The Edict

When Qi WuHuo closed the door, the warmth outside fell silent, almost awkwardly so.

Though the door was low, it somehow gave the impression that it [blocked the view].

Outside this courtyard stood countless people, some local gentry, others wealthy households. They were also the best-informed people in the town. First, they had been startled by the gale that had swept over the entire town that day. Then, after those who had attended the feast at the Li family's home left, word that Qi WuHuo was on friendly terms with the Mountain God spread like wildfire.

They were shocked, unable to believe it.

Then came their unease at having looked down on this youth in the past, along with their hope of gaining some Immortal Destiny.

They brought along their daughters of marriageable age.

They dressed them in the finest silk, clothes fit for immortals.

They carried gifts worth more than the entire house of this impoverished fellow they hoped to befriend.

With bright, eager smiles plastered across their faces, they came over.

They wanted to forge a friendly connection.

Instead, they got one heck of a door slammed in their faces!

"Honestly, what an insolent wretch!"

"An arrogant fool!"

"He thinks that because he's struck up a little friendship with the Mountain God, he can hold his head in the clouds! He doesn't know his own place, and he even dares to give me the cold shoulder. He can die for all I care!"

The local gentry and wealthy households wore stiff, ugly expressions.

What standing did they have in this town? When had anyone ever treated them like that?

They thought they had already come with their noses lowered. Yet even when they saw this shabbily dressed youngster, he still acted as though his eyes were on top of his head. They couldn't help feeling indignant. They had already deigned to come here in person, bearing gifts and expressing a desire for friendship. Shouldn't that boy have been grateful beyond words, accepted the gifts, and made nice with them, forging connections?

Wouldn't that let him thrive in this town?

He could even establish himself in the prefectural city!

This was an excellent opportunity by anyone's reckoning. Who would have thought the boy would be so arrogant? Of course, what they called arrogance was simply that they weren't used to being rejected by some "mud-legged peasant," and so they were furious.

But now, no matter how angry they were, no matter how many resentful words they'd already spat out, they still had to put on a pleasant face, smile and exchange greetings with one another before finally leaving.

"Seems Immortal Master Qi is a little tired today."

"Haha, yes, yes. He did go through something unpleasant today, after all."

"Hm? Why's it so cold?"

"Yes, why did it suddenly get so cold?"

They shivered unconsciously and looked up. Somehow, the sky had grown overcast again, and the wind blew cold. Remembering the rumors about what had happened at the Li family's home that day, they all shuddered. After exchanging a few forced pleasantries, they took their leave.

They didn't see the old man who appeared at the mouth of the alley after they left.

He wore a simply patterned yet luxurious robe, his hair a crown of silver, and held a fine-grained wooden staff. Sensing the change, Elder Tao, the Earth God, had hurried over. He stroked his beard and gazed at the yin energy circling above the house, his expression turning grave. "This is... the yin energy I saw before..."

"So what I saw earlier wasn't the Evil Cultivator."

"It was the vengeful spirits driven by that Evil Cultivator."

Elder Tao stroked his beard and sighed.

"Such a pity. That heretical cultivator tempered them with secret arts, then used gold stained with the aura of the underworld's ghost officials as bait. That fooled the Underworld into thinking these souls had already been taken away and entered the cycle of reincarnation. These people's souls can no longer be saved..."

"Either the cultivator took them to raise as spirit soldiers."

"Or they'll be refined."

"Or they'll scatter into the world..."

Elder Tao had served as the Fortunate Earth Deity for a long time.

His eye was keen; one look was enough to guess the truth. Stroking his beard, he sighed. Though he felt compassion, he lacked the strength. Helping them would cost him, and to pay such a price just to guide ten wandering souls onward—

He didn't yet possess the heart or resolve to do that.

"A pity."

"If you'd met me as I was back then, things might have been different."

"No..."

"Even then, I would've been powerless."

The old man shook his head, gave a self-mocking laugh, and turned to leave.

Just then, he sensed a slight change and paused mid-step.

In the courtyard, Qi WuHuo called himself a Daoist for the first time.

The blue-robed youth's conduct, and the gentle compassion he had shown these wandering souls earlier—

It all came bursting forth at last because of those two solemn words: "this Daoist." For some reason, even though the Evil Cultivator had been the one to harm them, now that Qi WuHuo had said, "This Daoist gives his word," they felt an indescribable peace, as if the moment the youth spoke, he would certainly keep his promise.

Not even death could stop him.

The wandering spirits returned his salute.

Qi WuHuo put away the paper recording their regrets, then sat once more before the ancient zither. He lowered all ten fingers, and the music drifted gently through the air. But then he realized that his playing could only dispel the resentful, frenzied energy that had formed in them because of Tantai Xuan's evil arts. What was he supposed to do next?

His cultivation wasn't enough.

His knowledge was even more lacking.

The old man watched him with a cup of tea in hand and suddenly smiled. "Take on their karma, fulfill their last wishes—that is what it means to ferry them across."

"Excellent, excellent."

"But simply playing the zither isn't enough for you to fully deliver them, is it?"

Qi WuHuo said, "No..."

The old man stroked his beard regretfully. "When all's said and done, your cultivation is still a little too low."

"To bypass the Underworld and the netherworld entirely, and deliver more than ten souls with a single song."

"Your cultivation needs to rise just a little before you can do it."

Just a little?

Bypass the Underworld and the netherworld, and deliver souls?

For some reason, even though Qi WuHuo knew little about cultivation—

Even though he didn't know how difficult it was to bypass the Underworld and exercise the power to deliver souls—

He still felt that the word "little" needed some careful consideration here.

Its meaning probably wasn't quite the same as the one he knew.

He stood and cupped his hands. "Please, old man, teach me."

The old man stroked his beard and pondered, then smiled gently. "I don't mind helping you. What you did today showed the makings of my Dao."

"I'll help you this once."

"If you don't want to find yourself helpless when trouble comes again, then you'll have to devote yourself to cultivation."

"This isn't a transmission of the Dao, so I won't be breaking my word."

"Breaking my word? Transmitting the Dao? Ha! Neither, neither."

The old man joked.

Then he seemed to consider how best to help. Stroking his beard, he mused, "How about this?"

"As you play the zither, circulate your vital energy in your mouth and recite along with me."

Qi WuHuo was surprised. "I only have to recite?"

"Of course," the old man said with a smile.

When the old man saw he was ready, he began to recite four words.

Qi WuHuo's music faltered.

He lowered his eyes, playing the zither.

Then he began reciting after the old man—

Outside the alley, the Earth God, who had been about to leave, paused. Suddenly, he felt an indescribable pressure on his breath. For some reason, his heart grew wildly restless, and he couldn't calm down.

Something's changed. I must leave!

Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and strode away.

After several dozen paces, he felt his vital energy grow sluggish, faintly seeming to flow backward, as all things gathered together.

He clenched his teeth and pressed onward.

Ten more steps, and when Elder Tao lifted his foot, he could barely move.

To a cultivator like him, everything seemed perfectly normal: people walked along the road, chatting about trivial matters; birds flew overhead; cooking smoke curled into the air. Yet on another level, everything seemed to have stopped. The vital energy of the entire town—or at least this patch of heaven and earth—had ceased to flow, as if trapped in a picture, sealed inside amber.

Invisible, inaudible, unspeakable.

Movement and stillness.

Action and inaction.

Two utterly opposed Daoist auras seemed to overlap in that instant.

Then, a note from the zither suddenly rang out, tearing through the heavy stillness and breaking the deadlock.

TWANG!!!

Earth God Elder Tao whipped around.

He gasped for breath.

Heaven and earth fell silent.

The wind sighed through the plum branches.

The zither rang out, the mortal world remained as it was, and a young man's voice rang clear and gentle as he intoned—

"Supreme Edict."

This was the first time he had recited a Daoist scripture.

And these were the first words he spoke.

Just four words, spoken as lightly as the breeze.

Yet they surged with boundless might!

Elder Tao's pupils shrank abruptly, and his scalp prickled.

He stumbled backward, step by step.

His emotions roiled within him.

He could scarcely keep hold of his staff. It slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.