The lingering notes of the qin drifted on and on, scattering into the wind. Qi WuHuo lifted his eyes and saw—
The evening wind stirred the fields; the slanting moon hung among the trees.
Then he saw a young girl of about sixteen or seventeen step out of the sedan.
She wore a lotus crown, a gauzy purple robe, and red jade ornaments; phoenix pendants swayed as she walked.
Her bright eyes and slender wrists, her graceful, alluring steps—every movement held a beauty he had never seen before.
Her gaze shifted, sparkling brilliantly.
Qi WuHuo remained calm and composed. When he asked her name, the young girl answered honestly, saying she was called Qiong Yu. The two continued to be close friends, regarding each other as confidants. Several months passed this way.
Before the Imperial Examination, the scholars would go on excursions into the mountains and visit Taoist temples and Buddhist monasteries across the land, praying for good fortune in their exams and seeking an auspicious omen.
Qi WuHuo climbed with his friends to Dingyan Peak, the most famous mountain outside the Capital City. At its summit stood a Taoist temple dedicated to the legendary goddess.
They said the goddess was remarkably responsive to prayers; eight or nine out of every ten people who came to make a wish would see it granted.
Qi WuHuo took up three incense sticks and entered the main hall.
The goddess was enshrined in the hall, her face veiled by a thin layer of gauze. The hall itself was built so high that it was nearly impossible to make out her features with the naked eye. Qi WuHuo had no interest in seeing the face of this so-called goddess.
But just as he was about to offer incense, he glanced to one side—and his expression suddenly froze. The others followed his gaze and saw an attendant standing beside the goddess. She wore green robes, held a ruyi scepter, and had her hair tied in two hanging buns. Her smile was bright and sly.
Qi WuHuo stared fixedly at the green-robed attendant.
Her appearance and Spirit Charm were exactly the same as the one he saw every night!
Seeing Qi WuHuo pause, the Taoist priest beside him asked,
"Why have you not offered incense, young master? Why are you standing here?"
Qi WuHuo's expression did not change. He merely said,
"I do not yet know how this goddess is honored, so I have not offered incense."
The priest answered with a smile,
"Goddess Qiong Yu."
Qi WuHuo slowly nodded. His back straight, he placed the incense in the burner.
"Qiong Yu..."
That night, when he waited at their usual meeting place and saw his friend again, she had come to bid him farewell. She sighed, "We first met through our shared love of the qin, but now that you know who I am, it will be difficult for us to speak as equals."
"I was born into a noble household, but I died after someone framed me. Because I practiced orthodox cultivation when I was young, I did not perish completely. After cultivating for several years, my yin spirit could travel a hundred li, and that was how I met you."
Qi WuHuo furrowed his brow slightly. "Mountain God... divine spirit..."
"Can one truly attain immortality?"
Qiong Yu shook her head.
"It cannot be called immortality. Like a wandering spirit, I merely cling to life."
"With your talent, you will surely become famous throughout the land one day."
"This is a scroll of the Soul Nurturing Method I found long ago in the Cave of Rosy Clouds. I'll pass it on to you, as a token of our meeting."
The young girl reached out and touched Qi WuHuo between the brows.
An ineffable, mysterious resonance—something no words could describe—flowed into his brow. His mind wavered, then scattered.
It felt as if only an instant had passed before he opened his eyes, yet it was already the following morning. His clothes were soaked with dew. His old friend was nowhere to be seen. After lingering in sorrow for a long while, he turned and left.
Afterward, Qi WuHuo passed the Imperial Examination at his first attempt, earning the jinshi degree. He was appointed Secretary of the Imperial Library. But because of his upright, aloof nature, a year later he chose to take the Imperial Examination and was transferred to serve as County Lieutenant of Huainan.
Seven years later, when Qi WuHuo was twenty-five, he was promoted to Investigating Censor. At thirty-six, he returned to the capital and was promoted to Imperial Scribe, while also serving as Director of Imperial Edicts.
Three years later, he left the capital to take up the post of Governor of Tongzhou. He was later promoted to Governor-General of Zhongzhou. Through all the comings and goings of official life, he cultivated his composure even more. Because he had known hunger in his youth, he was especially kind to the common people. He built irrigation works, dug canals, reduced taxes in his jurisdiction, and spent most of his salary helping the people.
The people even had a stone stele carved to record his merits.
After his term ended, he was transferred once more, this time to serve as Military Governor of Bianzhou. At forty-six, he was summoned to the Imperial City and appointed Prefect of the Imperial City.
At that time, the realm was in turmoil. The human emperor's reign bore the era name Shenwu, and he was at war with the Demon Race. Generals of the Candle Dragon Tribe had broken through the frontier passes, using the art of Cloud Riding and Mist Driving. The military governor and great general had been killed, and someone had to be sent to restore order.
Qi WuHuo had never joined any faction, so this suicide mission naturally fell to him. Appointed Vice Censor-in-Chief, he was sent to take command of the army. After more than twenty years in the field, Qi WuHuo had come to know many heroes. In this campaign, the heroes fought valiantly and the brave soldiers gave their lives. After several years, they crushed the Demon Kingdom.
They pushed the frontier more than nine hundred li outward and built three cities, using the Three Powers Formation to hold the line against the Demon Race. On the former sacred mountain of the demons, the frontier people erected a stele in his honor.
After his triumphant return, his reputation grew ever greater. He was reassigned as Vice Minister of Rites, then, after accumulating further merit, promoted to Minister of Revenue and Grand Censor. Everyone called him a man who had risen from general to minister, and his fame reached its height—surpassing even the prime minister's.
The prime minister grew jealous. Amid the secret slander and rumors, Qi WuHuo was demoted and sent away to serve as a governor. Even then, resentment still smoldered in his heart. When he sat alone in his courtyard and played the qin, he would press down on the strings and let out a long sigh. In conversation, he seemed deeply aggrieved and furious that a treacherous minister held power.
Three years later, Qi WuHuo was summoned back to the capital once more.
His reputation for integrity was now at its peak. He was appointed Tong Zhongshu Menxia Pingzhangshi, wielding immense authority alongside the Director of the Secretariat and the Palace Attendant in governing the court. Yet when he returned to the capital this time, his spirits were low. He once lamented to a friend,
"When my reputation was at its height, the emperor suppressed me and supported the prime minister. Now that the prime minister has grown too powerful, he's summoned me back."
"He's brought in two other men as well, so that we can keep one another in check."
"Here in the imperial court, we're all nothing more than the emperor's pawns. Even trying to do something for the common people means scheming against one another."
"Come to think of it, when I was young, my family had no money to speak of. We lived at the foot of a small mountain, but in spring I could farm for myself, in summer I could climb the mountain to escape the heat and gather inspiration, and in autumn there were all kinds of wild fruit. It was far more carefree than now."
"To think that I can never return to those carefree days of youth, when I went up the mountain to gather firewood. It's like a dream. I wish I could go back to my boyhood and play the qin and talk with you beside the bamboo grove. I truly wish I could go back—but how could I ever return? How could I possibly go back..."
Qi WuHuo was too melancholy for words.
Several more years passed. Qi WuHuo had become almost the most renowned scholar in the land when rumors suddenly spread that he was conspiring with frontier generals to rebel. The day before, he had been a high-ranking minister who did not hurry when entering the palace and did not bow when attending court; the next, he was thrown into the Imperial Prison. Qi WuHuo remained cool and composed, no longer caring about such things.
When the cruel officials came in, carrying blades and chains, and kicked open the door, the greatest scholar in the land, clad in a plain robe, was calmly eating a bowl of rice porridge. His peaceful gaze swept over them, as light as drifting clouds and flowing water, and he cowed dozens of them.
Then he calmly let them bind him.
Because of his great achievements and fame throughout the land, he was not executed. He was merely exiled to the wastelands.
When the next emperor ascended the throne, he immediately cleared Qi WuHuo's name, summoned him to the capital, appointed him Director of the Secretariat, and conferred upon him the title of Duke of Qi. He also offered him the Grand Princess as a wife, but Qi WuHuo declined. He once said mildly to his disciple, who was also the emperor's eyes and ears,
"The old emperor is dying. He wants to leave the next emperor a sword."
"So he demoted me, then had his son clear my name? He used both favor and force, making me his sword. The emperor's arts amount to no more than that."
The young man asked, "The imperial authority is so exalted. Does it frighten you, sir?"
The old man's hair was white as snow, but his eyes remained deep and shadowed. He smiled faintly. "I only find it tiresome."
Ignoring the young man's barely concealed fear, he simply asked,
"You do not care for wealth or women, luxury or pleasure, or beautiful women."
"Can you see through the word 'fame'?"
The clever, handsome young man answered after a long while, "This student is still young. I have not yet traveled through the mortal world or seen all there is to see..."
"As for the word 'fame,' I'll see through it in this lifetime."
Qi WuHuo laughed heartily as he drank. Then, weary, he waved his sleeve and sent his disciple away.
The disciple hurried to the palace and reported everything Qi WuHuo had said. The emperor was always dignified, and no one knew the turbulent waves in the young emperor's heart. Later unofficial histories recorded the emperor's struggle that day and its outcome in just a few simple words.
The emperor was afraid.
He sent out the Imperial Guard.
When the armored Imperial Guards rushed into the luxurious estate, the old man was sitting peacefully inside, eyes closed. His presence still ran deep as the abyssal sea, and no one dared move.
But he had already breathed his last.
His whole life, he had been famous throughout the land; the treasures bestowed upon him by the imperial household were beyond counting, and his carriages, horses, fields, and estates were more than anyone could number.
The estate stood empty. On the wall, only a single line of verse remained.
Qi WuHuo was upright and resolute, rising from general to minister. He disliked poetry and left behind very little. This was the only verse he had left, a reflection on his years in the sea of officialdom.
"Seventy years, a tangled wreck."
The cruel official suddenly felt that those six characters were steeped in sorrow and regret.
Seventy years, a tangled wreck...
Outside the Capital City, Qi WuHuo's spirit emerged. He had practiced the Soul Nurturing Method, and so his spirit remained after his death. In a single step, he traveled a hundred li, taking in the splendor of the world. The room where he had once studied as a youth had fallen into ruin.
Qiong Yu, the Mountain God he had met in his youth, appeared. It seemed she knew that Qi WuHuo's time had come to an end, and sorrow glimmered faintly in her eyes. Qi WuHuo now had white hair and wrinkled skin, age spots scattered across his face, while Qiong Yu remained just as she had been decades ago, lovely and radiant as a celestial goddess.
"I've grown so old, and yet you're still just as you were."
Qi WuHuo sighed. Then he suddenly smiled and asked,
"Can one attain immortality in this world?"
This was their only meeting in decades, and he asked the same question as before.
But his feelings when he asked were entirely different.
The young girl answered, "A flower in a mirror, the moon in water—visible, but impossible to grasp."
The white-haired old man played his qin. Its notes stirred the mountain colors and summoned billowing clouds and seas of mist; he seemed almost to have entered the Dao. When the piece ended, the mountain peak remained unchanged.
He suddenly recalled his youth. He could never return to it now. What had he chased fame and fortune for throughout those seventy years? What, in the end, had it all been for? Qi WuHuo pressed down on the strings and murmured,
"Seventy years, a tangled wreck. From the eastern wall, I struck the western wall."
"And now, I gather it all up and return..."
"Still, the waters meet the sky in blue."
The music ended. The man was gone. He closed his eyes, and his soul dispersed.
Only the mountain remained, as the waters flowed on without end, just as they had before.
And so did the melancholy.
Suddenly, someone shoved his shoulder hard.
It was as if he had stepped off a cliff in a dream and plunged downward. Cold sweat covered him from head to toe.
Qi WuHuo shuddered and abruptly opened his eyes. Still dazed, he saw an old man pointing at him and laughing. "You were dreaming, fine—but why did you look like you were about to cry?"
Qi WuHuo stared blankly for a long while.
"Where is this? What... what time is it?"
The old man chuckled. "You don't even recognize your own home?"
"As for the time?"
He raised a hand and pointed toward the stove, where steam billowed. Then he answered,
"The sun is already at its zenith."
"The snow hasn't stopped falling."
"The Millet Dream Rice will take another quarter of an hour to finish cooking."
Before you continue