Xuanwei's Burden Lifted, Decades of Protecting the Dao Finally at Peace
The hustle and bustle of the bamboo courtyard faded away under the moonlight, leaving the alchemy room shrouded in deep darkness.
Xuanwei had not lit a lamp; he was immersed in the thick darkness of the night.
He quietly sat down against the cold wall, his eyes lightly closed. The smile of relief that had been on his lips when he watched Chen Du leave slowly faded away, finally turning into a very soft, very deep, long sigh that was pressed deep into his heart.
The evening breeze drifted through the window, silently carrying the scent of medicine throughout the room, and also stirring up his past that had been sealed away for sixteen years.
Time suddenly rewinds, returning to that cold winter night sixteen years ago.
Heavy snow blocked the mountain, the north wind howled, and a bone-chilling cold swept across the entire Qingfeng Mountain.
He opened the mountain gate at dawn, only to find someone holding a swaddled baby wrapped in a thin blanket in the snow in front of the steps. After saying just one sentence, he put the child on the ground.
The swaddling clothes were too thin to protect the baby from the harsh winter wind and snow, and inside lay a newborn infant.
Pressed under the blanket was a cool jade pendant, its patterns neat and its single character engraved with sharp, piercing strokes... Zhao.
The Zhao Clan of the Ling Dynasty were of royal blood.
He reached out and lifted the swaddling clothes, revealing an extremely frail appearance.
The baby was thin and weak, like a dying kitten, its little face frozen blue and stiff, its breath so faint it was almost imperceptible.
But one pair of eyes, amidst the deathly stillness and frailty, shone with an astonishing clarity, piercing through the swirling snow and the gloom of impending death.
With just that one sentence, Xuanwei understood all the causes and effects.
This child's life was destined to be fraught with hardship, not due to physical weakness and premature death, but rather a death trap set by human hands.
The secret blood of the imperial palace was secretly sent out of the nine palaces and abandoned outside a Daoist temple in the mountains. He understood the conspiracy and murderous intent hidden within better than anyone else.
The court is rife with undercurrents, and the power struggles within the royal family are deadly. Some want to completely eradicate this last remaining branch of the Zhao Clan family, but they have yet to find this last hiding place.
Once their whereabouts are exposed and the killing intent descends, the mere Qingfeng Temple will be utterly powerless to resist.
But it was an innocent life after all, and he couldn't bear to take it away. In the end, he reached out and carried the baby, who was drifting in the snow, back to the temple, took him as a disciple, and named him Li Xuan.
For decades afterward, he personally taught him poetry and literature, imparted to him the art of breathing exercises, and instructed him in the orthodox methods of Daoism, devoting all his knowledge and skills to his meticulous cultivation.
But from the very first day I adopted this child, the heavy worry in my heart never dissipated even a little.
He knew all too well the horror of this deadly situation.
He can protect him for a year, for ten years, for decades to live a peaceful and quiet life, but time is long and the future is endless. What about decades from now?
The murderous intent lurking in the shadows never dissipates; it only escalates.
The attacking cultivators will ascend from the Tenth Realm to the Eleventh Realm, and eventually reach the Twelfth Realm.
Qingfeng Temple has existed for 100,000 years, seemingly possessing a long and rich history. However, on the surface, the only person who could support the sect's fighting strength was Xuanwei.
He cultivated diligently for thousands of years, but barely managed to reach the Early Stage of the Twelfth Realm, which was already his limit.
If, on that day, the person lurking in the shadows ceases their probing and sends down top experts at the Middle Stage -Late Stages of the Twelfth Realm, he will be unable to stop them.
Even if they exhausted the 100,000-year heritage of Qingfeng Temple, shattered the foundation of the mountain gate, and risked the lives of the entire temple, they still could not stop the overwhelming killing intent.
Over the years, he has racked his brains and tried countless methods, all to give Li Xuan Xuanbo a way out.
He had considered sending him far away from this place, entrusting him to a powerful sect, hoping that the sect's vast resources could protect his remaining life.
However, in this Ling Dynasty realm, there are very few sects that dare to defy the undercurrents of the court and provoke the secret killing intent of the royal family.
Those reclusive giants are either far away, separated by thousands of miles, and unreachable; or they have high thresholds and are arrogant and domineering, and they don't care to get involved in worldly affairs and imperial grudges.
In his desperate search for a chance to survive, he carried the young Li Xuan on his back for three thousand miles, braving wind and frost, to a top-tier secluded mountain sect, where he humbly begged for refuge.
In the end, however, they never even stepped into the gate of the other side's main peak.
Only one gatekeeper disciple slowly emerged, delivering a single, cold, and indifferent sentence that extinguished all his hopes:
"Our sect will not interfere in, inquire about, or meddle in the private affairs of the Ling Dynasty."
That day, he stood outside the main gate of the sect, facing the biting mountain wind, for a whole day and night.
No one paid attention, no one heeded; all his humble prayers came to naught.
In the end, he could only turn away silently, carrying the innocent child on his back, and begin his journey home step by step.
He traveled a long and arduous road, through wind and snow, remaining silent the entire way.
Young Li Xuan nestled against his back, her voice soft and sweet as she asked, "Master, where are we going?"
He suppressed the bitterness and sorrow in his heart and replied softly: Let's go home.
He had nowhere else to go but home.
With his escape route cut off, he then considered the Tibetans.
He once planned to hide Li Xuan in the deepest, most secret underground palace of Qingfeng Temple, cutting off all sunlight and human traces, so that even the disciples who lived with him day and night would have no way of knowing.
Upon closer examination, however, it is ultimately just self-deception.
No matter how well hidden a place is, it will eventually be discovered and breached.
Even more tragically, being hidden for life means that this child can never cultivate himself, never enter the world, never show his face, and never have a life or future of his own.
An orphan, born with royal blood and inherently noble, was deprived of the light of day and forced to live a life of humiliation and cowardice underground.
What difference is there between living like this and being an ant trapped in a cage, or being a complete dead person?
For decades, I've suffered sleepless nights and endless worries.
Every time he went down the mountain to buy supplies, he would carefully investigate the movements in the imperial court and the turmoil in the martial arts world, fearing that there might be hidden dangers lurking beneath the surface.
Whenever a stranger, pilgrim, or mountain traveler came up the mountain, he would secretly lock onto them with his Divine Sense, never daring to relax his vigilance for even a moment.
Every time Li Xuan took even half a step out of the bamboo courtyard, he followed closely from afar, silently protecting him, never daring to let his guard down.
But deep down he always knew that all of this was nothing but self-deception and a sense of security.
The enemy lurks in the boundless darkness, hidden behind the mist; their origins are unknown, their strength is unknown, and their murderous intent is unpredictable.
He was in the open, on the defensive, proceeding cautiously at every step, yet he had no way of anticipating the crisis.
He knew even better that the true terror of the Ling Dynasty never lay with the emperors, generals, and officials in the court.
Those powerful figures who sit in the imperial court and rule the world are nothing more than puppets in the eyes of the top experts Lie Dormant in the shadows, not worth mentioning.
Those transcendent forces hidden from the world, ancient remnants of cultivation, and reclusive great masters, who have never even taken the vast Ling Dynasty seriously, how could they possibly fear a mere 100,000-year-old Qingfeng Temple?
Over the long years, he deduced the outcome countless times, and in the end, he only saw two dead ends.
Firstly, his identity was exposed, and murder was imminent. Li Xuan perished in an unknown corner, his life ending abruptly.
Secondly, they live in hiding their entire lives, never seeing the light of day, living a humble and timid life, never daring to raise their heads, trapped and dying in a small, confined place.
He had even planned that once Li Xuan grew up, he would tell him the whole truth and let him choose for himself: either fight to the death for a chance to survive, or live in anonymity and live a peaceful life.
He never dared to hope for a miracle.
But fate is unpredictable and can never be foreseen by human will.
He never imagined that this child, burdened with a deadly predicament since childhood, whose life was like a drifting duckweed, with no one to protect him or guide him, would single-handedly break free from this predicament against all odds.
Without anyone to teach him, he comprehended the Great Way on his own; without anyone to protect him, he forged his own path.
In just over a decade, he broke through barriers and ascended to the Twelfth Realm of cultivation, his combat power, Dao foundation, and stellar essence far surpassing his master, who had cultivated for hundreds of years.
Throughout Qingfeng Temple's 100,000-year history, countless abbots, prodigies, and unparalleled disciples, there has never been anyone like Li Xuan, whose progress is so terrifying, whose realm so vast, and whose Dao heart so resilient.
In the dark alchemy room, Xuanwei leaned against the cold wall and slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air that had been accumulating for decades.
The heavy gloom that had lingered between his brows for over a decade vanished completely at this moment.
It turns out that all his decades of torment, worry, and fear were ultimately unfounded.
His young apprentice never needed him to protect him with utmost care or risk his life.
This child has already single-handedly broken through countless deadly traps; he has single-handedly upheld his own destiny through his own path.
For the rest of his life, he will be able to traverse the great road, live a peaceful and expansive life, and enjoy boundless glory.