Leaving

Leaving

After an unknown amount of time, the zither sound gradually faded. Feng Yao collapsed onto the bed, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving violently. Every breath brought searing pain. Tempering his five organs and six entrails with the five tones felt like a blazing fire burning within him; even his fingertips trembled slightly from overexertion.

"Phew... with the Spirit Rings enhancing it, this effect really is..." Feng Yao wiped the sweat from his brow with a bitter smile, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. "Playing the zither is even more exhausting than forging iron."

Feng Yao stared at the mottled patterns on the ceiling, waiting for his breathing to settle. Then a thought suddenly crossed his mind. He slowly raised an arm, palm up, and the Innate Bagua Plate silently appeared. Its jade surface glowed softly beneath the candlelight, its mysterious patterns seeming to contain the ultimate principles of heaven and earth.

"Could it be..." Feng Yao murmured, gathering a wisp of Soul Power at his fingertips, "that it needs a Spirit Ring to activate it before it can be used?"

The instant his Soul Power touched the Bagua Plate, the cryptic patterns on its surface suddenly lit with a faint glow. Qian, Kun Hexagram, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen Hexagram, and Dui—the eight Hexagram Symbols flashed in turn, linking together into a perfect cycle. Feng Yao held his breath, clearly feeling the Soul Power within him being rapidly drained away like a rushing river, while the Bagua Plate's radiance grew ever more dazzling.

In an instant, the illusory image of the Bagua expanded to a range of three meters around him. Feng Yao's pupils contracted. The eight Hexagram Symbols flowed through the air as if alive, and the energy fluctuations of heaven and earth became incomparably clear at that moment. He stretched out both hands, staring in disbelief at the symbols circling him—at that instant, it felt as though the entire world lay within his perception and control.

"It can even..." Feng Yao muttered, and the true meaning of the Hexagram Symbols that his grandfather had taught him suddenly flashed through his mind. "Qian is heaven, Kun is earth, Zhen is thunder, Xun is wind, Kan is water, Li is fire, Gen is mountain, and Dui is marsh..."

With a thought, he tried directing his Soul Power toward the Li hexagram. At once, the scattered energy around him surged in like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, all transforming into blazing fire-element energy. The room's temperature abruptly soared, and faint distortions even rippled through the air. Fine beads of sweat emerged on Feng Yao's forehead, yet they could not conceal the excitement in his eyes.

Yet in the next second, an intense emptiness swept over him like a tide. The Bagua phantom instantly dispersed, and Feng Yao staggered back onto the bed. Panting heavily, he gave a bitter laugh. "Converting attributes according to the Hexagram Symbols is another bottomless pit that devours Soul Power. It won't be of much use for now. I should focus on my old companion first."

With that thought, Feng Yao slowly sat upright, closed his eyes, and entered meditation.

Five years passed in the blink of an eye, and before long, it was graduation season at Nuoding Academy.

Inside the academy hall, a beam of morning sunlight passed through the stained-glass windows and fell directly upon the center of the zither platform. Feng Yao wore a moon-white robe embroidered with subtle silver patterns, looking especially refined within the halo of light. Under his long, slender fingers, the "Fuxi" zither released its final harmonic. Two bright yellow century-old Spirit Rings slowly faded over the instrument. As the lingering notes drifted through the air, the entire hall fell silent before erupting into thunderous applause.

"As expected of Senior Feng," a female student whispered admiringly from below the stage, her eyes gleaming with adoration.

That praise made Tang San, standing in the crowd, unconsciously frown. Xiao Wu beside him was far more interested, craning her neck as she looked over. "The zither player sure dressed up pretty fancy today!"

Hearing Xiao Wu's mangled idiom, Tang San's faintly furrowed brows immediately relaxed, and a rare smile appeared on his otherwise ordinary face.

"Let's go, Xiao Wu," Tang San said softly, a gentle smile at the corner of his lips.

Xiao Wu pouted as she complained while walking, "Grandmaster really is something. So many advanced Spirit Master academies sent invitations, yet he insists on sending us to some Shrek Academy." She glanced at Feng Yao in the distance and lowered her voice. "I bet the zither player definitely won't go with you."

Tang San shook his head helplessly and lightly brushed his fingers across Twenty-Four Bridges Moonlight Night at his waist. As if performing a magic trick, he pulled out a fresh, juicy carrot. "Teacher must have his reasons for arranging it this way." As he spoke, he handed the carrot over.

"Hmph!" Xiao Wu sounded unwilling, but her eyes instantly lit up. She grabbed the carrot, took a bite, and said indistinctly, "Then what if the zither player doesn't want to go?"

"That would be his loss." Tang San's tone was calm, though his gaze drifted involuntarily toward Feng Yao.

As they spoke, the three happened to meet in the backstage corridor. Six years had left their marks on each of them. Feng Yao held his zither as his moon-white robes fluttered gently in the draft passing through the corridor, making him look like a noble young master who had stepped out of a painting.

Although Tang San was not as tall as Feng Yao, the lean, powerful muscles he had built through years of blacksmithing stretched his academy uniform taut. Xiao Wu, meanwhile, had grown from that little girl into a graceful young maiden. Her waist-length scorpion braid swayed lightly in the wind, lending her an even more lively air.

Seeing Tang San and Xiao Wu approaching, a trace of surprise flashed through Feng Yao's eyes. "I didn't expect Classmate Tang and Xiao Wu to attend the academy's graduation ceremony too."

Hearing Feng Yao's noticeably differentiated form of address, Tang San's brow creased almost imperceptibly. "Six years have passed. I brought Xiao Wu to have a look before leaving." His tone was indifferent, but his gaze unconsciously swept across the zither in Feng Yao's arms.

Feng Yao keenly sensed the hidden meaning in Tang San's words and asked probingly, "Classmate Tang, this is...?"

"Teacher sent me to invite you to Shrek Academy with us." Tang San was direct. There was neither sincerity in his invitation nor the courtesy it should have carried; instead, there was a faint but unmistakable reluctance in his tone.

Feng Yao was stunned for a moment before smiling in understanding. "Please thank Grandmaster for his kindness on my behalf, but..." He gently stroked the zither's body. "I already have my own arrangements regarding school."

Tang San's tense shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and Feng Yao even seemed slightly more agreeable to him. "I'll tell Teacher." He nodded, and a breeze stirred his robes as he turned away.

Xiao Wu bit into her carrot, her gaze moving back and forth between the two. Her pink scorpion braid swayed lightly as she tilted her head. She always felt there was some undercurrent between them that she could not understand, though she could not put her finger on it.

"Feng Yao, you're not going?" Xiao Wu blinked her big eyes, looking regretful. "I was hoping I could keep collecting protection fees from you in the future."

Feng Yao gave Tang San a meaningful glance, a faint smile lingering at his lips. He took a heavy brocade pouch from the exquisite Soul Tool at his waist and casually tossed it to Xiao Wu.

"We've known each other for a while. Consider this a small token for Sister Xiao Wu to buy snacks on the road." Feng Yao smiled airily. "Thank you for your 'care' over these years."

Xiao Wu caught the pouch and weighed it in her palm. Her face immediately broke into a grin. "You're still the generous one! Those noble brats are always so stingy whenever they pay protection fees."

Tang San looked as though he wanted to speak, then stopped, his expression slightly awkward. He could hardly prevent Feng Yao from giving her money, so he could only cough lightly. "All right, Xiao Wu. We've delivered the message. It's time for us to go."

"Farewell." Tang San cupped his hands toward Feng Yao, his tone stiff.

Feng Yao returned the gesture with an elegant bow. "May we meet again if fate permits." His wide sleeve traced a graceful arc through the morning light.

Tang San practically dragged Xiao Wu away at a quick pace, his departing figure looking somewhat hurried. Even as she was pulled along, Xiao Wu did not forget to turn back and wave the brocade pouch at Feng Yao. Her pink scorpion braid bounced happily beneath the sunlight.

Watching the two depart, Feng Yao lightly plucked a string, producing a clear harmonic. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a playful glint flashing in his eyes.

Watching Tang San's hurriedly retreating figure, Feng Yao could not help shaking his head inwardly. He suddenly understood why, in his previous life, despite possessing such astonishing talent for Hidden Weapons, Tang San had still fared so poorly in the Tang Sect—Tang San had likely devoted all his schemes and calculations to secretly learning ultimate techniques and studying Hidden Weapons.

Feng Yao lightly shook his head, tossing those thoughts aside before slowly returning to his dormitory. Pushing open the familiar wooden door, he found the empty room already cleaned spotless, with only the slanting sunlight outside the window casting its final rays upon the bed.

"It's time." He murmured as his fingers brushed the thin layer of dust gathered on the windowsill. Six years had ultimately been reduced to only a few simple pieces of luggage stored in his Soul Tool.

After gently closing the door, Feng Yao headed toward a teahouse in the city. As night fell over Nuoding City, its lamps had just begun to light up, and the familiar shop signs along the streets swayed softly in the evening breeze. Over six years, Shopkeeper Ning's teahouse had long become his most peaceful refuge in the city.

When he pushed open the carved wooden door to the teahouse's back courtyard, the familiar fragrance of tea washed over him. Shopkeeper Ning was intently polishing a set of celadon tea ware. Without even lifting his head, he asked, "You're leaving?"

Feng Yao ran his fingers over the tea table where he often sat, its wooden grain still bearing tea stains accumulated over the years. He looked at the deepening twilight beyond the window and said softly, "It's time to see a broader world."

Shopkeeper Ning slowly raised his head. His eyes, which had seen all the ways of the world, looked deeply at Feng Yao. "Which academy do you want to attend? If you need any help before you leave, just say the word."

"How about Heaven Dou Royal Academy?" Feng Yao said half-jokingly, lightly tapping the rim of his teacup with a finger.

Shopkeeper Ning paused, his teapot hanging in midair. He fell silent in thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "If you truly wish to go..." He filled two cups with clear tea, their fragrance curling between them. "All I need do is recommend you to the Sect Leader. Forget Heaven Dou Royal Academy—even Spirit Hall Academy would be no problem."

Feng Yao accepted the teacup and watched the tea leaves unfold in the amber-colored brew. "You know..." He took a light sip, smiling warmly. "I've never been one for restrictions. I'd better not trouble Sect Master Ning."

"So be it." Shopkeeper Ning raised his cup to clink against Feng Yao's, the cups producing a crisp sound. "Young people ought to go out and make their way in the world."

Shopkeeper Ning took a small sip of tea, then suddenly leaned down and retrieved an exquisite envelope from beneath the counter. At its gilded seal, a violet Seal Wax stamp shimmered with noble luster beneath the setting sun, its delicate harp emblem appearing and disappearing in the light.

"This is...?" Feng Yao was slightly startled.

"A letter of recommendation from Moon Xuan." A teasing smile flashed through Shopkeeper Ning's eyes as he pushed the envelope over. "When you first came to apply for work six years ago, I already knew that this little teahouse would never be able to keep you."

Feng Yao took the envelope. As his fingertips touched the fine patterns on the Seal Wax, he suddenly felt dazed. The past six years flickered before his eyes like a revolving lantern—from that ignorant, ragged boy clutching a zither to the Zither Master now renowned throughout Nuoding City.

Feng Yao understood that Shopkeeper Ning knew him very well. He might even have guessed where Feng Yao intended to go, perhaps even which academy he planned to attend.

"Uncle Ning..." Feng Yao's voice involuntarily tightened, and the fingers gripping the envelope clenched slightly.

"Go on." Shopkeeper Ning had already turned to greet newly arrived guests, leaving behind only an unrestrained silhouette. "Remember to give Madam Yuehua my regards."

The setting sun stretched their shadows long. For six years, Shopkeeper Ning had been both employer and something like a father and teacher to him. Though neither said much now, their reluctance to part needed no words.

As dusk deepened, Feng Yao walked out through Nuoding City's gates. He paused and looked back. The three words "Nuoding City" stood out sharply upon the city wall beneath the evening glow. His fingers unconsciously brushed the envelope inside his inner breast pocket.

Feng Yao rented a modest carriage and slowly traveled along the Official Road toward Heaven Dou City. The wheels rolled over gravel with a steady creak, mingling with the clip-clop of hooves and sounding particularly clear along the silent road. He reclined against the window, his slender fingers unconsciously tapping the "Fuxi" zither case as his gaze gradually drifted with the passing scenery beyond the carriage.

At dawn on the third day, the carriage was passing through an ancient oak forest. Feng Yao suddenly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing through them. From deep within the woods ahead came faint Soul Power fluctuations and the sounds of battle.

"Whoa—" The carriage abruptly stopped. Feng Yao lifted the curtain and saw that the driver had already abandoned the carriage and fled, his figure faintly visible within the morning mist.

Feng Yao frowned slightly, his figure darting toward the source of the sounds like a ghostly specter. Pushing aside the dense brush, he saw five or six black-clad figures surrounding and attacking a girl dressed in black in a forest clearing. The girl appeared to be around sixteen. Her fitted outfit outlined her graceful figure, but most striking were her sharp, catlike eyes. Though in a sorry state, her movements remained agile, and a shadowy black spirit cat phantom could vaguely be seen behind her.

"Zhuqing, stop wasting your strength." The leading woman in black sneered, her voice carrying a trace of mockery. "Come back with me obediently."

Feng Yao's pupils contracted. "Zhu Zhuqing? What a coincidence."

Without hesitation, he summoned "Fuxi," and two bright yellow Spirit Rings abruptly lit up. With a light pluck of the strings, a piercing soundwave exploded through the forest. Wherever the soundwave passed, the black-clad figures staggered while clutching their heads. Even Zhu Zhuyun, the woman leading them, paled and swayed on her feet.

The killing intent in Zhu Zhuqing's eyes surged as cold light gleamed from her claws. Feng Yao hurriedly shouted in a low voice, "Run! The dizziness won't last long!"

With that, his figure flashed, and he had already leaped onto the carriage he had arrived in. Zhu Zhuqing bit her lip, unwillingness flashing in her beautiful eyes, but she decisively turned and chased after Feng Yao in a few swift bounds.

"Hyah!" Feng Yao snapped the reins, and the carriage shot forward like an arrow released from its bow.