Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Seventy-Six: The Rejuvenation Pill

There’s a saying: you never know whether tomorrow or an accident will come first. And another saying is equally true: the only constant in this world is change.

Xu Kaijiang had thought that the people from the Myriad Beasts Sect had finally decided to leave him alone. Seeing that they hadn’t come to bother him for several days, he assumed they considered him nothing more than a petty figure, unworthy of their attention, and thus, beneath their notice. He even secretly rejoiced for a time.

He never expected that this quiet delight would be so fleeting, dissolving soon after in endless wails of despair.

That day, Xu Kaijiang had gone down to the ferry crossing to see what the commotion was about. He’d intended to seek out Li Yu, but upon seeing Zhou Ce and the others at Li Yu’s side, he halted, reconsidered, and quietly slipped away. He watched the lively scene from afar, then went about his own affairs.

Meanwhile, with all the local dignitaries summoned to the City Lord’s Manor, several young disciples of the Myriad Beasts Sect set out to cause trouble for Xu Kaijiang.

Zhang Yue herself had not wished to go. She thought focusing on Xu Kaijiang was a foolish waste of time. No, to be precise, she’d only wanted to nudge Wan Kui and Wan Yanyan to act, while she remained aloof and watched from the sidelines, ready to seize any advantage when tigers fought and the fisherman reaped the spoils.

Her real intention was to observe Li Yu more closely, seeking to claim the Dragon Spirit within him for her own.

Unfortunately, Wan Yanyan was in an odd mood that day, insisting Zhang Yue accompany them. Zhang Yue had finally gotten a chance to act independently, only for it to be ruined.

The three of them made their way to Xu Kaijiang’s home. In the past few days, they’d arranged for someone to shadow Xu Kaijiang and had come to know the circumstances of his household inside out.

Xu Kaijiang’s mother was bedridden, and he lived with her, the two of them relying on each other. According to their informant, Xu Kaijiang treated his mother with utmost care, always giving her the best of whatever little food he managed to obtain.

He spent nearly all he earned on her, yet even so, her condition showed no improvement. The medicine Li Yu had provided was good, but no medicine, however miraculous, could help one whose heart had settled on death.

Xu Kaijiang remembered what Li Yu had told him: if the medicine brought any improvement, he would continue his treatment; but if it only kept her barely alive, it was best to prepare for the worst.

When the trio arrived at Xu Kaijiang’s home, they were greeted by a scene of utter dilapidation—a ramshackle courtyard, a rundown house, and all manner of odds and ends scattered about. There was little of value, the whole place radiating a sense of desolation.

Unlike other homes, where chickens and ducks bustled and livestock abounded, there was no sign of life here—save Xu Kaijiang and his mother. Not even a mouse would linger in this place.

Wan Yanyan looked at the courtyard with open distaste. She, the eldest daughter of the Myriad Beasts Sect, had never set foot in such squalor, let alone sought out someone who dwelled in it.

Wan Kui was equally unimpressed. He frowned, gave the courtyard a cursory glance, and walked straight in.

Passing through to the house, they found the interior dim and gloomy, with only a meager shaft of light piercing through the window, mirroring their own bleak prospects.

A musty odor filled the air, as if an old, unwashed quilt, hung for years in the main room, provided the only ornament and sense of age.

Pinching their noses, the three surveyed the room, its meager furnishings matching the courtyard’s shabbiness.

They moved into another room and saw a woman lying on the bed; they knew immediately she was Xu Kaijiang’s mother.

“It seems Xu Kaijiang isn’t here,” said Zhang Yue.

“He’s probably at the ferry crossing,” Wan Kui replied.

“So do we wait, or…?” Wan Yanyan asked, glancing at the woman on the bed, her expression unreadable.

“No need. It’s better if he isn’t here,” Wan Kui said.

He gestured for Zhang Yue to step forward and feed the woman a pill.

The pill’s effect was more immediate than Li Yu’s medicine. Moments after swallowing the black pill, the woman awoke.

At first, she was disoriented, but as her mind cleared, she heard a voice say, “It’s good you’re awake. Now we can talk.”

Xu Kaijiang’s mother sat up and looked at the three before her. Their fine clothing and bearing marked them as anything but common townsfolk.

She was a woman of some experience. In her youth, she had seen people from the great sects, and she knew that those born to wealth and privilege developed a poise that ordinary folk could never hope to match.

She remembered being ill—gravely so. At times of lucidity, she knew it was her son’s tireless efforts that kept her alive. She was grateful for his filial piety, but also pained that he was sacrificing his future for her sake.

She had considered death, but even dying required a strength she no longer possessed. Her final breath had been sustained by medicine her son had somehow procured. She could not even end things and release both herself and her son from this burden.

But today was different. She felt her strength returning and quickly understood that the three young visitors were responsible.

Xu Kaijiang’s mother climbed from the bed, knelt on the floor, and respectfully said, “Thank you, immortals, for your gift of medicine.”

The three were both surprised and admiring of her awareness. “Don’t misunderstand,” Wan Kui said. “We cannot save you. Your fate is sealed. The Rejuvenation Pill we gave you is only to grant you a final burst of vitality, turning your last breath into the energy to walk your final path with dignity.”

“I am deeply grateful for this chance,” she replied humbly. “But may I ask, what is it you require of me?”

Zhang Yue found herself respecting the woman—not so much for her composure, but for her clear understanding that nothing in this world is free. Her every word and deed revealed her wisdom.

Wan Kui said, “You are indeed perceptive. What we require is simple. We wish to take your son with us, but the rules of Tianmen Town forbid us from taking anyone unwilling. Your son’s only weakness, or rather, his only attachment, is you. Do you understand what I mean?”

Relief washed over the woman’s face. She had feared the three might harbor darker intentions. But the revelation eased her heart; if her death could purchase a bright future for her son, she considered it a bargain.

“I understand. Truly, it’s our family who profits from this. But I have nothing else with which to repay you, save the deepest bows of gratitude.”

She knocked her forehead to the floor several times.

“You have less than a day left,” Wan Kui said. “At sunrise tomorrow, your final energy will be spent.”

The woman nodded, acknowledging her fate.

As they were about to leave, Zhang Yue couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t hate us, even a little? If we hadn’t given you that pill, you might have lingered on in this world. But now, your life is measured in hours.”

For the first time, the woman smiled, her gaze warm and reflective. “I do not hate you. In fact, I’m grateful—I will finally stop being a burden to my son. And you will take him away, won’t you? For him, leaving is the best path. Better that than clinging to life and dragging him down with me.”

Once outside, Wan Yanyan asked, “Senior brother, is she truly unafraid of death?”

Wan Kui pondered before replying, “Perhaps she once was. But now, there are things she fears more than death. In comparison, death is nothing.”

Zhang Yue added, “The love of a parent for a child is boundless. She is paving her son’s way with her own life.”

Wan Yanyan snorted with laughter. “Mortals are amusing. Here we are scheming against her son, and she still thinks we’re doing him a favor. How foolish mortals are.”

Wan Kui said nothing, but Zhang Yue shot her a look of contempt, as if to say, “The real fool here is you.”

It was no wonder Wan Yanyan mocked mortals—they had all been raised in luxury, shielded from hardship, enveloped in flattery and admiration from birth. Even Wan Kui, though adopted, had long since forgotten whatever bitterness his early years may have held.

They remembered only their days of ease, and could not comprehend the choices Xu’s mother made between life and death for her son’s sake.

But Zhang Yue, moved by what she had seen, found herself reflecting on her past. For a fleeting moment, she hesitated, questioning whether all her scheming was worth it or if she even remembered her original intent.

Yet such thoughts vanished as quickly as they came. In the face of future prospects, even guilt must be set aside. Everything was subordinate to her own future.

After the trio departed, no one spared another thought for Xu Kaijiang’s mother.

Once the effects of the Rejuvenation Pill had stabilized her, she gazed around the house she had lived in for decades, her eyes gentle and warm.

Then her gaze darkened, lost in thought.

Some things, when viewed through the lens of years, leave nothing but faint sighs and bittersweet reflections, no matter how much regret or resentment once lingered.

She stood, closed the door to the main hall, joined her hands in a ritual gesture, and a dazzling light flared, enveloping her.

When the light faded, a box appeared on the beam above the hall.

She took the box in her hands, her eyes brimming with memories, her fingers tracing the patterns on its surface.

“Forgive me, my husband,” she murmured. “For the sake of Ah Jiang, I must go against your wishes and leave this for him. As for what he chooses, that will be up to him. I simply can’t bear to deny him even the chance to choose.”