Time flew like an arrow. Days spent cultivating quietly in the mountains always passed quickly, and almost half a year slipped by in a blur.
He remembered returning to the mountain in summer, when Lion was still complaining about the heat before Marshal Kui took him away to learn techniques. It felt as though only a few days had passed, yet autumn was already in the air. The autumn wind scattered the cicadas' cries, and every rain brought a deeper chill.
In another blink, it was the nineteenth day of the ninth month, already three days past the Beginning of Winter.
Enjoying a peace he had not known in a long time, Cheng Xinzhan had begun to feel lazy. He knew he could not put it off any longer. It was time to go out and face his tribulation.
The ancients said that wherever the heart found peace was home. There was nothing false about those words. Wandering outside, dividing his spirit and forming incarnations, slaying demons, devising plans-these things often left his heart weary. Yet whenever he returned to the mountain, that weariness was swiftly washed away, leaving him at ease again.
Precisely because of this, Cheng Xinzhan had grown increasingly fond of staying in the mountains, unwilling to venture out.
He had originally decided to face his tribulation at the Winter Solstice, planning to return to Iron-Raft Mountain. The Yellow Sea sealed off its seaward approaches, and Laoshan sealed off the land, so safety was assured. The tribulation formations were already there and needed only slight alterations, so there was no need to prepare ahead of time. Leaving at the Beginning of Autumn would suffice. But when the day came, laziness softened his bones, and he did not want to leave. He postponed it until White Dew, then