” The elder looked at her tenderly, his gaze distant as if seeing through White Zhi to another faraway place.

White Zhi was stunned.

Wife? She had never heard that this master had one.

“She was as beautiful and gentle as you when young. Alas, in a moment of rashness, I wounded her heart. But when I returned, she was already...”

His old eyes seemed dried up yet still betrayed profound sorrow.

“I always thought immortals had endless lifespans, that this life held much time, but I forgot the most important thing: to cherish the present. Now I regret my past, but I cannot return to those days...”

White Zhi’s brows furrowed as she glanced at Chen Qing.

She understood why her master had brought her here.

Yet, her master did not know that she, now having lived seven lifetimes as a mortal, had endured no less than these two elders before her.

Cherish the present?

She agreed wholeheartedly.

She would cherish it—but not for those who had harmed her through seven lifetimes.

Watching Uncle Cangyan’s form dissolve into the world with a smile, her heart ached deeply.

“Master...”

“Bringing you to meet Cangyan, do you understand my intention?”

Chen Qing’s brows held emotions White Zhi could not decipher, but above all, there was sorrow.

“Cangyan was too free-spirited in life. Once, over a trivial matter, he left in anger. But upon his return, the Autumn Leaf Sect had been slaughtered by demons.

He could only regret endlessly, yet it was already too late to reverse fate. So he ceased cultivation and waited for the end of his lifespan for centuries.”

Chen Qing folded his arms, gazing at the brilliant night sky with hollow, desolate eyes, as if truly an old man.

White Zhi stood silently behind him, biting her lip, afraid to speak.

“Zhi’er, you and Ling Qing are my only two disciples. You were once so close.

If you were to leave in anger over trivial matters of life, have you ever considered that if regret comes someday, either you or he might lose the path of cultivation and end up like Cangyan—broken in spirit, fading away?”

White Zhi lowered her head but forced a resigned smile.

She too had been unwilling to let go, stubbornly trying time and again to reconcile.

But what was the result?

Whether Yuan Ling Qing regretted it, she did not know—but she certainly never would.

“Master, please give me the token.”

Chen Qing’s brows tightened, looking at White Zhi in disbelief.

“You insist on this?”

“Yes.”

White Zhi’s resolute expression puzzled Chen Qing deeply.

After a long pause, he sighed.

“...Very well. After I bury Cangyan, I will accompany you to the Cloud Clear Sect.”

Everything settled, it was already the third morning.

Chen Qing had sat before the tombstone for two days and nights. Though his body showed no fatigue, faint weariness lingered in his brow.

“Zhi’er, don’t blame me for nagging, are you sure?”

White Zhi nodded.

“Even if it means enduring heavenly thunder, you won’t change your mind?”

“Yes.”

“Since you are so determined, I will face it with you. Three heavenly thunders are nothing. With me here, I will protect you fully.”

Watching Chen Qing’s retreating figure, White Zhi’s heart tightened painfully.

At the foot of Cloud Clear Sect’s mountain, the gate’s archway lay shattered on the ground, the bluestone steps broken and crumbled.

The master and disciple exchanged glances before leaping upward together.

The scene above was even more tragic—rubble scattered everywhere, houses in ruins—clearly the aftermath of a violent battle.

Yet, the air carried no scent of blood.

“What happened here in just a few days?”

After searching, they found the disciples gathered in front of the shattered Treasure Pavilion, their expressions furious as they shouted among themselves.

“What is going on?”

Seeing White Zhi return to the sect with an unfamiliar man, the disciples’ eyes flashed with mixed emotions.

“Mistress, you truly are our beloved teacher!”

Cheng Yang’s eyes reddened, full of angry reproach.

“Bringing back one troublemaker wasn’t enough, you even dared to parade another here so openly!”