Chapter Twenty-Two: Parting on Bad Terms

Within the secret arts of the Celestial Palace, there seemed to be no concept of time. Luo Longyu was imprisoned within, unable to perceive the existence of anything, yet paradoxically, all these things were real. It was as if he himself did not exist—his hand could pass right through his own body. Everything around him, save for those demonic sigils, was both illusory and real, a phenomenon both eerie and contradictory.

Just as Luo Longyu was struggling to comprehend this, the great doors of the Celestial Palace suddenly swung open, and a surge of mysterious power kicked him out. Caught unawares, Luo Longyu tumbled out of the palace in utter disarray, landing hard in a most undignified manner.

“Damn it!” Luo Longyu couldn’t help but cry out, which immediately evoked a cascade of clear, silvery laughter. The laughter was wanton and unrestrained, making Luo Longyu bristle with annoyance. He turned his head and saw the one laughing was none other than the demon clan girl, Luo Mengxuan, who had previously played the fool only to reveal her strength later.

This time, however, Luo Longyu suppressed the fire in his heart. His earlier clash with the girl had taught him the true meaning of “there are always higher mountains and greater men.” Sometimes, in the face of absolute power, even if one’s rage could summon great strength, it was all for naught. It was like his battle with the two demon ancestors, where he was utterly helpless, or his encounter with Luo Mengxuan—she had shattered his second Slaughtering Heaven technique in a single move and suppressed him with casual ease. That was exactly how it felt: she had subdued him without even trying.

Standing beside Luo Mengxuan was an elderly man in a gray robe, hair already white, who regarded Luo Longyu with a gentle smile.

“Who exactly are you?” After a long silence, Luo Longyu couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Haha! We have quite the background. If I told you, it would scare you to death!” Perhaps emboldened by her backing, Luo Mengxuan was much less wary of Luo Longyu than before and spoke with unrestrained bravado.

“Xuanxuan, go brew two cups of Dreaming Tranquility tea and light some calming incense,” the old man interrupted her antics, his tone kindly.

Luo Mengxuan, cut off mid-sentence, wilted like a frostbitten eggplant. Reluctantly, she murmured, “Alright…” and left the room.

Luo Longyu took in his surroundings—a small, rustic wooden cottage filled with the charm of antiquity, reminiscent of the secluded abodes of sages in dramas. Several exquisite potted plants gave off a faint, refreshing fragrance. Near the door hung an old painting, its paper yellowed with age, depicting sun, moon, and stars above, and the four seas and five lakes below. Yet in the center, there was only a circle—its meaning obscure. Before him stood an offering table, incense burning eternally.

Outside the wooden house, lofty mountains and vast forests stretched as far as the eye could see. The mountain wind caressed his face, the sea of clouds surged below—a sight of breathtaking beauty.

The old man did not interrupt Luo Longyu, allowing him to look about like a detective.

Sensing the heaviness in the air, Luo Longyu finally let his gaze settle on the old man. Realizing his own impropriety, he coughed lightly and said, “Um… I still don’t know who you are or where this place is.”

“This is a secret realm, a vestige cleaved from the ancient wilderness. Human technology cannot detect this place, let alone find it.” The old man paused, then continued, “Rest assured, we mean you no harm. As for my name, well, it’s been so long that it hardly matters. Call me whatever you wish—let your heart decide.”

The old man’s words left Luo Longyu speechless. What did he mean, “call me whatever”? That was a little too casual.

After a moment’s thought, Luo Longyu said, “Earlier, Luo Mengxuan mentioned that Kong Yuxuan is her elder sister. I remember Kong Yuxuan is from the Eastern Emperor clan. Are you all descendants of the Eastern Emperor? As in, the legendary ancient god, Eastern Emperor Taiyi?”

The old man nodded. “Yes, we are his descendants. Although we are of his line, we have only inherited his will. The bloodline itself has long since faded—it’s been too many ages.”

Luo Longyu nodded in agreement. After all, in legend, the god Eastern Emperor Taiyi was shrouded in mystery. During the Han dynasty, he was revered as the supreme deity, the sole god of heaven and earth. Only after the Song dynasty, when the Jade Emperor supplanted him in popular worship, did belief in the Eastern Emperor decline.

“Grandfather, the tea is ready!” Luo Mengxuan’s voice called from outside the cottage.

“Come, let’s have some tea. It’s stifling standing in here,” the old man said with a smile, passing Luo Longyu by without the slightest air of superiority.

Luo Longyu curled his lip. There was something odd about the old man’s presence—every gesture seemed to take the initiative, making it impossible for Luo Longyu not to follow his lead.

As they walked, the old man continued, “In fact, humanity’s earliest beliefs all originated with the demon race. When the demon race rose, humanity had not yet awakened. But it’s too soon to speak of such things—the history is far too remote. Most human legends are filtered through your own understanding or manipulated for political ends. So the beliefs that have been passed down are just that—beliefs, not history. And in the eyes of your kind, beliefs can be changed at will, whenever convenient.”

“From ancient times to now, you have worshipped the great god Pangu, the Eastern Emperor, Fuxi and Nuwa, Xihe, Yan and Huang, the Jade Emperor, and now even foreign gods, such as God, Christ, Allah. Oh, and also the Buddha, Maitreya—so many. Your beliefs are so numerous that you have forgotten your origins.”

As they spoke, Luo Longyu followed the old man along a forested path in front of the cottage, arriving at a stone pavilion perched on a cliff. All around, the air was filled with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers; beneath their feet, a boundless sea of clouds surged and rolled. The sunlight poured down, illuminating a scene so breathtaking it made one’s heart expand with awe.

On the stone table sat a clay teapot, gently warmed over a small flame, the scent of tea curling upwards. Two cups were already poured, and beside them a delicate incense burner filled the air with calming fragrance, clearing Luo Longyu’s mind. Indeed, it was a setting befitting a recluse of legend.

After hearing the old man’s words, Luo Longyu felt a flicker of dissatisfaction and couldn’t help but retort, “With all due respect, Elder, I can’t agree with you. Ever since I was young, I’ve heard foreigners say our country has no faith, but that’s because they don’t understand the depth of our culture. True, compared to other nations, perhaps we don’t worship gods, because gods cannot help us. Even if they existed, that’s already history. History is to be remembered, but not to be lost in. We must survive—and to survive, we must move forward.”

“We may not truly worship gods; at most, we respect them. But what we truly venerate are our ancestors, our culture. Eastern Emperor, Jade Emperor—these I respect, but I’d sooner place my faith in Yan and Huang, in my own parents.” Luo Longyu gazed out at the clouds. “Elder, tell me—are the histories of gods any more real than this sea of clouds?”

“Ah! You think so too?” Luo Mengxuan, who was playing with a wildflower on a stone bench, suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Grandfather, see? I told you Eastern Emperor… well, never mind.” She trailed off as the old man fixed her with a steady gaze, shrinking back into her seat.

The old man took a sip of tea, set his cup down lightly, and said slowly, “Then what about the martyrs you speak of?”

“Those who died for the nation will always be our faith,” Luo Longyu replied without hesitation.

“But aren’t they part of history now?” the old man countered.

Luo Longyu smiled. “Elder, as I said, history is to be remembered. Only by remembering can we use history as a mirror and better ourselves.”

“And in a hundred years, or several centuries, a thousand years—will those martyrs still be your faith?” the old man asked, smiling at Luo Longyu.

At this, Luo Longyu fell silent. He couldn’t be sure; in truth, he simply didn’t know.

“You see, humanity remembers only the history it can see, or that which has been passed down. Humanity is a race skilled at forgetting history—or rather, at selectively forgetting. The history you remember is chosen for its utility to you,” the old man said unhurriedly.

Luo Longyu frowned, his voice low. “Elder, are you criticizing humanity?”

“What, in your understanding, counts as criticism?” the old man asked in return.

Luo Longyu no longer felt like admiring the view. “Forget it. I don’t want to argue over pointless things. In any case, you should remember this: humanity is in charge now.”

“You are not fit to inherit the Xuanyuan Corpse Path. You lack the great heart of the Xuanyuan clan.” The old man put down his teacup, though his smile remained unchanged, as if he wore a mask.

“If I could, I’d much rather be an ordinary person and live an ordinary life. Say I lack ambition if you will, say I lack drive, but that’s my true desire. I grew up in a tiny mountain village. Now you tell me I’m supposed to save the world? Isn’t that absurd?” Luo Longyu shrugged.

“If it were possible, your grandfather and your mother would not want you to become Corpse Path, either…”

“But I became Xuanyuan Corpse Path anyway,” Luo Longyu interrupted, rising and leaving the pavilion. He paused at the steps, turned, and said, “This tea is awful—so bitter.” With that, he walked off.

The old man sipped his tea in silence, making no move to stop him.

Meanwhile, Luo Mengxuan looked after Luo Longyu’s retreating figure, then at the old man, baffled. “What did that guy just say?”

“Oh, he said your tea tasted terrible,” the old man replied.

“What!” Luo Mengxuan exclaimed, her displeasure evident as she shouted after Luo Longyu, “You ignorant oaf! You call Dreaming Tranquility tea awful? Even your leaders don’t get to drink this!” After a moment, she looked at the old man and said, “Grandfather, aren’t you going to call him back? I carried that tea all the way here!”

“Don’t worry—he can’t leave the secret realm anyway,” the old man replied, completely at ease.