Chapter 42: A Promise

"Then why didn't you make a move earlier?" Chen Yang asked with a smile.

Guo Xiaoshan shook his head and replied, "I may not be learned, but I know not to strike someone when they're down. Besides, though I wish to do something for that elder, I wouldn't throw my life away for him. His kindness toward me was never that deep."

"Righteous and loyal, yet knows when to advance or retreat, can distinguish between right and wrong, and maintains proper boundaries—not just playing dumb, but truly laying a foundation and beginning to cultivate a heart for the Way," Chen Yang silently nodded in approval.

"Still, he needs to be tested further." Chen Yang then smiled and said, "So, you stayed behind to bury him? That body was never truly his—it had been seized from another, nothing but a heap of decaying flesh by now. Moreover, the Hunyuan True Scripture you practice is the secret art of the Five Terraces Sect, not his personal inheritance. In truth, you owe him nothing."

The youth stood in silence for a long while, but in the end he insisted, "I must do something, at least."

His voice was low and somber, as if he had just learned that the technique he practiced belonged to Chen Yang. Disappointment welled up in his heart—the kind that comes to an orphan who, after finally finding someone who treats him well, discovers he was only ever a tool, and not even a tool that the other wanted to keep close for fear of getting his hands dirty.

"Enough! I’ll allow it, but as I said, what you practice now is the Five Terraces' secret art," Chen Yang chuckled.

"I will stop practicing it from now on," the youth replied.

Chen Yang shook his head, his smile slightly sinister. The boy shuddered, understanding what Chen Yang meant.

He nodded silently and said, "Could you give me one month? There are still some things I haven't finished, some debts of gratitude I haven't repaid. When that's done… I'll come to accept my fate."

Sensing the youth's quiet, resolute defiance, Chen Yang became even more interested. He nodded with a smile, said nothing more, and waved him off.

Guo Xiaoshan said no more either. He turned and sprinted away, heading first to the Immortal Abode at the bottom of Mirror Lake. There, he buried the remains of the Red Lotus's body—a tattered shell and decaying flesh. He then pried off bits of gold and silver that decorated the abode and stuffed them into his pockets.

He was about to leave, but after a moment's thought, he turned back and took one of the storage pouches left by Liu Yun Daoist and the others when they perished here.

Leaving the Immortal Abode, he ran day and night for seven or eight days until he reached Longxiang County, where he secretly sought out Zhao Xichen. When he found his four- or five-year-old little sister, dressed as a servant girl and waiting on a woman in her twenties, he saw her accidentally spill some hot tea and get slapped across the face.

The little girl, teary-eyed, dared not cry aloud. She only clutched the hem of her dress and stood with head bowed, enduring the woman's string of insults calling her a bastard.

Invisible, Guo Xiaoshan’s heart ached and his teeth clenched in anger. He wanted to reveal himself and slap the woman in return, but in the end, he forced himself to endure.

He waited until nightfall, when the little girl returned to her tiny, shabby room, and only then did he reveal himself.

"Xichen," he called softly.

The little girl was hiding under her blanket, sniffling. At the sound of her name, she trembled and mumbled, "I'm not crying."

But when she sat up and saw Guo Xiaoshan's familiar figure in the moonlight, she couldn’t hold back any longer and burst into sobs.

"Brother Guo, I want to go home."

Guo Xiaoshan’s heart twisted with pain, but he hurried to cover her mouth, whispering, "Don’t cry. I’ll take you away."

With that, he scooped her up and, with a few leaps, left the compound far behind.

When they were safely out of the Li household—where her father had married in—he finally set her down.

The little girl clung to his leg, crying for a long time before she could choke out between sobs, "Brother Guo, I want to go home. Please take me back."

He wanted to agree, but his own life was hanging by a thread—how could he care for her? His heart ached, and he didn’t know how to answer.

After a long silence, he stroked her head and said, "There’s something I must do first, so I can’t take you home just yet."

Though young, she had suffered much in the past year, traveling thousands of miles with Guo Xiaoshan, and had learned to read people’s moods. She no longer pleaded, but just held on to his leg, sobbing quietly.

"Do you remember the incantation Aunt Zhao taught you?" Guo Xiaoshan suddenly asked.

She nodded. "I do. I can recite it for you."

"No need. Just remember it well." He crouched down, took out Liu Yun Daoist’s storage pouch, and said, "This is a storage pouch. When you begin your cultivation, you’ll be able to draw many good things from it. Hide it well—never let anyone know, not even your father, understand?"

She was still very young. Though she’d survived great upheaval, her mind wasn’t mature enough to comprehend the incantation, let alone cultivate.

She nodded blankly. "I’ll listen to you. I won’t tell anyone, not even that bad father."

Guo Xiaoshan, though still with a simple, honest look, had grown wiser after laying his foundation. He understood much now, but his nature led him to hide his cleverness deep within.

He knew that in a year or two, as she matured and understood the incantation, she’d be able to cultivate on her own. This thought gave him some peace. He whispered, "Xichen, you must live well. When you grow up, no one will bully you again, do you understand?"

The little girl, clutching the storage pouch, pouted and was on the verge of tears again.

Guo Xiaoshan steeled his heart, ignored it, and picked her up. "Time to go back, or if someone finds out, there’ll be trouble."

She did cry, but she was sensible enough to nod through her tears.

After returning her, as he left, Guo Xiaoshan finally whispered, "If… I promise, I’ll come back for you."

"Alright," she replied, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Guo Xiaoshan’s heart ached unbearably. He ran all night without stop, covering over a thousand miles.

He crossed the mountains back to the village where he’d been raised. He stood for a while before the collapsed thatched hut that had been his home. Then, house by house, he thanked all who had ever shown him a kindness, leaving pieces of gold and silver from the Immortal Abode.

When all was done and he was ready to leave, he noticed the rusty iron bar still hanging at the village gate—a talisman against evil.

He looked at the village, leapt up, took down the iron bar, and wrapped one end with a strip torn from his hem, fashioning it to resemble a sword. Only then did he return once more to the mountains to find Chen Yang and fulfill his promise.

...

Facing the youth as he assumed the opening stance of the Transforming Dragon Sword Technique, Chen Yang chuckled without a word. He reached out, and a branch fell from an ancient tree.

Chen Yang also performed the Transforming Dragon Sword Technique. In just a few moments, the youth was beaten half to death, lying motionless on the ground.

"Your mind is a bit rigid, but that stubbornness is endearing. There's a spark of defiance—very good. You’ve passed."

He produced a Qianyuan Bone Renewal Pill and made the youth swallow it.

The next day, fully recovered, the youth was knocked down again.

This went on for thirty-six days. Under Chen Yang’s relentless training, all the flaws in his foundation were completely mended.