Chapter Thirty-Three: Two Choices

Walking along the overgrown path, he exhaled softly, as though entering a land of immortals. Towering trees rose and fell in succession, the layered forest stretching endlessly, bathed in moonlight that washed all things as if with pure holy water.

Within the woods, fledgling birds in their nests chirped softly.

Such beauty could easily intoxicate the soul, delight the eyes, and bewilder the heart.

Listening to his senior sister’s words, Xu Xing was left somewhat speechless. What sort of wild talk was this? Spirit roots could be eaten? Were spirit roots not a measure of one’s aptitude for cultivation? How could they be consumed?

Could it be that his senior sister was a monster, one who ate spirit roots?

Thinking carefully, the motto of the Beihai Academy was that with enough talent, all things could be claimed. It was not so unreasonable after all.

His senior sister gave no answer, simply leading him along the shadowed path, through unfamiliar foliage and grasses, the road to the Daoist temple stretching clear before them.

“Senior sister, what is your name?” he asked.

“I didn’t call you,” she replied.

“I mean, your name.”

“Zhou Lingya. You may call me Senior Sister Zhou.”

Along the way, Xu Xing’s words tumbled forth like a rushing river, never ceasing. At last, Zhou Lingya’s patience wore thin.

“Yes, I am a monster. And what of it? My heart is kinder than most. There are people in this world who are worse than beasts.”

The air fell silent. They walked for half an hour beneath the smothering darkness.

Although Xu Xing was talkative, Zhou Lingya carried herself with an elegant reserve—their contrast all the sharper for it.

Yet, as a newcomer to the academy, Xu Xing managed to glean some understanding from the few words Zhou Lingya reluctantly offered.

Only now did Xu Xing realize his own misfortune.

Each year, the academy welcomed three thousand new students. According to the rules, every senior had to guide a new arrival. The place where he’d encountered Ziyan was precisely where all seniors received the newcomers.

The pairing of students and seniors was mutual; thus, the stronger the guide, the better. Today happened to be the third-to-last day for entering Beihai Academy.

By daylight, all the powerful seniors had already been chosen, leaving the weakest—like Ziyan—without a partner.

As everyone else returned to rest, even Ziyan was about to give up when she resolved not to be overlooked, choosing to wait.

By chance, she met Xu Xing, a prodigy of monstrous talent.

What followed only confirmed Ziyan’s belief in her own luck. Now, she was busy dealing with affairs between the short and the tall.

After climbing a long, gentle slope, they reached a level expanse.

Ahead floated a grand platform, suspended in midair, reminiscent of the plaque they’d seen halfway up the mountain. The golden characters shining there struck Xu Xing’s soul, causing his heart to tremble and leaving him unable to recover for a long time.

Beihai Academy.

Looking further ahead, a conical mountain hovered high above the city.

“This is where we live,” Zhou Lingya explained. “In two days, the freshmen assembly will begin. Ziyan will take you. To confirm again, your guide is Ziyan, correct?”

Zhou Lingya glanced back, licking her dry lips as she spoke.

“Yes, she’s my guide. But why aren’t we flying there?” Xu Xing asked.

“So arrogant…” Zhou Lingya snapped with cold impatience.

They stepped onto a broad plaza, where crowds pressed shoulder to shoulder. Xu Xing wondered where so many people had come from. The vast square connected to a sprawling city, its streets glittering with lights and festive lanterns, casting a warm red glow through alleys and lanes. Though it was already late at night, the city remained lively and boisterous.

“This is the academy’s residential area,” Zhou Lingya said, gesturing to the city aglow behind them. “What we saw below was the city of Shushan’s original inhabitants. Only those chosen may live here. From today on, this will be your home.”

Excited, Xu Xing leapt up and hugged Zhou Lingya, exclaiming, “Wonderful, senior sister! Now I can cultivate here in peace and joy!”

Zhou Lingya rolled her eyes but did not push him away. Instead, she smiled with a hint of satisfaction and, after a moment’s hesitation, raised her arms as though to embrace him in return.

“Senior sister, let’s go inside and talk,” Xu Xing said, releasing her like a child.

Xu Xing spun in circles at her side. Zhou Lingya, a little disappointed, dropped her hands to her waist, pursed her lips, and said, “Let’s go.”

Passing through the city gates from the plaza, the bustling market was a heady sight. Actors sang arias, others performed with monkeys and acrobatics, while some hawked family heirlooms to make a living.

Xu Xing’s gaze landed on a father selling candied hawthorn. He was moved—wasn’t this the same man he’d helped in Haicheng days ago? Only now, the man’s daughter was not at his side. Alone, he seemed even more desolate.

Thinking of this, Xu Xing pulled Zhou Lingya with him toward the candy vendor.

“Hey, Xu Xing, what are you doing? Let me go!” Zhou Lingya protested, pouting slightly.

Standing before the vendor, Xu Xing stopped and stared intently, saying nothing.

The vendor looked listless, his eyes no longer shining as before. One could faintly hear his muttered self-mockery, as if possessed.

“My daughter… give me back my daughter…”

Seeing Xu Xing approach, the man rose from his stone seat and met Xu Xing’s gaze.

“Young man, you seem familiar. Have we met before?” he asked weakly, his voice a key that unlocked Xu Xing’s heart, causing him to pour out his story.

Through their conversation, Xu Xing learned the man’s name was Jiang Kun. Zhou Lingya, being compassionate herself, did not interrupt but simply stood quietly behind Xu Xing.

“So it was you who slipped that heavy silver note to me that day?” Jiang Kun asked, a rare smile flickering on his face.

Xu Xing nodded, unsure how to respond. Looking at the lonely Jiang Kun, he asked, “Where is your daughter?”

“Ah… that’s a long story.”

Over a cup of tea, Xu Xing listened. Though he did not weep, he felt a pang for Jiang Kun’s suffering. The man’s past was more tragic than he had imagined.

Yet Jiang Kun had come here in pursuit of strength and cultivation, for the sake of the daughter who could not come with him.

Xu Xing bought two sticks of candied hawthorn, handing one to Zhou Lingya. After a simple farewell, the two prepared to leave. As they parted, Jiang Kun said with resignation, “I hope we’ll meet again.”

As they walked away, a troupe of actors finished a play—“The Hero Rescues the Beauty”—but left the ending open, as if inviting the crowd to ponder what came next.

Looking up, Xu Xing realized some stories have no true ending.

Perhaps the myriad lights of the city, shining brilliantly among the tall buildings and lively crowds, were the final ending the actors wished to leave for the world.

With the play concluded, Xu Xing followed Zhou Lingya into a narrow lane, its dampness and chill lingering in the air.

Perhaps it was the gentle rain after an empty city. After a while, they arrived at a courtyard, fragrant with flowers that lifted the spirits.

Zhou Lingya stepped forward and knocked on the yellowed wooden door, whose painted guardians had faded with time.

The courtyard seemed uninhabited. Zhou Lingya produced a key, unlocked the door, and entered quietly.

“Come in. Are you shy?” she called.

Xu Xing glanced around. Though it was night, there was no shortage of passersby.

He entered, the door closing softly behind him.

In the courtyard stood a persimmon tree with a small pond beneath it, the water so clear that fish could be seen darting within. Two rocking chairs sat under the tree, and the residence held three rooms in all.

As Xu Xing looked around, Zhou Lingya turned to face him directly.

“Now you have two choices.”