Qi WuHuo stared in a daze. He saw the old man smiling and reassuring him, then noticed the bloodstains on the old man's Daoist robe, the disheveled state he was in, and his pale face. His own arm had actually passed through the old man's chest. His expression changed drastically, his face going white as he cried, "Teacher! Teacher!"
The old man before him.
To Qi WuHuo, he was an elder as important as his parents.
The old man had watched over him all along, helping him grow, guiding his progress, leading him onto the path of the Dao, and teaching him to cultivate. Yet now he had been gravely injured because of Qi WuHuo. Qi WuHuo's heart shook, and his voice lost its usual composure. The old man comforted the young Daoist, speaking gently:
"It's all right. It's all right."
"Cough, cough, cough. Taiyi truly is worthy of being one of the highest gods. The power of [One] is astonishingly strong. Even using your body, WuHuo, he was able to break through my qi. Cough, cough, cough, cough..." As the old man spoke, he coughed up more blood. He reached out and tapped Qi WuHuo, making the young Daoist step back. His hand passed through the old man's body, leaving drops of scarlet behind.
Qi WuHuo's eyes reddened slightly.
"Cough, cough, cough. It's all right. It's all right."
The old man's face was deathly pale, but he looked at Qi WuHuo with affection.
His gaze passed calmly over the trial jade slip at the young Daoist's waist—the "trial" he had handed to Qi WuHuo right after their first meeting and the transmission of the Dao. Its qi remained, still deep and rich.
Then he looked at the writing that remained in Qi WuHuo's palm.
Relieved in his heart, yet