Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Twenty-Eight: This Is Your New Home

Tianmen Town was an ancient settlement, one whose location did not appear on Dacheng's official maps, yet could only be accessed through Dacheng’s territory. Tianmen Town was surrounded by the sea on all sides; to call it a town was almost a misnomer—it was, in truth, a natural island.

Only upon entering the populated quarters of Tianmen Town would one discover that three sides of the town were encircled by mountains—sheer cliffs, lofty and unscalable, their depths unfathomable. Natural barriers, imbued with ancient prohibitions, forbade all from passing with any power but their own bodies. Once, some enterprising souls had considered opening more harbors to the east, but the unique geography forever dashed such hopes.

In Tianmen Town, to control a private harbor was to possess great convenience in all matters. No one traveled via the south, west, or north; all passage in and out relied solely on the eastern sea. Hence, true power in Tianmen Town always resided with those in the east, led by the City Lord’s Mansion.

Though the sea’s tempests could overturn even cultivators, and falling into the water meant certain death at the claws of sea monsters, there remained safe routes navigable by magic, giving those seeking entry or escape a sliver of hope.

Tianmen Town’s status was remarkable—partly due to its unique nature, but also because of a legend: hidden within the town was said to be a Heaven Gate, containing the final secret to ultimate transcendence. Whoever found and opened it would become the first true sovereign in a thousand years, an unrivaled power.

Such rumors held irresistible allure for seekers of truth, drawing factions from all directions, who came to explore and vie for treasure, gradually forming several distinct powers within Tianmen Town. Over the years, these factions intermingled, their alliances and rivalries becoming ever more intricate, until the lines between “us” and “them” blurred beyond recognition.

When Master Lin led Li Yu back to Tianmen Town, the boy’s first impression was chaos. Yet it was not disorder in law, nor in the streets or people’s conduct, but rather in the aura that pervaded the place.

Li Yu sensed this most acutely: among the auras, some radiated a grand, righteous might, others exuded treacherous malice. He had never encountered such an atmosphere before, and was puzzled. Master Lin, noticing his confusion, asked, “Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

Li Yu nodded. Master Lin laughed, “I felt the same on my first visit. But once you’re used to it, you’ll find the aura here is purer than outside, and in a way, much more comfortable.”

Li Yu asked, “Master, have you lived here long?”

Master Lin thought for a moment, then gave a vague answer, “Not too long—about three hundred years, perhaps.”

“Then why did you come here, Master?” Li Yu asked.

Gazing at the imposing city wall ahead, with “Tianmen Town” inscribed above the gate and laborers bustling about unloading cargo and docking boats, Master Lin replied calmly, “To hide from someone—and to wait for something.”

There was a subtle sorrow in the Daoist’s voice, and Li Yu noticed it. For the first time, he realized that even someone as formidable as his master could have moments of helplessness.

As they spoke, a man in his thirties unloading cargo on the shore spotted Master Lin returning by boat. He dropped his load and called out loudly, “The Daoist has returned! The Daoist has returned!” His shout roused all the workers nearby, who put down their burdens and waved excitedly at the boat, their cheers so spirited that even Li Yu was surprised. He had not expected his master to be held in such high esteem, to receive so much affection and respect.

Li Yu was no fool; in fact, he was more attuned to human nature than most children his age. He could instinctively sense the sincerity or falsehood in people’s words and expressions.

Master Lin ruffled Li Yu’s hair and grinned, “See? Your master’s quite popular!”

Once ashore, the man who had first spotted them hurried over, flashing a big white grin. “You’re finally back, Master. You’ve been gone for months—without you, drinking with Wang Er after work just isn’t the same.”

His eyes then fell on the little boy beside the Daoist—a child with gray eyes and a sallow face, but his hair was impeccably neat, and though his plain clothes were worn, they were spotless, showing no trace of travel.

Someone with sharper eyes teased, “Master, you didn’t return all scruffy as before this time. Look how clean you are—almost like a different person!”

The first man laughed and added, “Did this young lad help tidy you up, Master?”

Master Lin replied with evident pride, “My friends, this is my new disciple—Li Yu. From now on, I have someone to help with the chores, so you can’t complain about my untidy ways anymore. And one more thing: if any trouble arises, look after him for me. Don’t let anyone with more brawn than brains bully him.”

“No need to say it, Master. Even if he weren’t your disciple, anyone you bring to Tianmen Town is under our protection,” the workers assured him.

Master Lin chuckled, “I was waiting for that promise, Jiang Dafeng. Come to my place for a drink after your shift. I need to take him home first—there’s much to tidy up after being away so long.”

After more laughter and banter, the crowd dispersed. On their way back, Master Lin told Li Yu, “That fellow’s name is Jiang Dafeng. Just call him Brother Jiang when you see him.” He pulled out a cucumber a kindly aunt had given him, wiped it on his sleeve, and took a bite. “The people making a living here are no different from those outside—many factions, tangled rivalries. You’ll understand in time. The other factions can be tricky, but Dafeng is a good man; you can trust him.”

Li Yu nodded. Master Lin handed him a cucumber, but as he was about to wipe it on his sleeve, Li Yu quickly said, “Master, let me do it myself!” Only then did the Daoist realize, and tapped Li Yu lightly on the head, laughing, “You little rascal, are you starting to dislike your master now? So particular about cleanliness! Fine, you do it.”

Li Yu took the cucumber, produced a handkerchief from his pocket, and carefully wiped it before eating. The Daoist clicked his tongue, clearly bemused by the boy’s fastidiousness.

On their journey, Li Yu had taken care of all their daily needs, leaving Master Lin to worry about nothing. The Daoist’s clothes, for example, were always cleaned and prepared by Li Yu, a habit that took some getting used to.

The farther they traveled from Dacheng, the more the Daoist’s true nature emerged—he grew ever more casual, shedding all pretense of lofty demeanor. But Li Yu could not abide such slovenliness; everything they ate, wore, or used might not be luxurious, but was always clean and tidy.

This small difference led to their first serious conversation.

“My little Fish, do you have some kind of obsession with cleanliness?” the Daoist asked.

“No.”

“Then why do you always make sure I’m neat and tidy?”

“Isn’t it good to be clean?”

“It’s not bad, I suppose. But my habits are different from yours. You don’t need to take such good care of me. I like to be a little more relaxed.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t stop you from being relaxed, did I?”

And so, while Li Yu didn’t control the Daoist’s actions, any meal he prepared was always properly portioned—roast rabbit or fish cut into easy pieces so as not to dirty one’s clothes. Dirty clothes were washed at night and replaced with clean ones for the next day. For once, the Daoist returned to Tianmen Town not the least bit unkempt.

Though he rolled his eyes, the Daoist wasn’t about to roll in the mud just to spite his neat attire, nor would he snatch messy food from Li Yu’s hands and devour it in a fit of rebellion.

One pretended not to notice, while the other’s discomfort nearly reached the heavens. And so, with their own unspoken thoughts, master and disciple made their way back to Tianmen Town.

The Daoist soon reconnected with several acquaintances, but as dusk was falling, they only exchanged greetings and promised to visit each other’s homes for meals when time allowed.

Before long, the two arrived at a Daoist temple. Li Yu studied it: small in area, with a modest lintel, its appearance hinted at long years of history. The plaster on the walls was peeling, revealing the timeworn black stone beneath. The door, too, was ancient—its paint completely stripped away, exposing the dark yellow-black wood. Overhead hung a faded plaque bearing three characters: “Another View.”

Master Lin looked at Li Yu and smiled gently. “From now on, this is your home.”