Tai Chi Hall.
The Azure Cloud Mountains.
Atop Coiling Dragon Cliff.
Amid the drifting clouds and mist, a forlorn, slender figure gradually came into view.
Lin Shisan carried a shoulder bag.
His gray robes fluttered in the wind as he waved into the depths of the mist, a restrained smile on his face.
"Shisan, if you're unhappy at Jade Maiden Peak, come back."
"Here in the Azure Cloud Mountains, with your senior sister, you'll always have a home."
In his daze, Lin Shisan could still hear the heavenly voice of Tiny Waist, Mu Ling, echoing in his ears.
Before his eyes rose the tears at the corners of hers, and her expression of aching reluctance to part.
This was already the tenth sunrise since Tiny Waist had killed Chen Yang with a single strike.
Zhou Xiaotian had pulled Lin Shisan back from death's door using Tie Dan's most treasured possession, the red essence mushroom he had kept for years.
But his injuries had been too severe, and Chen Yang's rain of punches had inflicted internal injuries as well.
Without a Dao seed to nourish it in the first place, Lin Shisan's dantian soon began to shrink.
Gradually, it showed signs of withering.
Aside from being a little stronger, he was now no different from an ordinary mortal.
Staying in the Azure Cloud Mountains was all but impossible.
Even though Zhou Xiaotian had vouched for him in his capacity as a steward, Lin Shisan still decided to leave the mountain.
He knew his condition better than anyone. In ten days, he had fallen from the third layer of body tempering to the first.
In a few more days, he would become a mortal through and through.
If he stayed in the Azure Cloud Mountains, his only possible fate was to be driven out.
More importantly, he feared holding Tiny Waist back.
Tiny Waist had said that if Lin Shisan could no longer cultivate, she would not only refuse to take a master, but cripple her own cultivation and live with him as an ordinary mortal couple.
He mulled it over again and again.
Determined not to burden anyone else, Lin Shisan used going to Jade Maiden Peak as an excuse to leave the Azure Cloud Mountains and depart from Tai Chi Hall for good.
And today was the day he left.
Senior Sister Mu, take care.
Lin Shisan spoke those words in his heart.
By the time he turned around, tears had blurred his eyes.
It was right here that he had met the grand elder last time.
It was right here that he had entered the immortal sect he had longed for.
He had become a servant disciple.
He had thought his path to immortality was beginning, that his dream of cultivation was about to become reality. Never had he imagined it would end like this.
Heaven's wheel had turned full circle, bringing him back here.
He was still the same person, but his circumstances were entirely different: once he had climbed the mountain to seek a master, and now he descended it to return home.
"Father, I'm sorry..."
Lin Shisan's nose stung.
The dark emotions he had forcibly suppressed gradually surged into his heart.
On this journey to the Azure Cloud Mountains, he had not only lost his position as a servant disciple, but his father's memorial tablet as well.
He wandered aimlessly until he reached a bluestone step and crouched down, hugging his knees and slowly curling into a ball.
He was so tired.
So tired that even his back had bent.
"Wuh..."
At last, Lin Shisan cried.
His sobs trembled like leaves drifting in the wind.
Helpless, he could only let the wind and rain buffet and scour him.
Now and then, a few butterflies and dragonflies danced past, flying over his head, onto his shoulder bag, and before his eyes.
Even the air grew still, silently echoing Lin Shisan's sorrow.
"Boss Han..."
Lin Shisan jolted to his feet.
Not far away stood Han Yansong, Tiny Waist's father.
A man he had little liking for, and even preferred to keep at arm's length.
In truth, there was another reason Lin Shisan had decided to leave the mountain.
Han Yansong had come to see him. Both his words and their implications urged him to leave Tiny Waist of his own accord, rather than hold back her bright future on the immortal path.
"This junior greets Boss Han."
Lin Shisan scratched his head out of habit.
Wiping away his tears, he walked over and bowed respectfully.
"Glug..."
Han Yansong took a great gulp of wine.
Then he tossed it to Lin Shisan.
"Have a mouthful. Wine can wash away ten thousand sorrows."
Lin Shisan did not stand on ceremony and caught the wine gourd.
He took a large swig too, its bite nearly forcing tears from his eyes.
"Thank you, Boss Han. I'll leave right away. I won't come back to disturb Ling'er's... Fairy Aunt Mu's immortal path."
Han Yansong fell silent for a moment, then opened his right hand. A small cauldron appeared, gleaming with black light.
It was the very Little Black Cauldron Lin Shisan had so desperately hoped to recover.
"Thank you, Boss."
Lin Shisan accepted the Little Black Cauldron with both hands.
He no longer felt quite so averse to Han Yansong.
With this Little Black Cauldron that could evolve all things, perhaps his withered tree could greet spring again.
"They only found this little cauldron. I don't know whether it's the one you lost. Take a look."
"As for your father's memorial tablet... they haven't found it. But don't worry. As long as it's still in the Azure Cloud Mountains, they'll find it."
Han Yansong's words reeked of wine.
Lin Shisan thanked him again, stood awkwardly for a while, then once more bade farewell and prepared to descend the mountain.
"If you leave, where should they send your father's memorial tablet if they find it?"
Lin Shisan halted midstep, his thoughts racing.
That was right. Once he left, he could end up at the ends of the earth.
If they really found his father's memorial tablet, where would they deliver it?
"There's a place you could try."
Han Yansong tossed the wine gourd to Lin Shisan again.
"Treat it as a temporary shelter. Once they find your father's memorial tablet, you can still leave the mountain."
"...I..."
An inexplicable warmth welled up in Lin Shisan's heart.
He looked once more at this heavily bearded, middle-aged man.
A man of hardship and weathered years, of wine and stories.
It seemed this taciturn drunkard was not quite so self-absorbed after all.
"You don't need to look at me like that."
Han Yansong took back the wine gourd and drank another swig.
"If there's one thing I hate, it's owing someone a favor."
"Without you, Ling'er wouldn't have returned to my side."
Before leaving, Han Yansong tossed Lin Shisan a Storage Ring as well.
He sank his spiritual sense into it and found a letter of introduction handwritten by Han Yansong, along with an access token.
There were also fifty Spirit Stones, a bottle of Body Tempering Liquid, three Body Tempering Pills, two pieces of dried beef for provisions, and a jar of liquor.
"Thank you, Boss."
Facing the spot where Han Yansong had disappeared, Lin Shisan respectfully kowtowed three times, his forehead striking the ground
with resounding thuds.
It was impossible not to feel grateful.
Although Han Yansong had swung a cudgel between a pair of lovebirds, from his perspective, his actions were understandable.
A father wanting a better future on the immortal path for his daughter was no inherent sin. There was nothing wrong with that.
He took out the map and studied it carefully.
Tightening his shoulder bag and mustering his strength, Lin Shisan strode down the mountain.
It was nearly dark when he finally reached the foot of a towering mountain, its majestic bulk piercing straight into the clouds.
This was the outer sect, certainly beyond anything Azure Cloud Mountain could compare with.
This was Deer Gate Mountain, the temporary shelter Han Yansong had found for him.
He did not yet know exactly what he would be doing, but most likely he would still be a servant.
Still, everything here was a level above what he had known before.
Although he remained a lowly little fish, he would at least bear the title of outer sect disciple.
It counted as a small leap through the Dragon Gate.
He looks like such an unkind man, yet he can do something this kind.
In his heart, Lin Shisan thanked Han Yansong again.
Then worry returned.
According to Han Yansong, Deer Gate Mountain imposed a curfew every night.
No one could leave, and no one could enter.
More importantly, as a servant disciple who had only just arrived to report in, he did not yet have any official status. Getting inside was even less likely.
Left with no choice, he found a nearby cave, lit a fire, and made do for the night.
Upon waking, he sat down to cultivate out of habit. Although the spiritual energy in his dantian had dwindled yet again, he still persisted.
What if a miracle happened?
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