We're Going to Mount Taixu

The young man stepped out of the place that had given him a renewed understanding of martial arts.

Behind them was the slowly closing door, the brass door knocker making a crisp sound when gently tapped.

Su Qing'an looked at the gray sky outside and then glanced at the beautiful girl beside him. His heart felt as clear and empty as after a rain in an empty mountain.

The teacher lived in an ancient water town in Jiangnan, a place imbued with the scent of ink and the atmosphere of books that seemed to emanate from the very marrow of his bones.

As he walked out of the gate, he was faced with a lake shore. The wind rippled the water, and a small boat was safely moored to a stake. It would sway occasionally with the current before settling back into place.

Ten years, twenty years. It's always the same, always the same.

Swaying and drifting, I finally came to rest at the very beginning.

Just like life, and also like an ancient tree.

The teacher said that this was the wooden boat he and his wife used to live here. Back then, the girl liked to stay in the boat and push Chen Junxuan's back so that he could row a little longer. She would hum a melodious tune and her eyes would be full of smiles.

Decades later, the scene of that boy and girl boating and playing is long gone.

The boy has grown into an old man, gradually approaching his twilight years.

The girl had long since faded into a fleeting memory in the misty rain of Jiangnan, dying on a rainy night.

But the boat was still there, old and worn. It watched over Chen Junxuan's home for a very long time, until the old man, who had fulfilled his long-cherished wish, returned covered in dust and filled with memories. Only then did it seem to have been relieved of some kind of mission.

Before letting Su Qing'an leave, Chen Junxuan made one more request.

Su Qing'an asked Fu Hua beside her in a low voice:

"Is it alright, Hua?"

Upon hearing this, Fu Hua silently stepped onto the boat that had been unoccupied for decades. She extended her hand to the young man and said with a smile:

"That's just a very simple request, Su Qing'an."

"Do you think I'm the kind of person who would refuse even a request like this?"

Su Qing'an hesitated for a moment, then gently grasped the girl's slender white fingertips before lightly leaping onto the wooden boat.

He loosened his grip somewhat embarrassedly, but the delicate touch still lingered, spreading little by little from where their skin had met, to his heart and stirring his blood.

Feeling his heart pounding, the boy took a deep breath and smiled at the person in front of him, saying:

Of course not.

"Hua has always been very gentle, both to me and to everyone else."

Upon hearing this, Fu Hua was lost in thought.

Over those five thousand years, she received many drastically different evaluations, including praise for her compassion and tireless efforts for the sake of all living beings.

However, the primary principle of the Taixu Sword Sect dictates that others' views on immortals cannot always remain objective.

Those who succumb to evil must be punished.

The very existence of this belief requires ruthless and cold judgment to uphold it.

Therefore, immortals appear aloof and unapproachable to mortals.

But assuming there truly are immortals in this world, how could they possibly understand human hearts?

Fu Hua is still human. Even though she is called a celestial being, in order to maintain this principle, or in the process of protecting others, her emotions are gradually being lost.

She had almost completely forgotten her original tenderness and sensibility, so being called cold and ruthless was an unavoidable price to pay.

But now, much further back in time, memories have long been fragmented, and countless Heart Seal have been scattered to every corner of Mount Taixu.

But now, as the immortal faced the young man before her, the way he looked at her, the words he spoke earnestly, and the warmth she felt when she instinctively reached out to touch him—all of these things somehow made her feel a clear sense of the misty rain of Jiangnan.

My heart seems to be beating more vividly than ever before.

Why?

Why am I in such a good mood?

My body felt so hot that the sound of blood circulating in my ears was deafening.

"Hua, why are your earlobes red?"

Su Qing'an's concern made Fu Hua, who maintained a calm and composed expression on the surface, feel a little flustered.

She quickly pretended to be calm and composed, squatted down, and casually tore off the rope that was tightly wrapped around the wooden stake.

After putting them all back on the shore, the girl continued to gaze at the wind-rippled lake water, avoiding his direct eye contact, and explained in a serious tone:

"Nothing."

"Don't worry about it."

Such rare words, tinged with a hint of embarrassment and annoyance, are all the more endearing.

Although Su Qing'an couldn't discern the specific emotion behind those words, he found them amusing. He sat obediently on the wooden boat, concealing his amusement, and said:

"Good."

After the rope was torn, the wooden boat gradually shifted from its original position.

They will ride this wooden boat to the end of the ancient town, disembark there, and then moor the boat to the side.

This was Chen Junxuan's request.

According to the old man, if you want to visit his house again, you can just take this wooden boat, which will be much easier to travel than those winding roads.

But Su Qing'an could understand the longing and reasons behind the old man's words.

They talked a lot these past few days, and the old man's casual remarks were filled with precious memories that would occasionally come flooding back at night.

Compared to the various fabricated stories about the Casell Academy told by Fu Hua, Chen Junxuan's words naturally seemed much more sincere.

The elderly do not need to lie.

In fact, if it weren't for not wanting to worry the old man, Su Qing'an wouldn't have liked to make up stories about things that didn't even exist.

This is perhaps Su Qing'an's most immature and cowardly aspect: he doesn't want people to worry, especially those he's close to.

Whether it was Murata Himeko or Chen Junxuan, the boy, who disliked lying, chose to respond with lies.

It's like a stubborn child trying to hide their wounds from their parents. In this child's mind, they don't want to worry others, so even if it means enduring a lot of pain, they will choose to continue to act tough.

Until the day when the wound bleeds profusely and can no longer be concealed, he will continue to smile and say that he is fine.

He's like an idiot.

Su Qing'an picked up the oar and started rowing the boat.

Rowing is physically demanding, but it's nothing to him.

"Many years ago, the teacher and his wife often used this boat for sightseeing, and of course, they also used it for some everyday tasks."

Fu Hua had recovered from her rare moment of emotional distress; this situation was now considered quite unbelievable for her.

But at this moment, she listened quietly to the boy's words and looked at the ancient bridge in the distance on the lake, paying no attention to these seemingly bizarre changes in her mood.

She said:

"Like buying groceries?"

Su Qing'an nodded:

"Yes, using this to buy groceries must have been quite convenient back then, right?"

"In a water town like this, boats are much more convenient than bicycles."

Fu Hua smiled but didn't say anything.

Every time she smiled, Su Qing'an would look at her with extra care. Her eyebrows and eyes were always extremely gentle when she smiled, and the original coldness was dispelled by the curve of her lips, turning into a unique beauty.

Su Qing'an continued:

"Hua, where do we go next?"

The girl sat in the swaying wooden boat, her pale fingertips creating ripples on the lake's surface. Her gaze drifted to the distant sky. After a moment's thought, she whispered:

"Let's go to Mount Taixu."

"Go to my house."

Su Qing'an looked at her somewhat dazed expression as she spoke, her mind heavy.

For her, does home even exist in this world anymore?

Even in their first meeting 55,000 years before the reboot, the girl named Fu Hua had already lost her home.

The girl said many, many things to herself during those days.

She said her family ran a martial arts school, and her father was originally a stubborn old man who was always very proud of the family's martial arts school.

When she was a child, that man would laugh and tell her that he would hand over the martial arts school to her to inherit in the future.

But later, her father, whose health was deteriorating, began to tell her that practicing martial arts was useless.

He said in a gentle voice that going to work or doing something else in the future would be better than practicing martial arts.

The girl at that time was of a mild temperament; she could only nod silently and didn't know how to respond to these words.

Later, her father sold the martial arts school, so she could no longer become its heir.

Many things are like this: you always feel that things will follow a predetermined pattern in the future, and you will become the person you initially imagined.

In the end, despite practicing martial arts for many years, the girl was unable to inherit the martial arts school.

Just as she was trying so hard to figure out what to do in the future, she suddenly lost her home.

Fifty-five thousand years later, Fu Hua still has no home.

The mountains were deserted, and the houses inside were so quiet that it seemed no one had ever lived there.

There was no one to greet us, and not even a group photo.

How can such a place be called home?

But at that moment, the boy whispered:

"Then let's go, I'll walk you home."

If two people go back together, they won't feel so lonely, right?

As he thought this, he gripped the oars tighter.

The girl's solitary past and the possibility that her future might remain the same made him want to do something.

Su Qing'an knew that his abilities were still insufficient, and practical factors always forced him to move involuntarily down an undesirable path.

But if possible.

He wanted to stay with her a little longer, much longer.

At least.

In the few remaining years of her life, Su Qing'an hoped that he could stay by her side until she was no longer a boy.

Regardless of the outcome, he will likely be happy with it.

But this world is never very kind, just like the things in the boy's room.

The Sacred God Sword given to him by Kambara Yuu, the brass pendant Leonid placed in his hand before his death, and the sword [Calming the Tempest] that exudes the fragrance of cherry blossoms.

Unbeknownst to her, Su Qing'an had witnessed so many regrets.

They were so numerous, like dust motes dancing in the sunlight, that they were countless at a glance.

Yes.

The world is never gentle, just as dusk will eventually fall.

But right now, Su Qing'an only wants to accompany her home.

The journey is long, and he hopes that there will be no wind or rain, and plenty of sunshine along the way.