Unwilling to suffer the pain of parting, Xu Qingtong left a letter and a large pile of things behind and slipped away.
He had traveled from Mist Valley to Black Wind Pass and slain his enemy with his own hands in less than a day. Such speed, such efficiency-he would never even have dared imagine it before!
On the return journey, Xu Qingtong deliberately slowed his pace. It took him three days to reach Upper Yang Village.
Under cover of night, when no one was around, he buried his mother beside his father. Then he sat before his parents' graves, gazing blankly at Upper Yang Village below the mountain.
Xu Qingtong sat before his parents' graves for an entire night. That night, he thought about many things. His affairs in the mortal world were settled, and he no longer had any attachments. He could cultivate toward immortality with peace of mind.
But why am I cultivating toward immortality? For longevity? If a person has no attachments and no feelings, what good is longevity? Like a stone in the mountains, even if it witnesses the seas turn into mulberry fields, what meaning is there in it?
Suddenly, Xu Qingtong understood something. It was not that he had no attachments, but that he lacked the ability to protect those he cared about.
If I had possessed my current cultivation when Lu Mo came to my home, Father would never have been dragged into trouble by him. At Black Wind Pass, if I had possessed my current cultivation, not only would Mother have escaped humiliation, but Huang Yuanwai and the others would not have died either.
Besides revenge, there had been another reason he had cultivated so desperately: to grow stronger, to gain the ability to protect himself and those he cared about.