Chapter 113: One Pine, One Stone, Two or Three Thatched Huts

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The Infernal Turtle Spirit, furious upon spotting Yu Yunfan fleeing, Lin Yang under its gaze, and Xuanxin in the distance, raged once more. How could such insignificant ants dare deceive and mock it repeatedly?

“Roar! Roar!” Larger stones crashed down from the towering cliff above, cracks spreading once again. This space could no longer withstand the relentless assault and began to collapse utterly.

“Master, a true man knows what to pursue and what to avoid; I’ve been listening to your words all along,” Xuanxin said calmly, his face serene. Behind him, the great silver mirror, now cracked, shattered once more. But this time, Xuanxin let nature take its course, indifferent to the destruction.

The scene blurred before his eyes. Suddenly, Xuanxin felt tears welling up, lamenting his own weakness—wanting to cry but unable to shed a single tear. The tears evaporated before they could fall. In a daze, he saw the Xuanjing Sect again, the mountain peak where it stood.

In a quiet corner of that peak, simple and unadorned—one pine tree, one rock, two or three thatched cottages. And two figures: master and disciple.

...

The mountain was serene, with clear waters and lush greenery, birdsong and blooming flowers. At a humble corner on the peak of the Xuanjing Sect stood a few simple thatched huts.

“Master, I say, why are you so hopeless? No matter how capable I am, I can’t uphold our lineage alone. Our branch always ranks last in the sect year after year. Can we even get by like this?” Xuanxin leaned against a giant rock, chewing on a blade of grass as he spoke to his master, who sat in meditation on the rock. Nearby stood a towering pine tree, lush and vibrant.

“Calm your heart, Xuanxin. You must believe that great talents mature late,” the old Taoist priest said softly with his eyes closed.

“Master, you’re already so old. When will you finally succeed?” Xuanxin sighed deeply.

“Wait. Be patient, Xuanxin. You must understand that hardship comes before sweetness,” the old man continued meditating.

“Master, our rice jar is empty. We’ll go hungry tonight,” Xuanxin said, patting his flat stomach.

“Endure. You must learn to forsake sleep and food, Xuanxin,” the old Taoist remained unmoved.

“Master, the wine jar is empty too,” Xuanxin said, lifting his head slightly with a blade of grass in his mouth.

“What?!” The white-haired, white-bearded old priest leapt up from the rock in shock.

“Master, you just told me to be calm, to wait, to endure,” Xuanxin looked at his wine-loving master in disbelief.

“Endure my foot! No wine, and I’ll beat you!” the old priest cursed loudly.

“Master, you’re clearly hiding a few bottles of wine buried secretly under the peach tree. Don’t think I don’t know,” Xuanxin said calmly, pointing at the tree not far away.

“Bah! Ungrateful disciple! That is peach blossom wine I buried a hundred years ago! Dare touch it and I’ll fight you to the death!” The old priest’s anger flared as he threatened to strike Xuanxin.

“Yes, yes, but master, you really can’t keep going like this. Our branch is too poor. In a few days, I’ll descend the mountain, and I don’t even have a decent magical tool,” Xuanxin said.

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“You’re too polite to let me take gifts from other senior uncles. Otherwise, I could sell one or two magical tools and at least not go hungry,” Xuanxin grumbled.

“You brat! I raised you this long, and instead of being grateful, you start looking down on me! Take this!” The old priest finally lost patience and swung at Xuanxin.

“Don’t hit me! Master, don’t hit me! I’ll find some wine for you! Wait for me!” Xuanxin dodged the blows and ran off.

Another farewell before descending the mountain.

Morning sunlight bathed the peak, mist swirling like a dream.

“Here!” The old priest tossed a white-cloth-wrapped object to Xuanxin on the rock in front of the thatched hut.

“What’s this?” Xuanxin opened it with curiosity.

“Something good, of course,” the old priest said with a mysterious look.

“A mirror? Master, silver mirrors are just household items for young girls,” Xuanxin impatiently uncovered the cloth, revealing a silver mirror and looked disdainful.

“You brat! This is a magical tool! Do you know what a magical tool is? Our Xuanjing Sect is famous throughout the region for our mirror-based artifacts. How dare you despise it!” The old priest’s anger flared again.

“Master, our branch is so poor, you wouldn’t just trick me with a plain mirror, would you?” Xuanxin doubted.

“Ah! Brat, get lost! I shouldn’t meddle in your affairs. Better to die at the foot of the mountain!” The old priest roared in fury.

Xuanxin smiled softly at the angry white-haired old man on the rock, finding the scene amusing, then casually glanced toward the peach tree.

After a moment.

“Master,” Xuanxin called softly.

“What? Get lost!” The old priest opened his eyes irritably and resumed meditating.

“Thank you,” Xuanxin bowed his head.

“Hmph! At least you have some conscience, you little brat! Remember, once you descend the mountain, you must always take good care of yourself. The human heart is treacherous; don’t blindly trust others, and don’t eat food offered by strangers. A true man knows what to pursue and what to avoid. You must grasp the balance...”

“Hey, brat, you listening? Hey? Hey! Brat! You leave without a word!”

The nagging old priest opened his eyes to find no one there. The warm morning sun gently poured over his wrinkled, angry face.

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Halfway down the mountain, Xuanxin followed behind a group of junior brothers, gently stroking the ordinary silver mirror.

“Master, such a wine lover, yet he was willing to trade some of that peach blossom wine for such a trinket. What can I say about that?” Xuanxin murmured softly, his eyelids lowering.

“Hey, Xuanxin, we’re leaving,” a senior brother ahead called back.

“Coming!” Xuanxin carefully stowed away the silver mirror.

Master, I don’t know if you could take care of yourself without me. Well, I’ll talk to you properly when I return.

Hmm, this time, I’ll bring some wine as compensation. What kind of wine should I bring? Am I being too indulgent? Drinking isn’t good for health...

...

“Really, I’m just descending the mountain, and you still want to follow me,” Xuanxin muttered as spiritual energy surged through him. The silver mirror behind him cracked rapidly, radiating dazzling silver light. He whispered softly, “Master, I’ll bring the wine next time.”

Xuanxin smiled happily. A vision appeared before him: the last scene was the old Taoist quietly meditating beneath the pine tree on the giant rock, while Xuanxin dozed off leaning against the stone. The breeze blew gently, the sunlight shone quietly, and time passed peacefully.

“Oh yes, I still owe you a word from the last time I descended the mountain,” Xuanxin murmured, tilting his head back. His body began to split apart, silver light bursting from the cracks.

“Master, I’m leaving.”

A tremendous explosion erupted. Xuanxin shattered into fragments, stirring a great storm. Torrents of molten lava surged like a tsunami. The Infernal Beasts perished in the blast. The Infernal Turtle Spirit retreated a few steps, but this self-detonation caused it little harm. Instead, poor Lin Yang was buried beneath the waves of molten rock.

The Infernal Turtle Spirit roared furiously, fixating on the silver light that suddenly blasted from the shattered mirror. The blinding radiance was impossible to look at directly. The spirit howled, blood trickling from its eyes, unable to open them, venting its rage aimlessly.

Yu Yunfan ran forward without pause, sensing the shockwave behind him. His expression was complicated as he finally escaped into the passage at the moment of the explosion.

The space collapsed completely. Huge boulders fell, pounding the raging Infernal Turtle Spirit, which fled with fury into the molten lava. The area returned to calm; shattered rocks lay everywhere, the lava cooling into ruins.

Half an incense stick later.

A charcoal-blackened, withered hand suddenly thrust itself from the debris.