Chapter Forty-Four: Taking Up the Engraving Knife

Li Ruoyu walked toward Li Zhiheng, gazing at him in silence. Li Zhiheng remained deeply absorbed in the object in his hands, unaware of Li Ruoyu’s return. Perhaps this devotion was why Li Zhiheng could bring even the smallest things to life with his carving.

After half an hour, Li Zhiheng finally sheathed his knife and stood up. Even after more than a decade, the moment he saw Li Ruoyu, he recognized him at once. Placing the object on the table, Li Zhiheng ran over, embraced Li Ruoyu tightly, and said, “It’s good that you’re home. It’s good that you’re home.”

A smile was on Li Zhiheng’s face, but his eyes were brimming with tears, making him look very much like a child on the verge of crying. He instinctively tried to pat Li Ruoyu’s head, only to realize that Li Ruoyu was no longer the little child he once was—now he stood much taller. Amid his comfort, there was a subtle sense of loss, and his already stooped back seemed even more hunched, bearing the mark of age.

At that moment, Shen Lan, having heard the commotion, also came out. When she saw Li Ruoyu, a gentle smile appeared on her face as she took his hand and led him into the house.

The next day, Li Ruoyu sat in the courtyard and picked up the carving knife that had lain untouched for so long. Gripping it, he felt as if his father’s warmth still lingered in the handle, seeping into his soul. Selecting a block of wood, he closed his eyes. Half an hour later, he began to carve, one stroke at a time, slow but precise.

One stroke, two, ten—when he reached forty, his control over the force faltered. The block remained just a block of wood, unable to become the phoenix rising from flames. Just as Li Zhiheng had once told him, a single careless cut could ruin everything.

Li Ruoyu had always understood—this craft, though now he was no longer ordinary, was not something that could be mastered overnight. It was a skill honed only through the passage of time.

Li Zhiheng stood quietly not far away, simply watching in silence.

This, perhaps, was a father’s love—not dazzling, yet it could illuminate an entire life; not loud, yet always quietly present. When you fall, he is there to lift you up without hesitation; when you achieve, he rejoices for you in silence.

When Li Ruoyu picked up the carving knife he once shunned, Li Zhiheng’s eyes glistened with relief, yet also with a trace of reluctance.

How could there be a fledgling that does not fly? Li Zhiheng had always known this truth. Still, the reluctance in his heart was hard to dispel.

When one block was ruined, Li Ruoyu would simply pick up another and start again, stroke by stroke. Yet, each time, mistakes would occur, and the wood would inevitably end up as firewood.

A day passed, then another. From sunrise to sunset, Li Ruoyu accompanied Li Zhiheng and Shen Lan, carving away in the glow of dusk. To Li Ruoyu, three meals a day were blissful and precious. At last, after half a month, the carving in his hands took shape—a young boy holding a wooden sword, hope shining in his eyes, looking just like Li Ruoyu in his youth.

He placed the wooden carving in Li Zhiheng’s palm and gripped his father’s hand tightly. Though he said nothing, from the reluctance in Li Zhiheng’s eyes, he understood that nothing more needed to be said. Li Zhiheng knew he was about to leave. The words from childhood—“No one knows a son like his father”—Li Ruoyu now truly understood.

Parting is always tinged with sorrow. As Li Ruoyu gradually walked away, his figure shrinking to a dot and finally vanishing from sight, Shen Lan could no longer hold back her tears. Li Zhiheng wrapped his left arm around her, and together, they returned to the house.

Time’s speed is always astonishing. On this day, Li Ruoyu was traveling back to the Everlasting Nine Sect. Suddenly, two figures appeared ahead—a youth of seventeen or eighteen, his face still bearing traces of innocence, but his eyes already deep and ruthless; and an elderly man in servant’s garb, attending respectfully behind him.

“Hand over your immortal treasure, boy,” the youth’s voice rang out, full of certainty.

That tone told Li Ruoyu the youth must have some means of knowing he carried a treasure the youth desired. Whether it was the Great Soul Banner, the World-Destroying Pearl, the Bone Sword, or the Grand Chun Sword, all were rare and priceless. Yet the young man’s certainty suggested he was after the Great Soul Banner. Since it concerned this artifact, Li Ruoyu was already prepared to eliminate the pair.

“Are you speaking of this treasure?” As he spoke, Li Ruoyu produced the Great Soul Banner. While the youth’s and old servant’s attention was fixed on it, Li Ruoyu suddenly unleashed his technique. Once again, a flurry of black snow fell, mingling with gravestones inscribed with ancient runes and wild grass swaying in the wind. The youth and the servant were instantly engulfed by the vision of Li Ruoyu’s Desolate Burial Domain. The youth’s face showed a trace of panic, though he remained composed. The old servant, however, immediately summoned a scroll, enveloping the youth within it.

“A Dao Diagram.”

This made Li Ruoyu wary—only someone at least of the Dao Construction stage could summon such a diagram. To grasp one’s will, to understand one’s path, and to manifest a Dao Diagram through sheer will—such a person, willingly serving as a servant, made Li Ruoyu all the more cautious. He could clearly see the old man was genuinely protecting the youth, which was truly alarming. At the Dao Construction stage, cultivators had their own unshakable will; for one to serve a youth so willingly, the youth’s identity must be extraordinary.

Li Ruoyu unleashed the Fist Across Ages, as if severing all ages, cutting off the life force of both youth and servant. The fist tore through the old servant’s Dao Diagram, and the residual force surged toward the pair. The power of this blow exceeded even Li Ruoyu’s expectations, astonishing the old servant as well. For a lower to strike up at a higher, it made the old servant feel a sense of foreboding.

“Young master, go!” The old servant acted with practiced efficiency. Sensing the danger, he immediately told the youth to flee. The youth obeyed without hesitation, summoning a beam of light and speeding into the distance. Seeing this, Li Ruoyu launched the Fist Across Ages once more toward the youth. Now, Li Ruoyu understood why the fist’s power had grown—when he last visited his hometown, he had stood outside the town, listening to its laughter and feeling a sense of timelessness. Unconsciously, he had incorporated that feeling into the fist, greatly increasing its might.

The old servant hurried to shield the youth, shifting from defense to offense, and sent the Dao Diagram hurtling toward Li Ruoyu’s chest.