A Guide to Self-Rescue in the Cultivation World - Chapter 24

A Fateful Visit

Several days later.

When Zhou Suyao was finally able to walk slowly around the courtyard with the support of Third Senior Brother  Zhou Zonglan the bamboo hut received another visitor.

It was Ming Luo.

She had recovered earlier than Zhou Suyao, but it was clear she had also sustained very severe injuries in that battle. Her face was still pale, and her figure was so slight that a gust of wind seemed capable of blowing her away.

The wide robes she wore were overly ill-fitting. Her once bright eyes seemed to be filled with deep sorrow and lingering exhaustion.

Her steps were slow and labored, making her look like a fragile porcelain doll.

“Suyao…” Ming Luo’s voice was very soft, carrying the weakness of someone just recovering from a serious illness.

“Ming Luo!” Zhou Suyao’s heart tightened. She wanted to rush forward, but Third Senior Brother, standing beside her, subtly pressed down on her shoulder. She paused for a moment but complied with her Senior Brother’s strength and stayed where she was.

Ming Luo quickly reached her side, her eyes resting on Zhou Suyao. Seeing her pale but relatively stable face, she finally managed a faint, forced smile.

“Seeing that you’re alright… that’s good.” She smiled softly, but the expression carried too much unspoken pain and gratitude.

The two sat down in the bamboo pavilion by the waterside corridor. Zhou Zonglan silently retreated to a short distance, standing with his sword held, watching Ming Luo with a gaze that was far from friendly.

After a moment of silence, Ming Luo lowered her head. Her fingers unconsciously twisted the corner of her robe, as if some unspeakable emotion was circling in her heart.

For a long time, the only sound was the rustling of bamboo leaves in the wind.

Finally, she looked up, meeting Zhou Suyao’s eyes directly. In those eyes, filled with sadness and fatigue, a small but unbreakably firm flame ignited deep within.

“Suyao…” Her voice was still quiet, but it carried a tone of decisive desperation. “I… I want to rebuild the Xinchong Sect.”

Zhou Suyao was momentarily taken aback.

Ming Luo carefully took out an object from her robes, an ancient, slightly chipped jade token. The jade was smooth and bore the character ‘Xin‘ (Faith).

The token was dim and covered in tiny cracks, looking as though it might shatter at any moment. But Ming Luo’s fingers, clutching it tightly, were white at the knuckles. Zhou Suyao understood that it was an unquestionable obsession.

This is the last Sect Master Token of the Xinchong Sec. Ming Luo’s fingertip gently traced the cracks on the token. Her voice was very, very light, yet unusually clear. The mountain gate was destroyed, our comrades perished, and the lineage is nearly extinct. That demon, Xuan Yangming, didn’t just destroy the Xinchong Sect; he destroyed its century-old foundation and its soul.”

She looked up, tears glistening in her eyes, but the inner flame burned even more intensely. She said firmly, “I won’t let the Xinchong Sect simply vanish. As long as I have a breath left, as long as this token remains… the Xinchong Sect… is still here…!”

Her gaze traveled past Zhou Suyao, toward the surging sea of clouds in the distance, as if penetrating time and space to see the ruined mountain gate and the scattered disciples.

“I know this is incredibly difficult, harder than ascending to heaven. Maybe all my life, I’ll only see a tiny spark. I can only change this small part… but some things need to be done.”

Ming Luo’s voice was soft, with a calmness that bordered on the tragic.

“Some things must be done. Not for past hatred, but… for what once existed, for what we once had.”

She turned back, looking deeply at Zhou Suyao, her eyes full of pleading and a desperate trust: “Suyao… are you willing to help me?”

The wind blew through the bamboo pavilion, ruffling the scattered strands of hair on Ming Luo’s forehead and swaying the tassel on the jade token, which carried a heavy history and a final hope. Her slight body trembled slightly in the wind, but her spine was held straight, like slender bamboo refusing to break in a storm.

Zhou Suyao looked at the injured but stubbornly resolute girl, determined to shoulder a fallen sect. A rush of complex emotions surged in her heart.

There was admiration, and also deep sympathy.

Yet, she still hesitated.

Her gaze inadvertently swept over Zhou Zonglan nearby, catching the subtle furrow in his brow. Zhou Suyao’s heart sank further.

Their concerns were the same.

The Chengxian Dao and the Xinchong Sect were, after all, two different sects. Zhou Suyao was first and foremost a disciple of the Chengxian Dao, Master’s final apprentice, and the Junior Sister of her three Senior Brothers. Her foundation, her inheritance, and her responsibilities were all inextricably linked to the sea of clouds and the sword tomb of the Chengxian Dao.

The Master’s Decision

Just as the atmosphere in the bamboo pavilion became delicate, a low, tired, yet undeniably authoritative voice slowly sounded, like a clear spring flowing through the mountains.

“Suyao, Miss Ming Luo.”

Zhou Shan Yuan had appeared silently on the waterside corridor. His large robes fluttered gently in the breeze. His pale face was nearly translucent in the sunlight, but his deep eyes rested calmly on them, and also on the broken jade token.

“Eldest Senior Brother,” Zhou Suyao nodded slightly to him.

Ming Luo also quickly rose, bowing respectfully: “Senior Zhou.”

Zhou Shan Yuan nodded slightly and slowly walked into the bamboo pavilion. His gaze first rested on Zhou Suyao’s face for a moment, as if gently assessing whether the circulation in her dantian had returned to its pre-battle state. Then, his eyes slowly settled on Ming Luo.

“To rebuild a mountain gate, to rekindle a spark, is a great act of courage. This ambition is commendable,” his voice was detached, with little emotion on his face. Zhou Suyao frowned slightly. In this state, the Eldest Senior Brother seemed to overlap with the aloof immortal figure from the illusion again.

He seemed unaware of her shift, continuing, “The inheritance of the Xinchong Sect has its own flow of destiny. Miss Ming Luo, to carry this inheritance is a destiny, and a heavy responsibility.”

Hearing this, tears welled up in Ming Luo’s eyes again, and she nodded vigorously.

“However,” Zhou Shan Yuan changed the subject, his gaze returning to Zhou Suyao, “Suyao.”

“You are a disciple of the Chengxian Dao. Your foundation is here. To assist a friend is a matter of personal loyalty, but to protect your sect is your duty.”

Zhou Suyao instantly understood Eldest Senior Brother’s meaning. While grateful for his intervention, she kept her expression neutral, bowed slightly, and stated frankly: “I understand, Master.” Then she turned to Ming Luo and said, “Ming Luo, I will do everything within my power and within the limits of the Chengxian Dao to provide you with assistance and support. As for the great responsibility of rebuilding the Xinchong Sect and preserving its tradition, that must fall to you.”

The words were firm. The tight knot in Zhou Zonglan’s brow, standing in the distance, subtly eased a fraction.

Ming Luo’s eyes held a momentary flicker of disappointment, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. She gripped the jade token tightly, her voice firm: “Suyao, Senior Zhou, I understand. The path of the Xinchong Sect must ultimately be walked by me. I only ask… that in these initial days, the Chengxian Dao… might offer Ming Luo some protection…”

Zhou Shan Yuan nodded slightly: “While the Chengxian Dao and the Xinchong Sect once had differences, as fellow cultivators of the Spiritual Dao, protecting those on the path is part of our obligation. You may temporarily reside in the guest house outside the main gate and heal your injuries peacefully. Once your condition is stable and you wish to proceed with the rebuilding, the Chengxian Dao will provide convenience where it is able.”

This promise gave Ming Luo a foothold while clearly defining the limits of the Chengxian Dao’s aid.

Zhou Suyao’s face remained composed, but inwardly, she was filled with immense respect for her Eldest Senior Brother.

“Thank you, Senior Zhou!” Ming Luo bowed deeply, tears slowly falling.

The Burden of Home

The atmosphere in the bamboo pavilion softened.

Ming Luo was too weak to stay long. Zhou Shan Yuan originally intended to have Zhou Zonglan escort her to the guest house, but he couldn’t resist Zhou Suyao’s plea to go out for some fresh air. He finally allowed Zhou Suyao to accompany her to the guest house.

“Eldest Senior Brother, I’ll return as soon as I drop Ming Luo off. I’ll stay near the mountain gate and won’t wander off.”

She looked at Zhou Shan Yuan, her tone carrying a hint of pleading. She felt terribly cooped up and wanted the chance to speak with Ming Luo alone.

Zhou Zonglan frowned deeply, the muscles in his sword-holding arm tensed, clearly disapproving.

Eldest Senior Brother, He looked at Zhou Shan Yuan, seeking his final decision.

Zhou Shan Yuan’s gaze rested on Zhou Suyao. He was silent for a moment, then finally nodded slightly, his voice almost too tranquil: “Go.”

Zhou Suyao sighed in relief, throwing a grateful glance at her Eldest Senior Brother. Then, she carefully supported Ming Luo, and they slowly walked along the winding bluestone path toward the guest house near the mountain gate.

The sea of clouds shrouded the mountainside in a chaotic, ethereal mist. The air was fresh and cool, carrying the chill of dew. Away from the oppressive atmosphere of the bamboo hut, Zhou Suyao instantly felt the stuffiness in her chest dissipate. She subtly glanced at Ming Luo’s pale profile and her tightly clasped hand holding the jade token, whispering: “Ming Luo… the path to rebuilding a sect is difficult. Are you truly certain about this?”

Ming Luo briefly paused her step but didn’t stop. Her voice was quiet and choked, yet still permeated with resolve: “I am certain… Suyao, do you know? In those dark days in the Imperial City, what kept me alive, besides the hatred for Xuan Yangming, was… the yearning for the smell of the plain noodles from the Xinchong Sect’s dining hall.”

Her voice briefly broke, then she continued, “The Xinchong Sect is not just a mountain gate. It’s my home. It’s where all my memories belong. Without it, my heart will be a huge space.”

Zhou Suyao felt a mixture of emotions. She naturally understood Ming Luo’s profound attachment to ‘home,’ because the Chengxian Dao was the same for her.

Only, now, she wasn’t so sure this was her ‘home’ anymore.

The mountain wind blew coolly, making the bamboo rustle continuously—a peaceful and serene scene, yet a heavy weight pressed on the hearts of the two walking through it.

The silence lasted a long time, broken only by the soft sound of their footsteps on the bamboo path.

“Ming Luo…” After a while, Zhou Suyao finally spoke, her voice very soft. “That day, when Xuan Yangming attacked the Xinchong Sect, what exactly… happened?”

She asked cautiously, knowing this was like tearing open a still-unhealed wound. But… she had a compelling reason to know the details.

What was the connection between Xuan Yangming, Eldest Senior Brother, and Master? And did all of this have some undeniable relationship with the Xinchong Sect and the Three-Path Meridian Flower?

Ming Luo’s steps paused almost imperceptibly. She lowered her head and did not immediately answer. Her eyelashes fluttered violently, her fingers clutching the jade token tightened further, and her shoulders began to twitch uncontrollably.

Beside her, Zhou Suyao’s heart clenched. She reached out and gently covered Ming Luo’s cool hand, patting it softly.

After a few more steps, Ming Luo slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears swirling within. Her lips struggled to part several times before finally releasing a single, broken sob.

“That day… the sky was very dark.”

The great protection array only held for less than half an hour it  It shattered like it was made of paper.

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