A Guide to Self-Rescue in the Cultivation World - Chapter 26

A few streaks of dawn light filtered through the window lattice, casting faint, mottled spots on Zhou Suyao’s eyelids. Her consciousness slowly drifted upward. The delayed, intense pain in her left shoulder woke first, instantly shattering the confusion in her mind.

The pain made her snap her eyes open. The bloody scenes endlessly flashing in her dreams stole her breath for a moment until she focused on the simple furnishings of the old hut and finally let out a great sigh.

That’s right, she was already back.

This was her Chengxian Dao, her small hut, her human world.

Inside the bamboo hut, the air, carrying the scent of long-used cooking smoke and the bitterness of herbs, rushed into her nostrils. She rubbed her still-heavy head, struggling several times before finally managing to fully open her eyes.

“Creak”

The bamboo door was gently pushed open. Moist air mixed with the morning mist rushed in. Zhou Suyao looked over and saw Master Zhou Xuqing, hunched over, sneaking in with a rough medicinal bowl. His messy hair was more like a bird’s nest than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were alarmingly deep. Only when his tired eyes met Zhou Suyao’s did he manage to summon a flicker of energy.

“Oh, you’re awake? Good. Didn’t let those rats win.”

He placed the medicinal bowl on the bedside table, then turned to open the window for her, muttering, “Remember to gulp that down while it’s hot. Don’t waste the effort your Master put into tending the stove all night.”

It was the same familiar, off-kilter tone, yet it strangely soothed the trauma of her nightmares. She propped herself up with her uninjured right arm, slowly sitting up.

The medicinal bowl was hot, and the steam rising to her face carried a pungent bitterness.

“Master,” Zhou Suyao didn’t immediately drink the medicine. Her gaze rested on his tired eyes. Unable to hide her concern, she gently asked, “Did you… not sleep all night?”

Stared at and suddenly hearing a question so close to the heart, Master instantly felt awkward. He quickly turned his face away, waving his hand impatiently: “Mind your own business and drink your medicine! Finish it and get up to stretch your muscles and bones, or you’ll turn into salted fish!”

With that, he turned his back to her and slowly paced to the window, looking out at the tumbling sea of clouds, saying no more.

Silence fell in the bamboo hut, broken only by the silent diffusion of the medicinal steam. Zhou Suyao picked up the bowl and sipped slowly, her eyes still fixed on the old man before her.

“Master,” she slowly set down the empty bowl and spoke softly, “What exactly happened between you and Senior Ning Qinggui back then?“

The figure by the window froze abruptly.

Time seemed to stop for an instant. The bamboo hut was so quiet that she could almost hear the rustling of the bamboo leaves outside and Zhou Xuqing’s suddenly heavy breathing.

He remained facing away from her, like a silent stone statue.

After a long while, so long Zhou Suyao thought he wouldn’t answer, a hoarse, dry voice finally sounded slowly: “How much… do you know?”

“I saw an illusion…” she opened her mouth, her throat dry and itchy. “I saw  you holding onto her, and she called you, Zhou Xuqing, let go.”

The window frame made a faint scraping sound, the noise of Master’s fingernails digging into the rotting wood. He still didn’t turn around, but his back stiffened even more, as if he were enduring immense suffering.

“Dao Moxing… he said that if Ning Qinggui helped him succeed, when he ascended to the Spiritual Dao, he would use the power of the sect to open a channel to the Spiritual Dao for the Demon Clan.”

The surge of demonic resentment within Zhou Suyao instantly burned like a furious fire when she spoke the name “Dao Moxing.” However, to her surprise, this fury seemed confined to her spiritual energy, no longer affecting her consciousness and giving her a splitting headache.

She paused, reeling in her focus from the energy surge, and was about to continue answering Master’s question, but Master’s voice sharply interrupted her.

“A channel…”

Master’s voice was hoarse and low, as if he were recollecting something.

But his voice was also trembling, as if the memory was causing him unbearable pain.

“Heh… A channel…”

He suddenly spun around.

His old face, etched with fatigue, was now twisted by intense emotion. He practically roared, To hell with a channel.

“Dao Moxing! He never intended to keep his promise… He  only wanted to use this to help him ascend to the Spiritual Dao.”

His whole body was shaking. In his eyes was a sorrowful pain that Zhou Suyao had never witnessed before.

“At first, I believed it.” He said in a low voice, “When Senior Sister Qinggui told me about it, I sincerely wished her well. I knew she had paid too high a price to prove that the Demon Clan could also cultivate in the Spiritual Dao… In the sect, she might not have been the most naturally gifted, but she was definitely hardworking and dedicated.”

“Suyao,” he smiled faintly. “Would you like to hear your Master’s past?”

Zhou Suyao nodded.

“Dao Moxing once took four disciples. The Eldest Senior Brother, Bo Jiazi, was exceptionally talented; his spiritual cultivation was perhaps not even lower than Dao Moxing’s. I rarely saw him, and he seldom appeared in the sect. Senior Sister Qinggui once said that if there really were gods in the world, they would probably look like Eldest Senior Brother.”

Before he finished speaking, Zhou Suyao’s eyes widened sharply. She suddenly recalled the pair of golden pupils she had briefly seen when she turned her head in the illusion.

If Master was right, Dao Moxing had three other disciples: Xuan Yangming, Ning Qinggui, and him.

Then this person named Bo Jiazi must be  Zhou Shan Yuan.

Zhou Suyao coughed softly twice to conceal her shock. By the window, Master continued to pour out his story.

“Eldest Senior Brother, it’s strange, I seem to have forgotten what kind of food he liked, forgotten his preferences, even forgotten what he looked like.” Master’s voice was dry. “I only remember that he was a silent man. I always felt his identity wasn’t as simple as it seemed. However, despite his apparent coldness, he was the first to uncover Dao Moxing’s conspiracy.”

“He desperately tried to stop Dao Moxing, even going so far as to start a battle with him… The sight was something unseen for ten thousand years: Master and disciple turning against each other, fighting for three days and three nights without rest. Wherever they passed, life was extinguished.”

“And the outcome?” Zhou Suyao couldn’t help but ask.

“The outcome…?” Master laughed. “What good ending could there be? Eldest Senior Brother Bo Jiazi was pierced through the heart by Dao Moxing. Dao Moxing also suffered a backlash from his spiritual power, severely damaging his cultivation. The battle ended with both sides wounded.”

“As for Ning Qinggui? She had already died decades before that great battle. She was forced into dual cultivation with Dao Moxing, and I burst into the Clear Splendor Hall just as her flesh and bl00d were being refined into a pill, catching her final glimpse.”

The corner of Zhou Xuqing’s mouth seemed to curl up in the faintest arc, but he didn’t look like he was laughing; he looked like he was weeping in agony.

“She believed that old scoundrel Dao Moxing’s lies, thinking that helping him succeed would earn a channel for the Demon Clan to the Spiritual Dao. At that time, her body was already charred, leaving only her recognizable face. She said she wanted to find a way out for her people, a path where they could coexist with the Spiritual Dao and the Human Dao, instead of forever being ostracized and hunted down.”

“I even tried to persuade her, even tried to stop her with my own life.”

“But she said she was her clan’s only hope. Even with a one-in-ten-thousand chance, she had to try.”

Zhou Suyao’s heart was bitter. She suddenly recalled the words she heard in the illusion:

“I know what I’m doing, Zhou Xuqing, let go.”

“And you, Master?”

Zhou Suyao looked at her Master, at his aged face and eyes stained with the marks of time. What happened to you after that?

“Me?” Master let out a humorless laugh. “I couldn’t beat Dao Moxing and his group of brainwashed puppets. I couldn’t save the person I wanted to save, and I watched helplessly as Bo Jiazi was run through and his soul shattered. Naturally, my Dao heart was broken. I felt nothing mattered anymore.”

He spread his hands, adopting a careless demeanor. What great Dao? What ascension? What is right and wrong? Later, the Spiritual Dao cultivators surrounded and annihilated Dao Moxing. Xuan Yangming claimed to have been controlled by Dao Moxing’s puppets and was injured, so he was taken in by the Xinchong Sect. As for me, I went down the mountain and started traveling. When I stumbled upon this place, I found it peaceful and built the Chengxian Dao. Ascending? I’d rather walk the dog and tease my disciples.

He spoke lightly, yet Zhou Suyao still sensed the unextinguished grief underlying his tone.

“What about Ning Qinggui…” Zhou Suyao couldn’t help but ask, “Did she regret it?”

The figure of Zhou Xuqing by the window slightly stiffened. He slowly shook his head, his voice as soft as a sigh: “I don’t know. Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But in the end, she was burned beyond human recognition. She probably didn’t have time to feel any emotion.”

Silence fell in the bamboo hut after his words. The heavy past, like a mountain stone, weighed on both their hearts.

After a long while, Zhou Suyao finally spoke slowly: “I… I was given the power of the Demon Clan in the illusion.”

“I know,” Master said softly. “I knew when you came back to heal last time.”

“So, the reason I felt so impulsive and hot-headed recently was also because of this Demonic resentment?”

“Likely so.”

With that, silence fell again in the hut.

“But since I came back these past few days… I think ever since the day I returned from the Imperial City, I’ve felt the Demonic power in my body isn’t so frantic anymore.”

Zhou Suyao said in a low voice.

Hearing this, Master, who had been standing by the window, finally moved. He slowly walked to Zhou Suyao’s bedside and gently stroked the top of her head.

“Isn’t it easy to understand?” he said. “Before, the Demonic resentment in your body used your physical form to seek revenge against Xuan Yangming and Dao Moxing for their cruelties. But since the battle at the Imperial City, Xuan Yangming died. They no longer need to seek revenge. And that bowl of medicine I gave you, which forces out the cold toxin, naturally also forces their resentment out of your body.”

“Alright,” Master stretched, returning to his lazy demeanor: “All that old, stale history—why do you need to know so much?”

He walked to the door, paused, and looked back at Zhou Suyao: “You, rest well. Since the Underworld Trial, you haven’t properly rested. Your body is too depleted. As for the Demonic spiritual power in your body, now that they’ve taken their bl00d revenge, just accept that power. The past debts are not yours, and they shouldn’t become the shackles that confine you.”

With that, he waved his hand and shuffled out in his broken straw sandals. His figure quickly vanished amidst the dappled light and shadow outside the bamboo hut.

Only Zhou Suyao remained, alone in the bamboo hut.

She stared at the roof beams, her thoughts racing.

Was Xuan Yangming truly dead? Could a man with such deep obsession, ambition, and conspiracy truly be annihilated simply because Master destroyed one of his bones?

Ming Luo was determined to rebuild the Xinchong Sect, a path that was bound to be incredibly difficult.

And, she still hadn’t heard any news of the Qi brothers since she returned.

And Eldest Senior Brother…

Thinking of Zhou Shan Yuan, her thoughts became even more tangled and complicated. She recalled those golden pupils, yet she couldn’t be certain how much of the protection she received from her Eldest Senior Brother was genuine, and how much stemmed from an ulterior motive unknown to her.

The problems were like a tangled mess; she couldn’t find the root of any of them. All that was left was her unhealed body protesting. She slowly closed her eyes, forcing down all the complex questions.

Master was right. For her now, the most important thing was to heal.

A path must be walked one step at a time.

If one path is blocked, turn around and take another.

Her path, Zhou Suyao’s path, would never be a dead end.

She pulled the blanket closer, settling into a comfortable position. Outside the window, the bamboo leaves rustled, like music played in the forest, or perhaps like a gentle instruction echoing from a hundred years ago.

As for the other problems, she’d think about them after a good sleep.