Chapter 3: A Glimmer of Hope
"What a shame — that Daoist just had to say 'pray with sincerity for a son.' That single line dragged Lingbao Temple's image way down in my mind..."
Li Qingyun suppressed the urge to ask whether Lingbao Temple's "pray sincerely for a son" service was actually legitimate.
He reached into his robe and rummaged around for a moment, then produced a token. It was black and gold, roughly half the size of a palm, engraved with lines that resembled some kind of talisman script, and it radiated a faint, dignified aura.
Along the token's edge, a small line of text read: Maple Mountain Lingbao Temple — Lu.
"Senior Brother, please verify this token!"
Li Qingyun moved to hand the black-gold token to the young Daoist.
The young Daoist simply smiled and raised his palm slightly. The black-gold token transformed into a streak of light and flew into his hand.
He examined it carefully for a moment, then gave a nod — it was genuine, without a doubt.
Yet the corners of his mouth curled with a trace of disdain and mockery.
"The mountain gate has its standing order: whoever holds a Dao Affinity Token from Lingbao Temple may enter and become a disciple. However, Junior Brother, you are the ninth person this year to arrive bearing Uncle-Master Lu's Dao Affinity Token. It must have cost quite a sum, heh heh heh..."
When he mentioned the person behind the Dao Affinity Token, the young Daoist's tone noticeably cooled.
"Follow the mountain path to the summit. Someone will be there to receive you."
The young Daoist tossed the token back to Li Qingyun, then turned slightly to the side, gesturing that he was free to ascend.
His expression, however, remained thoroughly indifferent — he didn't even bother to ask Li Qingyun's name.
Li Qingyun took no offense. He smiled, tightened the bundle on his arm, and set off up the mountain.
He knew well enough how the black-gold token in his hand had come to be.
The day after that night of nine rounds that had cost him his Primal Yang Essence, the Marquis of Qinghe had gone out and paid a steep price to acquire this Dao Affinity Token bearing the mark of "Maple Mountain Lingbao Temple — Lu."
Possessing a Dao Affinity Token was equivalent to holding a transcendent status.
Li Qingyun had no orthodox cultivation aptitude to speak of, but with this status and a bit of shrewdness, he could still live out his remaining years in relative comfort.
Since the Marquis's manor was no longer a place he could stay, retreating to a mountain gate watched over by powerful cultivators would at least keep him safe from the harassment of demons and monsters — his life, at the very least, would be secure.
Dying of old age in a Daoist temple decades from now was not, all things considered, such a terrible life.
He had to acknowledge the kindness of his nominal father.
This was likely the last favor he would ever be able to draw from the Marquis's manor.
He regulated his breathing and climbed the stone steps at a measured pace.
Li Qingyun thought of Yuanbao, the black cat whose fate was still unknown, and of his own bleak prospects for cultivation — and he couldn't help feeling a pang of melancholy.
Then, for some reason, his mind drifted to the folk legends surrounding Maple Mountain and Lingbao Temple:
Over a hundred years ago, this place had no name and no temple. Then one day, out of nowhere, a Daoist descended from the sky, slew a monster lurking within the mountain's belly, and afterward built a hermitage here — which slowly grew into the sprawling Lingbao Temple it was today...
Li Qingyun had collected many folk tales of the extraordinary, yet he always felt that this world was shrouded in mystery, hazy and inscrutable — ordinary people could spend their entire lives without ever glimpsing its true nature.
"Joining Lingbao Temple... perhaps I'll finally be able to touch the true secrets of this world."
After climbing a stretch of stone steps, white mist billowed behind him, growing ever thicker, swallowing the scenery below.
Even the silhouettes of the young Daoist and Yin Xunshan had become indistinct. The drifting mountain fog was like a wall, dividing the mountain above and the world below into two entirely different realms.
Just then, from somewhere within the vast white mist, Yin Xunshan's voice drifted up from below — laced with mockery and contempt.
"This old servant, on behalf of My Lady and the Heir, wishes the Young Master enlightenment in the Dao and eternal life..."
Li Qingyun's footsteps faltered. He turned and gazed down into the fog-shrouded depths below, a cold glint flickering in his eyes.
Enlightenment in the Dao, hope for eternal life...
That old servant was being nakedly sarcastic.
"Are you truly so certain that I, Li Qingyun, can only die of old age in this temple, achieving nothing?"
"Heh. If I ever truly attain the Dao, the first sword I draw will be for..."
He gave a faint smile, shook his head, and once his breathing had steadied, continued his climb.
After being drained by Cui Wan'er's Predatory Cultivation, this body's vitality was utterly depleted — as frail as a man in his seventies or eighties. Even climbing a mountain was a struggle.
A pity that no one, aside from him, would ever bother to investigate the truth of it.
Wreathed in white mist, Li Qingyun walked as if moving through a painting.
Though sweat soaked his body and his breath came in heavy gasps, his heart grew ever more still and tranquil, as though the invisible Dao-resonance woven through the mountain path had washed over him and cleansed him.
When he was nearly at the top of the stone steps, something stirred in his heart, and he stopped to look back down.
Layer upon layer of mist obscured everything behind him, cutting off all sight of the mortal world — no clamor, no bustle remained.
Looking upward, golden radiance scattered the white fog, and a towering mountain gate came into view. One step through it, and he would enter an entirely different world.
A surge of emotion welled up within him. The weight that had long been pressing on his heart now demanded release.
He paused for a moment in quiet thought, then let the verses from his past life slip from his lips:
"Wind and snow have pressed upon me for years on end, yet I laugh — wind and snow are light as cotton thread. No one lends a hand to my soaring ambitions, so I shall climb to the mountain's peak by my own tread..."
It was the voice of his heart — and the declaration of his will.
In the end, he refused to give up. Even though he had long since been written off as a cultivation failure with no aptitude whatsoever.
"Though I, the Third Young Lord, have been effectively 'dethroned' and stripped of everything, with no hope of ever returning to the manor — when I truly think about it, am I not now free of a cage, having reclaimed the boundless freedom of heaven and earth?"
Everyone in the Marquis's manor had given up on him and distanced themselves.
In a few more years, the people of Qinghe County would surely forget all about their generous and charitable Third Young Lord.
A body from this world, a soul from another — he felt like a lone, wandering wild goose.
Solitary and adrift, with an uncertain future ahead.
"And yet — I still carry my soaring ambitions in my heart!"
The mountain path stretched on, steep and slick with moisture.
Li Qingyun clutched his bundle tightly against his arm, breathing hard, and pressed on upward.
As he stepped off the final stair, the ground leveled beneath his feet, and his eyes lit up.
The swirling white mist suddenly parted, revealing a magnificent and imposing mountain gate.
Three characters were inscribed above the entrance: Lingbao Temple.
The calligraphy was graceful and free-spirited, shimmering with golden light, and suffused with a certain Dao-resonance.
His gaze lingered on those golden characters for a moment.
A flicker of unease crossed his mind — those golden characters looked impressively "gilded," as if they were trying to express something.
Just as his thoughts were beginning to wander, two young Daoists in blue robes emerged from behind the towering gate, each carrying a horsetail whisk — one stout, one lean.
The moment their eyes met, warm smiles spread across the faces of both young Daoists, making them seem quite approachable.
At the same time, their gazes swept over Li Qingyun's bundle three or four times in a brief moment.
"Junior Brother, have you come bearing Uncle-Master Lu's Dao Affinity Token? Come, come — I am Qingfeng, and this is Mingyue. We are in charge of welcoming new arrivals!"
The plump, fair-skinned Daoist with squinting little eyes introduced himself as Qingfeng. He appeared quite young as well.
Li Qingyun just felt that his smile was far too worldly and slick — less like a cultivator of the Dao and more like a wealthy country landlord.
The other, lean Daoist named Mingyue had a certain air of otherworldly refinement at first glance, but as Li Qingyun studied the smile on Mingyue's gaunt face, he couldn't help but be reminded of the crafty old proprietor at the money house back in Qinghe County.
"Li Qingyun, greetings to both Senior Brothers. I am indeed fortunate to have received Uncle-Master Lu's Dao Affinity..."
Li Qingyun composed his expression, stepped forward, and bowed respectfully.