Chapter 55: I Have Returned
Chapter 55: I Have Returned
Twenty years later, in the thirty-seventh year of the joint reign, Qin Yuan was seventy years old.
Deep within the earth.
Qin Yuan was wholeheartedly cultivating the Dragon-Slaying Technique.
Within an endless ocean illusion.
Qin Yuan was locked in a deadly battle with a white dragon.
They fought from one end of the sea to the other.
Qin Yuan’s bones were broken, bare white bones exposed, and the blood he spat stained half his body crimson.
The white dragon had one of its horns snapped off—not broken but forcibly torn away. A bloody dragon tendon hung from its back, swinging wildly with each clash, its body covered in deep claw marks.
Yet, judging by their injuries, the white dragon was more grievously wounded than Qin Yuan.
Both man and dragon had bloodshot eyes, their breaths ragged and fierce.
They had long since forgotten how many years they had been fighting.
In earlier years, when Qin Yuan used the Overlord Blade, Five Beasts Killing Technique, and Golden Membrane, he was often defeated.
In recent years, after fully switching to the Dragon-Slaying Technique,
Qin Yuan sometimes doubted if he was still human, or rather a phoenix.
The claw marks on the white dragon were proof.
“Roar!”
Qin Yuan was shattered by the white dragon’s earth-shaking roar.
Immediately after, it reassembled its body in the distance, like a phoenix undergoing nirvana rebirth.
It lunged at the white dragon once again.
Another fierce and brutal melee ensued.
Relying on phoenix-like speed and regenerative power, Qin Yuan continuously left wounds on the white dragon’s body.
In the end, the white dragon’s Dao Platform and Qi Sea were utterly shattered by Qin Yuan.
The battle, which had lasted many years, finally came to an end.
Qin Yuan collapsed outright.
Uncle Qin was utterly exhausted.
After a long while, Qin Yuan rose and examined his body.
His Dao Platform, once the size of a small lake, had grown into a large lake.
The Golden Membrane had advanced from the Five Qi Returning to Origin level to beyond that level.
The Qi Sea had expanded from three coal mountains to the size of thirty coal mountains.
The Five Beasts Killing Technique had risen from the Mountain-Sea level to the Five Qi Returning to Origin level.
The Overlord Blade technique had similarly advanced to the Five Qi Returning to Origin level.
The Northern Darkness Rebirth Method had reached half-step Five Qi Returning to Origin.
The Dragon-Slaying Technique had reached half-step Mountain-Sea level (its power equivalent to other secret arts at half-step Five Qi Returning to Origin).
His magical power had increased from the equivalent of one hundred seventy years (counting from twenty-one years ago) to three hundred eighty years.
“It’s time to go back and see.”
With a single thought, Qin Yuan returned to the long-unseen surface.
Twenty years had passed.
The courtyard—well, it was surprisingly clean.
It seemed to have been cleaned not long ago.
His gaze fell on where the peach tree once stood; it had been replaced by two jujube trees.
Evidently, without the nourishment from the lingering corpse, the peach tree had vanished into the passage of time.
Stepping outside onto the street.
Not much had changed, only a touch more desolate.
Having restored his twenty-year-old appearance,
Qin Yuan’s sudden appearance attracted many curious eyes.
He had to temper his aura somewhat.
“Young man, are you married yet?”
An elderly woman with kind eyes tugged at Qin Yuan’s sleeve.
She looked familiar.
She seemed to be Aunt Pan, who used to enjoy matchmaking—well, now she was Grandma Pan.
“No.”
Qin Yuan replied cautiously.
“Grandma has a match for you, guaranteed a lifetime of wealth and security.”
A bright smile lit up Grandma Pan’s face.
“Who is it?”
“Lady Ximen, the great medicinal herb merchant.”
Grandma Pan leaned in and whispered.
Lady Ximen? Qin Yuan had no impression of her.
She must have moved here in the past twenty years.
“Pan, you’re spoiling the young ones again,” a scolding voice rang out.
Startled, Grandma Pan shrank back as if a mouse had met a cat.
Qin Yuan turned around.
It was Li Shoumin, his temples streaked with gray, one eye covered by an eye patch.
How had he lost that eye?
Li Shoumin seemed momentarily stunned upon seeing Qin Yuan, but as he approached and recognized him, he became somewhat excited.
“What is your relationship with Uncle Qin?”
“Uncle Qin?”
“My surname is Qin, given name Yuan.”
“Precisely my ancestor.”
Qin Yuan cupped his hands. “I am Qin Cao, courtesy name Mengde. May I ask who you are, sir?”
Chancellor Cao—no offense intended.
Qin Yuan added silently.
“Qin Cao?”
Li Shoumin casually stepped closer and suddenly reached out to grab Qin Yuan’s face.
But he caught nothing.
“You’re quite cautious, young fellow…” Qin Yuan feigned anger. “Sir, what is the meaning of this?”
“I thought you were an imposter. Over these years, many have claimed to be Uncle Qin’s descendants to inherit his estate,” Li Shoumin explained.
Qin Yuan imagined a crowd of dutiful descendants arriving at the door and nearly laughed aloud.
Li Shoumin’s expression turned serious. “Call me Uncle Li.”
“Why?”
“Your great-grandfather was my clan’s elder uncle.”
“Uncle Li,” Qin Yuan sighed helplessly.
They had become extended kin.
He wondered if other old friends were still around.
If they all were, what a scene it would be, tsk tsk...
“Say it again.”
Li Shoumin’s eyes rolled as he stared at Qin Yuan’s face.
Qin Yuan immediately understood his mischievous intent.
He pretended not to hear.
Li Shoumin, who had only mentioned it in passing, did not press further. Instead, he grabbed Qin Yuan’s wrist and strode toward the Qin residence.
Qin Yuan had intended to ask about the reason for Li Shoumin’s lost eye and about everyone’s recent circumstances.
But Li Shoumin told everything at once.
Li Shoumin’s eye was blinded by Lü Li, the son of the late Lü Yunfei.
Lü Li had been by Zheng Sanfa’s side more than twenty years ago.
Later, when Zheng Sanfa established the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Lü Li seized the opportunity to become a member.
Once, Li Shoumin had vented some grievances in a book.
When Lü Li found out, he arrested Li Shoumin, beat him nearly to death, and gouged out one of his eyes.
By committing increasingly heinous acts, Lü Li had risen to the position of Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard eight years ago, becoming the most successful among the descendants of several old friends.
Yang Huchan, head of the Yang Institute, was still around—truly the cleverest of all Qin Yuan’s acquaintances, having survived this long.
Shao Pingping had not sent any letters for years, likely immersed in cultivation.
Many colleagues from the Left History Institute had passed away; Qin Yuan barely remembered most of them.
Lin Dong was still alive, having become a rising force in the south, with a high chance of seizing the realm.
That shameless old Sun was also doing well, becoming a military governor commanding a province’s troops.
The wives of Minister Li, Lady Guo, Miao Tong, and others had passed away.
Counting only male old friends, only Lü Yunfei was truly gone.
Not too bad, all things considered.
Back at the home on West Third Alley,
Li Shoumin handed the keys to Qin Yuan.
He sighed in relief: “This house has been returned to your Qin family.”
He had carried a heavy burden over these years.
Many accused him of exhausting the family line.
“Thank you, Uncle Li.”
Qin Yuan cupped his hands.
Li Shoumin gave some advice, emphasizing that Qin Yuan keep his distance from Grandma Pan to avoid being tricked.
Qin Yuan readily agreed.
Before leaving, Li Shoumin said something that raised Qin Yuan’s blood pressure: “Don’t be as reckless as your grandfather.”
He had even considered treating his eye but decided against it.
In the days that followed,
News of Qin Yuan’s return spread quietly.
Several elders from the Left History Institute came to see him.
Some said Qin Yuan resembled Minister Li’s daughter-in-law, others said he looked like Lady Guo of the Guo State, and some claimed he resembled a famed courtesan.
Qin Yuan wanted to hit someone—he was clearly using his original face.
He did not argue.
People were merely curious; eventually, they lost interest.
After some time,
Indeed, no one paid attention any longer.
On the day of Qin Yuan’s memorial,
He and Li Shoumin went to Qin Yuan’s tomb outside the city—a burial site with no remains.
What is it like to pay respects to your own grave?
If there were a forum like Zhihu, Qin Yuan would surely ask.
“Uncle Qin, this year I’m no longer coming alone.”
Li Shoumin’s face was full of melancholy.
Over these twenty years, he had bid farewell to Lü Yunfei, his wife, his brother-in-law, several colleagues, a few literary friends, and some book enthusiasts...
After the memorial, Li Shoumin asked, “What are your plans moving forward?”
Plans?
The Left History Institute? No longer.
Thirty years there was enough.
The Heavenly Prison? The same.
The Heavenly Prosperity Pavilion?
The thought of that quiet place displeased Qin Yuan.
He had been lonely too long and had grown somewhat fond of the world’s clamor.
(End of chapter)