Chapter Thirteen: Exile to Ascension Peak

Du Nan released his grip on Li Chongyuan and ordered his men to help Tie Lin to his feet. Placing his palms against Tie Lin’s back, he silently channeled the immense power of the Primordial Harmony Technique into him. Soon, white steam rose from the top of Du Nan’s head, swirling about his temples in a lingering mist. In the haze of half-consciousness, Tie Lin felt a gentle warmth sweeping through his entire body; his once hollow and empty core gradually grew solid and steady. About two hours later, Tie Lin awoke. Aside from some lingering weakness in his injured meridians, his internal strength was largely intact.

Daoist Xuanwu, witnessing Du Nan exhaust his own energy to heal Tie Lin, was filled with both gratitude and shame. Du Nan, however, had his own considerations. If Tie Lin were allowed to leave injured, he might seek treatment elsewhere. In the martial world, there was no shortage of talented healers who might discern what had truly occurred, sparking further turmoil. By healing Tie Lin himself, Du Nan not only bestowed upon him a great favor but also ensured that, since both sects’ internal energies were now nearly indistinguishable after the treatment, none could later tell them apart.

Drained of much of his strength, Du Nan’s face was ashen. Forcing himself upright, he said to Daoist Xuanwu, “This matter took place on Tianshan, and our sect must answer for it. Forgive my rudeness—I must go and meditate. My junior brother Yang Wuji will handle affairs here.” At his words, two disciples hurried over to support Du Nan as he made his way up the mountain to recover.

Yang Wuji then persuaded Daoist Xuanwu to rest on the mountain for a few days, saying it would be unwise for Tie Lin to leave so soon after his recovery. Other disciples escorted Daoist Xuanwu and Tie Lin up the mountain.

Meanwhile, Li Chongyuan’s display of prowess had caused an uproar among the Tianshan disciples. Not only had he rescued Miao Kewei, but he had also managed to injure Daoist Tie Lin so severely that the man spat blood. The gathering was abuzz; disciples looked on with admiration. Miao Kewei, who had won several matches in a row, was now all but forgotten, while Li Chongyuan was surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers. The young women from the Suwen Pavilion watched him from afar, cheeks aflame, whispering and giggling among themselves. Huang Shan ran over, grasped his hand, and swayed it back and forth, exclaiming, “Brother Chongyuan, you’re amazing! Not even such a fierce opponent can stand against you!” From a distance, Hong Mochou stood silently, her envy plain upon her face.

The competition concluded, and the disciples with protective duties bustled about cleaning up the grounds. The rest, after some noisy revelry, began their trek back up the mountain, chattering excitedly. When they reached the main hall, the crowd was still abuzz with conversations, many replaying the day’s events. Someone remarked, “The defense of the sect is in good hands with Li Chongyuan!” Another joked, “Perhaps now you’ll finally be able to relax.” Laughter echoed through the corridor, and the group gradually dispersed.

After winding their way past several small peaks, a modest courtyard appeared amid the snow.

Inside, a brazier glowed with red-hot coals, and Du Nan sat cross-legged on a meditation mat beside it. On Tianshan, everyone was a martial artist, and no one ever needed a brazier for warmth. For Du Nan to prepare one now was clear testimony to how severely his strength had been depleted earlier in the day. Zi Wuzhuo stood by in silence.

Du Nan looked at him and asked, “Where did you learn your martial arts?”

Li Chongyuan dared neither to lie nor to confess that his teacher was Qu Beiyuan. He hesitated, unable to answer.

Du Nan continued, “You’ve been near the Demon-Execution Peak by the Bihui Pool, haven’t you?” Li Chongyuan thought to himself that this must be the nameless snow-capped peak where Qu Beiyuan was imprisoned. He hesitated for a long moment before nodding heavily.

Zi Wuzhuo’s face changed instantly. He stepped forward and said, “It was my negligence as a teacher that allowed a breach of sect rules. I beg you—”

Du Nan raised a hand to silence him. “Twenty years ago, I fought Qu Beiyuan myself. I’m intimately familiar with his inner strength; you cannot deceive me. Only today did I discover that you sought him out in secret and learned his techniques. Alas!” His words were laden with sorrow.

He beckoned Li Chongyuan closer and said, “This matter is known only to the heads of the various halls, Song Changkong, Miao Kewei, and a handful of others. How did you come by this knowledge?” Resigned, Li Chongyuan recounted in detail how he had seen Miao Kewei, followed her to the cave, met Qu Beiyuan, been wounded by the Asura Divine Skill, and had no choice but to learn the technique to save his life. He kept silent, however, about the small booklet.

After a long, silent exchange of glances between Du Nan and Zi Wuzhuo, Du Nan sighed, “Heaven’s will.”

He summoned Li Chongyuan to stand before him and asked solemnly, “Chongyuan, do you know who Qu Beiyuan really is? Years ago, Yin Liji rampaged through the martial world under the banner of the Tianshan Sect, leaving a trail of blood and terror. For twenty years, he was unrivaled, and countless righteous martial artists fell to his sword. Even our own upright members were forced to flee Tianshan for safety. Qu Beiyuan was his final disciple, inheriting all of Yin Liji’s skills. In those days, he too aided evil and caused no end of trouble. Twenty years ago, our Grandmaster Ye, unmatched in martial arts, rallied the heroes, stormed Tianshan, and drove out the traitors, restoring our sect’s honor. That battle wiped out the villains, but countless righteous heroes also perished, grievously weakening the martial world. Yin Liji himself vanished without a trace. Qu Beiyuan escaped in the chaos but was eventually discovered hiding as a constable in Fengxiang Prefecture. The martial world converged upon him; he slipped away, was finally captured in Guizhou, and brought back to Tianshan. Out of compassion for a fellow member of the sect, Grandmaster Ye treated him kindly, hoping he might repent, but Qu Beiyuan remained unrepentant. In the end, he was confined atop Demon-Execution Peak. Who could have guessed that, instead of repenting, he secretly took on disciples, perhaps plotting a return?” Usually serene, Du Nan’s composure faltered; his voice rose, barely containing his anger.

After a moment, Du Nan regained his calm and continued, “The Storm-Thunder Palm you practiced was created by Patriarch Lu Pinghu, and your ‘Shadowless Before the Lamp’ lightness skill was the work of Patriarch Murong Zhaixing. Sadly, both were slain by Yin Liji. Yet you, unheeding of the past, apprenticed yourself to a villain and learned sinister arts—you are perilously close to the demonic path.”

Though the decree of the Southern Sect’s head, Ye Changqing, had been that any who trespassed on Demon-Execution Peak was to be executed, Li Chongyuan’s actions were unintentional and his learning of the Asura Divine Skill was born of desperation. Moreover, he had restored the Tianshan Sect’s honor that very day. Du Nan could not bear to punish him with death. After a long silence, Du Nan finally spoke: “Li Chongyuan, disciple of Mingxin Hall, hear my command!” “Your disciple is here,” Li Chongyuan replied, kneeling.

“You trespassed in the forbidden grounds, secretly sought a teacher, and practiced evil arts. By the sect’s rules, you should be executed. However, since there were extenuating circumstances, you are sentenced to guard the ancestral tombs of the Tianshan Sect’s generations of masters. You are to depart at once and must not delay!”

Three days later, Song Changkong and Miao Kewei escorted Li Chongyuan to the remote Ascension Peak. The term ‘escort’ was in truth a form of custody. Song Changkong was at ease, but Miao Kewei, whose life Li Chongyuan had saved, was visibly uncomfortable, remaining silent and insisting on carrying the luggage himself. Understanding his awkwardness, Li Chongyuan reassured him, “Brother, you need not be troubled. I am willing to accept the punishment for my own mistakes.” He had also asked Qu Beiyuan how he felt about being made a tomb keeper. Miao Kewei replied bitterly, “That old demon? He eats and drinks as always, only sighing that he has no playmates and is dreadfully bored.”

Ascension Peak was the resting place of Tianshan’s masters and its fallen disciples. The cold there was eternal; not only were visitors rare, not even birds passed overhead. To be sent to guard the tombs was the sect’s harshest punishment, short of execution or expulsion. Disciples sent here, except on funeral days when company arrived, were utterly isolated from the world. The peak stood alone, hanging off the mountain range, one side connected to the main path, the other dropping off into a sheer, bottomless chasm—an expanse so vast that, even if one had wings, escape would be impossible.

As for lodgings, it was a stone cave, shaped like a gourd—narrow at the entrance, wide within. Pushing aside the tattered sheepskin curtain, one found a few simple stone beds, a stone table, and a hearth. The cave’s depths vanished into utter darkness, trailing deep into the mountain itself.

Miao Kewei set the luggage on a stone bed, clasped his hands, and said, “Brother Chongyuan, this is where we part. As for the debt I owe for saving my life—” Li Chongyuan immediately interrupted, “Brother, there’s no need for that. You owe me nothing. Even if you hadn’t been there, I would have acted when Tie Lin insulted us. Please, forget it.”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. “If I’m to guard the tomb, why is there not a single weapon here?”

Song Changkong laughed. “With martial skills like yours, or even if you were powerless, there’s no need to fear thieves. Even if you begged people to come and rob this place, no one would want to. As for thieves, you need not worry. But as for ghosts and spirits, you’d best be careful.”

“What! Are there really ghosts here?”