Volume One: Youths Meet in Their Humble Beginnings Chapter Seventeen: What Do You Want to Do? I Want to Set the Mountain Ablaze

All three received valuable advice for their cultivation from the Daoist. Although the Daoist spoke not a word, they all understood well that this benefit was owed to Li Yu’s favor.

Realizing the hour was late, the three knew they could not linger. Yet their concern and curiosity over Li Yu’s next steps could not be concealed.

“Since you won’t come with us, what do you plan to do next?” Water Linglong asked from the side.

Li Yu glanced at the sky lanterns inside the house and replied, “I’m going to set the mountain ablaze.”

At last, they understood the purpose behind all those sky lanterns Li Yu had crafted. But what was the meaning of this act? Was it simply to vent his resentment, or did he intend to perish in the flames?

Water Linglong could not help but say, “There’s really no meaning in this.”

Li Yu was unbothered, smiling as he replied, “There are countless meaningless things in this world, yet don’t we all do them? Besides, since the mountain god destroyed my peaceful and happy life, I will not let him rest easy either.”

Compassion stirred in the hearts of the three. But this was Li Yu’s choice. Having already received the Daoist’s kindness and promised not to interfere further, all they could do was sigh in their hearts.

Lie Yan stepped forward, drawing a wisp of flame from his own body. It became a red fire blossom, which he branded onto the back of Li Yu’s hand. “You saved me from the illusion, and I have yet to repay you. If you wish to burn the mountain, ordinary fire won’t suffice to set the land ablaze. This mark will help you—the fire you set will not easily die out.”

Li Yu did not stand on ceremony. He knew Lie Yan meant to help, and he was right; mundane fire alone would not achieve his aim. So he accepted the gift with equanimity.

The Daoist, meanwhile, paid them little heed, finding a place to sit and rest with closed eyes.

Li Yu escorted the three to the door. Lu Ming could not help but feel troubled at the thought of watching Li Yu go to his death. Moreover, glancing at the Daoist inside, he sensed that the man would not simply watch Li Yu perish—perhaps he had other plans, though he said nothing. And with their strength, they could not force him to explain.

So Lu Ming produced a token—on its face was carved a sword, and on the reverse, the character for Ming.

Water Linglong and the other glanced over, for to possess a sword token of one’s own in Great Sword Green Mountain marked a status worthy of a Sword Elder’s authority. As Lu Ming’s cultivation increased, the meaning behind that token would only grow.

Lu Ming said, “Take this token. If fate allows, I still hope you can live on. If you truly have nowhere to go, bring this to Great Sword Green Mountain and seek me out.”

Li Yu did not quite understand why Lu Ming would say such a thing, but not wishing to slight the goodwill, he accepted it.

Seeing the others had each offered a parting gift, Water Linglong felt it would be remiss not to do the same, especially since Li Yu had indeed saved her life.

Thinking so, she took out a pearl and smiled, “You’ve accepted their gifts; I can’t show favoritism, can I?”

Li Yu had meant to refuse, but seeing her insistence, he could not reject her goodwill.

Understanding his nature, not wishing to owe others, she continued, “Just keep it safely. And I’m not giving it to you for nothing. This Celestial Water Pearl holds a trace of heavenly water. Though you haven’t told us what you plan, I can guess. If the time is right, throw this pearl at that damned mountain god—let him taste the celestial water again, and help me avenge myself.”

Lu Ming asked, “When do you plan to set the fire?”

Li Yu glanced at the sky. “At dusk, when the setting sun is as red as blood.”

Lu Ming nodded. “Then we’ll leave now and head to Changlin City. There are warnings we must deliver.”

The three exchanged glances, then bowed to Li Yu with clasped fists. “We hope someday we may meet again in this world.”

This was a mark of respect—not treating Li Yu as a child any longer. In their eyes, he now possessed the mind to stand as an equal among them.

Li Yu’s eyes were red-rimmed, but he smiled as he too clasped his fists. “May you in the years to come sing like phoenixes upon high hills; may the parasol trees grow in the morning sun.”

They had arrived alone, but now left with a measure of concern for Li Yu. Perhaps this experience would one day bring them unexpected rewards upon their path of cultivation.

The Daoist emerged, watching as Li Yu kept his gaze fixed on the departing trio. “If you are loath to part, why not go with them?”

Li Yu did not turn around, replying directly, “Because I am loath to part, I must cut off all attachment.”

The Daoist offered no comment, merely thinking to himself, “Who knows where he picked up such affected philosophies? So old before his time—where is the innocence and charm of a child?”

When the three had vanished from sight, Li Yu turned back and looked up at the Daoist. “Immortal, are you not leaving?”

The Daoist replied with amusement, “Why do you sound as if you wish I would?”

Li Yu shook his head. “An immortal comes and goes as he pleases, and my wishes cannot be that important.”

The Daoist remained silent, so Li Yu continued, “The three most gifted have departed. I cannot understand what worth remains here to keep you.”

The Daoist answered, “Did I not say? I want to see how you will carry out your plan.”

Li Yu almost rolled his eyes, but his disposition did not permit it. Suppressing his irritation, he could only mutter, “Oh. Then I’ll get to work.”

With that, he did not wait for the Daoist’s reaction but went inside.

The Daoist grumbled under his breath, “Now that’s more like it. Why so solemn? A little childishness is fitting for a child.”

The two entered the house one after the other. The Daoist saw Li Yu carrying all the sky lanterns into the yard, then returning to check around the house. Finding nothing left to hold him, Li Yu fetched the wine he had taken earlier.

He turned to the Daoist. “Immortal, I have nothing else of value here. Only this flask of wine remains. If you don’t mind that it’s not a rare vintage, fill a gourd and take it as my thanks for your guidance on the mountain.”

The Daoist smiled teasingly, “So I get a share after all?”

Li Yu, a little embarrassed, admitted, “Actually, I meant to give a bowl to the Earth God, use some for the lantern wicks, and drink one myself.”

The Daoist grew curious. “Why do you drink wine? Out of fear—to give yourself courage?”

Li Yu replied, “No. I heard that on the road to the Yellow Springs there are many fierce ghosts. If I don’t drink a little, I might be bullied and have no strength to fight back. What if, because of that, I can’t catch up with Grandma?”

The Daoist had not expected this reason and was struck silent. After a while, he said, “You truly were deeply attached to your grandmother.”

He handed over his gourd without further ceremony.

Then he asked, “You actually saw me two years ago, didn’t you?”

Li Yu took the gourd, pouring in half a flask of wine with care, not spilling a drop, and paid no attention to the gourd itself. Hearing the question, he paused, then said, “You noticed?”

The Daoist was silent. Li Yu continued, “Back then, I just felt your gaze was strange, so I looked at you. I didn’t expect you’d notice.”

The Daoist was surprised—this child seemed to have so many secrets that even he was taken aback.

He asked, “Were your eyes always able to see such things?”

Li Yu shook his head, clearly unwilling to discuss it further.

Taking his wine-filled gourd, the Daoist changed the subject. “Your true reason for setting the mountain on fire is to escalate the matter, to make it impossible to cover up—am I right?”

Li Yu, busy making wicks, stilled his hands at this. He knew he could not conceal the truth. He wanted to be honest, but feared the Daoist would intervene. Yet, if the Daoist wished to obstruct him, why would he have sent Lu Ming and the others away? Besides, with his power, killing Li Yu would be effortless.

Thinking it through, Li Yu continued to make the wicks as he answered, “At first, I just wanted to vent my anger before dying—set a fire, burn what I could, so I wouldn’t die with such frustration. But after hearing Lu Ming talk about reporting this to the Skysurvey Tribunal, I decided to blow the matter wide open. The bigger the blaze, the harder it is to hide. That way, the Skysurvey Tribunal would have to pay attention and avenge us.”

The Daoist pressed on, “So you never intended to die at first? Only after deciding to do this, knowing it would bring disaster, did you resolve to trade your life for justice?”

Li Yu shook his head. “Even if I’d never heard of the Skysurvey Tribunal, I still wouldn’t want to live. Living isn’t a blessing for me. Maybe you think living means you can cultivate, the longer you live the further you go. But for some, living isn’t heaven’s favor—it’s heaven’s cruelest curse.”

The Daoist did not refute or try to persuade him. As Li Yu said, these were his choices—no one could interfere. Even if the Daoist wished to act, it would only be after Li Yu had finished all he wished to do.

“But have you considered that if the disaster spreads, it will harm people outside as well?”

Li Yu fell silent, his hands stopping.

A deep silence settled between them—so quiet one could hear the beating of one’s own heart.

It was not that he had never thought of this, but facing it by his own will and being forced to confront it were not the same.

After a long while, Li Yu finally spoke, “I know it might bring suffering and hardship to others outside.”

Then he looked up suddenly and asked, “But must my grandmother and all who ever lived on this land die unjustly and never find justice?”

With conviction, Li Yu continued, “I know heaven is never fair. Some are happy, some are doomed to misery; some live long and carefree, others die young and suffer. But there’s no reason we should be denied even the most basic justice, even in death.”

“Call me selfish or cruel if you like—I don’t care. In truth, since I was old enough to understand, I knew that so-called altruism only belongs to those with absolute advantage. For people like us, surviving is already a stroke of luck. There’s no reason we should give up our last hope of justice even in death.”

Hearing this, the Daoist knew Li Yu had suffered much since childhood. That his nature had not become twisted was already proof of his innate goodness. Besides, he could tell Li Yu was blackening his own name deliberately.

“Why belittle yourself as selfish and worthless?”

Li Yu said nothing, just sat quietly and resumed his work after speaking his mind.

The Daoist went on, “If you truly felt no guilt, you wouldn’t have delayed until nightfall. You knew Lu Ming and the others would go warn people if they couldn’t stop you—so long as the matter is exposed, your aim is achieved.”

At last, Li Yu could not help but ask, “So what? Since you see through all my thoughts, what do you intend? Are you going to stop me from committing such a monstrous act?”

Seeing Li Yu’s agitation, the Daoist stopped teasing him and replied with a careless smile, “As I said, I won’t stop you from doing anything. I ask only to know if you’re worth teaching a spell—so you can have a better chance to avenge yourself before you die.”