The Advent of a New Era

With victory in the War of Resistance, the whole nation rejoiced.

Lin Yan and the surviving Maoshan fellows returned to Maoshan, bearing wounds and glory all over their bodies.

The ancestral court held a solemn memorial ceremony to console the heroic spirits of those disciples who had sacrificed their lives for the country.

After this national calamity, three or four out of every ten Maoshan disciples were gone. Its vital energy had been gravely wounded, but its spine had not bent, and its Daoist Tradition still remained.

After recuperating on the mountain for a time, Lin Yan bade farewell to his teachers and elders, then set out back to Ren Family Town.

The closer one came to home, the more timid the heart became.

When he stood once more before the gates of the Public Mortuary, things were the same, yet the people had changed.

Qiusheng and Wencai heard the movement and ran out. When they saw Lin Yan, they froze at first, then were overjoyed.

"Ah Yan! Ah Yan's back!"

The two of them were already middle-aged men in their thirties, much more mature and steady than before. Their faces bore the marks of wind and frost, but divine light gathered in their eyes; clearly, their cultivation had also advanced, and they could already hold their own.

"Eldest Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother." Lin Yan smiled and went up to them.

"Good lad! You've grown taller! Sturdier too!" Qiusheng clapped Lin Yan hard on the shoulder, while Wencai's eyes reddened as he looked him up and down.

"Where's Master?" Lin Yan asked.

The two men's expressions dimmed, and they stepped aside.

Lin Yan walked into the Public Mortuary and saw, on a reclining chair in the courtyard, an old man with white hair and a face full of wrinkles,