Volume One: Youthful Encounters in Subtle Times Chapter 101: The Taoist's Confession 1

Did the Daoist Lin truly have no choice? No, in fact, he had many options: to watch from the sidelines or to become one of them, both ways ensuring his own safety. But life is about choosing what to do and what not to do. Though he was a Daoist, he had once been a scholar. During his studies, he had learned many things poorly, except for one phrase that remained etched in his mind. Once he uncovered the truth behind the Celestial Gate, he could no longer remain indifferent, nor could he refrain from becoming involved.

Others might not understand this, but Li Yu did, and so did his senior brother in the Imperial Pavilion.

Meanwhile, far outside the Celestial Gate town, the herding Daoist, sensing the great Dao’s ripple emanating from the Celestial Gate, gazed into the distance and muttered to himself, “Lin, I believe I know what you intend to do, but is it truly worth it?”

This was both a question to himself and to others—an inquiry into his own heart and into human nature.

Unexpectedly, a faint voice drifted from the distant void, directly entering Mu’s heart.

“There is no such thing as worth or unworth; only willingness. Every action follows the heart’s desire!”

Hearing this, Mu stood by the window, lost in deep contemplation. After a long silence, he sighed heavily. “Congratulations. You have finally attained the Dao!”

At the same time, Li Yu and his companions stared at the Celestial Gate appearing on the horizon, their hearts overwhelmed with astonishment. They had not expected that Li Yu’s prediction about where the gate might appear would come true.

Only Li Yu remained unmoved. He had learned from his master that the Celestial Gate was not as perfect as they imagined. Behind it, a staggering conspiracy was concealed, yet those blinded by present gains could not see the far-reaching consequences.

As Li Yu looked upon the illusory yet tangible Celestial Gate, a strange sense of repulsion surged within him—an inexplicable feeling with no clear cause, yet unmistakably present.

An elder approached from afar. Everyone eyed him as if he were a formidable foe. One who could approach the Celestial Gate at such a moment surely was no ordinary person.

The elder wore simple coarse cloth robes and carried a bamboo raincoat on his back. He walked slowly toward Li Yu, his expression grave and without superfluous emotion.

As he neared, he said, “Your master asked me to take you away. This is no longer your battlefield.”

Li Yu did not heed him and instead asked, “Is my master nearby? What exactly does he intend? Is it not time to speak yet?”

This elder was the same old fisherman from the sea, the one Li Yu had once met by chance when first learning the Dragon God Technique. Reflecting on it later, Li Yu realized it might never have been mere chance.

Originally, the old man had intended to seize the opportunity of the Celestial Gate’s opening to seek his own ascension—a chance he had awaited for many years.

But just as he was about to intervene, Lin Daoist suddenly found him.

“If you hadn’t saved my disciple when he fell into the sea that day, I wouldn’t have come looking for you.” Upon meeting, Lin Daoist spoke plainly.

The old fisherman had never expected Lin Daoist to seek him out. Though they had lived together in Celestial Gate town for many years, the Daoist had always ignored him, neither caring nor asking.

The old fisherman bowed respectfully. “Chen Yuan pays respects to the director.”

Lin Daoist waved off the formality. “I’m not here to reminisce. The past, right or wrong, is for others to judge and has nothing to do with me. I’m here to tell you not to get involved with the Celestial Gate—there’s no benefit.”

Chen Yuan’s face immediately turned pale. From the Daoist’s words, it was clear the Celestial Gate was not his concern, and all his years of preparation had been in vain. But how could he accept that?

He had lain low in Celestial Gate town for years, all for the gate’s opening. After the past, his cultivation had plummeted, and though he had somewhat recovered, he was still far from his peak. Worse, the hidden injuries from before destroyed any chance of reaching the pinnacle again. Now, the Celestial Gate was his last hope.

He could not give up and forced himself to ask, “May I ask, director, why?”

Lin Daoist glanced at him. Chen Yuan’s unwavering gaze demanded an answer.

“If you refuse to listen, I wouldn’t bother. But since you’ve asked with such perseverance, I’ll reluctantly tell you!” With a tone both profound and commanding, the Daoist declared, “As long as I am here, no one can ascend!”

After this domineering declaration, he turned to Chen Yuan. “I have one more favor to ask of you. In return, I can cure your hidden injuries, giving you hope to reclaim your peak.”

Chen Yuan was tempted. He knew that with this Daoist around, no one could ascend the Celestial Gate; perhaps no one at all. So if he could regain his prime, it would be an unexpected blessing.

Yet he still asked cautiously and out of curiosity, “Why me? With your status, it should be easy to find someone to do your bidding.”

The Daoist sighed. “Because, aside from a few close friends, only you have karmic ties with him. I don’t know why you helped him that day and don’t intend to ask. But since you did, a faint connection exists between you; therefore, you are the best choice.”

Chen Yuan was surprised that a moment of kindness from long ago had planted a seed of good fortune. “What do you need me to do?”

“Watch over him until he leaves Celestial Gate town. After that, you are free to do as you wish.”

“Very well. Do I need to swear an oath or will you leave some means to control me?” Chen Yuan asked conscientiously.

The Daoist laughed. “You are sensible, but I am not so petty. Since I chose you, I trust you won’t betray me. Even if you try, I have ways to make you suffer. Oaths and such tricks are beneath me.”

Then, he treated Chen Yuan’s hidden injuries.

In truth, Chen Yuan’s wounds were Dao injuries, inflicted by someone using the great Dao to sever his root, rendering his own Dao a chasm impossible to cross. Now healed by the Daoist’s superior power, Chen Yuan’s entire aura was renewed.

Feeling the change, his joy grew. The Daoist not only reconnected his Dao path but also embedded within it the original wielder’s great Dao, mingled with traces of Lin Daoist’s own path.

He realized that if he could fully comprehend and absorb this, it would be a tremendous breakthrough, enabling him not only to return to his former peak but to rise even higher, truly reaching the summit of the great Dao.

Grasping the rarity and preciousness of the Daoist’s gift, he knelt on one knee and expressed heartfelt gratitude. “Thank you, director, for this rebirth.”

Lin Daoist waved dismissively. “No need. This is merely a transaction; don’t take it to heart.”

After giving Chen Yuan some further instructions, the Daoist vanished.

Chen Yuan watched the Daoist’s departing figure, his admiration reaching its peak. He thought, “To cultivate to such a realm is to be a true immortal cultivator! Under this sky, there is likely no rival.”

He also recalled the Daoist’s parting instructions and marveled that to be accepted as his disciple, the Daoist himself must be extraordinary.

After leaving, the Daoist’s next destination was the northern territory of the demon clan beyond Celestial Gate town. Upon arriving beneath a great tree, Liuguang appeared. Tearful, she gazed at the Daoist, whose snowy hair and youthful visage belied his age, and choked out, “Must you go?”

The Daoist stepped forward, wiping her tears, and took from his belongings a wooden hairpin—carved from the phoenix tree, shaped like a ruyi scepter—which he placed in her hair.

“There are things unknown to me that I could pretend never happened. But since I know, I must act.” Then, slightly embarrassed, he added, “Sorry to have kept you waiting all these years. I hope this pin will protect you for a lifetime and bring you every blessing.”

Liuguang smiled through her tears. “Can’t you read more books? After all these years, you still only know these two lines. I want to hear something else.”

For once, the Daoist seemed bashful. “Not that I can, cough cough!”

Seeing this, Liuguang ceased teasing and solemnly said, “I know this journey is perilous, but don’t give up on survival. Staying alive is best. Even if you lose your cultivation, I can take you back to our clan and keep you safe for life.”

The Daoist smiled casually. “I will, don’t worry. Also, if anything happens to me, please watch over my young disciple. His life will be hard, and if I’m right, his responsibilities will be great.”

Liuguang nodded without question. “Your disciple is mine as well. As long as I live, I will be his strongest support.”

Hearing this promise, the Daoist’s last worries vanished. He released her hand and smiled, “Then, I shall take my leave.”

With that, the Daoist’s figure vanished without a trace.

Liuguang thought back to when she first met the Daoist—then a fledgling phoenix newly reborn from her first nirvana, fragile and weak. Had she not encountered him, still a scholar at the time, she might have perished, leaving no last phoenix in the world.

From that moment, they became friends, kindred spirits with mutual affection. Alas, after the Daoist joined the Dao sect, their relationship could go no further.

Yet their feelings endured, and each was willing to brave fire and water for the other. Between love and duty, they both chose responsibility, bearing the burdens of high-level cultivators.