Chapter Two: Two People with Especially Bad Luck

A long caravan of vehicles trailed grandly behind one man as it drifted through the air. It was fortunate that the mountains were sparsely inhabited; otherwise, a new legend might well have been born.

After hurling himself away in a fit of rage, he came back again. Only after his anger had mostly burned itself out did he remember the mission his chief had given him. It was a death sentence of a task, and he had to see it through.

Just as he was fretting over it, a sudden flash of insight struck him. He remembered how the greeter taoist had once muttered something that seemed offhand: “What a pity about this pear-blossom and greenwood table.” And then everything became clear. Wasn’t that just a hint that they wanted money?

At last Zhou Yihu understood. If he had shown up empty-handed, they certainly would not have been pleased. That was how things worked in Black Cloud Stronghold too: with money and gifts, business was easy. A holy land still had to eat, after all. Thinking of it that way, it all seemed perfectly natural. But contempt was inevitable. A place that called itself a sacred haven of medicine, a dwelling of immortals—wasn’t it really no different from Black Cloud Stronghold? All the same, really.

But their reputation was good. He would have to go back and advise his chief properly, suggest a change in the stronghold’s air, maybe even start with the name and call it White Cloud Stronghold instead.

For a moment, Zhou Yihu was filled with emotion.

Seven or eight vehicles descended upon Crane-Shouldering Peak, leaving the disciples of Old Yellow Mountain staring in utter astonishment. Zhou Yihu rested for a while before he managed to calm the flow of his breath and energy. Controlling so many vehicles was no easy matter, and even with his mortal-transcending cultivation, he could not avoid feeling somewhat overstretched. Still, this move served two purposes at once: it delivered a lavish gift, and it also sent the message that Zhou Yihu was not someone to be trifled with.

“Chief Zhou, what do you mean by this?” Qing Song asked after a long pause, stepping closer.

Zhou Yihu chuckled. “The few vehicles at the front are for all of you fellow daoists. The one behind is for the elders of your sect. They’re only ordinary things, a small token to count as medical expenses for Brother Wu. Daoist Qing Song, surely you won’t refuse me?”

“You think our Old Yellow Mountain lacks these things?” Qing Song said irritably.

So this was how it was—making use of an opening to step down from a difficult situation. Zhou Yihu considered himself fully enlightened. He patted Qing Song on the shoulder and said, “Young nephew Qing Song, I’m not criticizing you, but if you’re not the one footing the bill, you don’t know how expensive rice and firewood are. Still, of course I know Old Yellow Mountain doesn’t lack such things, so I’m treating them as a meeting gift. Nothing more.”

He had even changed the way he addressed Qing Song. The meaning was plain enough: I’ve already seen through you, and I’ve given you a way out, so let’s not drag this on.

Qing Song could only feel helpless, and at the same time wanted to ask: how does your brain even work? How did someone like this manage to cultivate all the way to mortal-transcending? Heaven truly is unfair.

“Has Brother Wu’s chill gone down now?” Zhou Yihu asked, deliberately emphasizing the words “chill” with heavy stress.

Qing Song sighed, but had no choice but to tell the truth. “Fellow Daoist Wu’s chill has eased somewhat. He’s fit to receive visitors now. I’ll have someone invite him out at once.” With that, he called over a disciple.

Hearing this, Zhou Yihu felt another wave of disdain. So now he was fit to receive guests, was he? Yet on his face he still wore a smile, the sort that could be seen through at a glance.

The afternoon before.

Inside the small wooden hut were Wu Yue and Mount Tai Hall; within Mount Tai Hall was Azure Jade, so in effect there were two people. And the two of them had even gained a new result: they had managed to let Azure Jade hear voices other than Wu Yue’s from outside, which made him deeply gratified.

Wu Yue said he understood completely. Azure Jade, with great scorn, replied, “You understand a damn thing.”

But that was the end of the harvest. Azure Jade’s only conversation partner was still Wu Yue.

Wu Yue also felt that Azure Jade was becoming increasingly abnormal. For instance, he would suddenly shout in the middle of the night, or sing songs Wu Yue could not understand in the slightest. Sometimes he would even recite poems.

One day Wu Yue finally could not hold it in any longer and asked, “Old Qing, what on earth is wrong with you?”

Azure Jade was silent for a long while, then said very calmly, “Idleness leaves no way to pass the days.”

That was all. No great Dao laws, no spiritual energy. No secluded cultivation to ponder in silence, no arts to evolve. Wu Yue could hear, very clearly, a faint sorrow that belonged to an old man of a hundred years.

Recently, however, Azure Jade had found a new amusement: mocking Wu Yue to no end.

“Tsk, tsk. A cultivator catching a chill—never heard of such a thing in all ages. And bedridden for more than half a month, too. Truly, I am in awe.”

Wu Yue shot back just as sharply. “A mortal-transcending expert singing like a wolf at midnight, maybe even dancing in there for all I know—that would be a first in the entire span of history as well.”

Unnoticed, the two of them were slowly changing.

“Though I don’t know what you keep doing out there every night, don’t you think your luck is especially poor? The autumn rains may be lingering, but they’ve grown especially heavy once night falls. Or else the sky is clouded for thousands of miles. Isn’t that a little strange?” Azure Jade asked.

He had been far too idle, so his observations were especially meticulous. Every time Wu Yue went out, he insisted on taking Mount Tai Hall with him. It wasn’t that he was afraid of losing it; rather, he simply thought that if anything unforeseen happened, perhaps Mount Tai Hall might suddenly prove useful. And if nothing else, there was an old hand inside it—no, an old expert.

Wu Yue had originally intended to mock him as usual, but after thinking it over carefully, he was suddenly struck with alarm.

It seemed that ever since arriving here, he had been either seriously injured, recovering, then seriously injured again. In any case, his wounds only ever grew worse, one layer deeper than the last. Even when he borrowed the power of the stars, the weather had been overcast and gloomy for days on end.

Could it be that he truly had been abandoned by heaven and earth?

To contend with heaven was endlessly glorious. To contend with earth was endlessly glorious. It sounded bold and magnificent enough—but when one truly ran into it, it was enough to make a person go mad.

Wu Yue kept a dark face and waited patiently until nightfall.

The day had been fine from beginning to end, and the night was ordinarily studded with stars. Wu Yue, brimming with energy, no longer bothered concealing himself. He found a secluded corner and set up the summoning formation. He did not ask for success; he only wanted to prove that he was not so detested by gods and spirits after all.

Two hours later, Wu Yue returned in a dazed and dispirited state, and a rainstorm came without warning.

“Boy, what’s wrong with you?” Azure Jade noticed something was off and suddenly asked. Even the usual teasing was gone. In the end, they were both grasshoppers tied to the same rope—and he was still the one underneath.

Wu Yue did not answer. His head had begun to heat up again, and that familiar feeling of dizziness returned.

During the day, the disciple returned and whispered into Qing Song’s ear. Qing Song said, “What a misfortune. Fellow Daoist Wu was caught in the rain last night and is now asleep and unable to wake.”

Zhou Yihu’s expression stiffened. He forced himself to speak calmly. “This time we were a little lacking in preparation. I will surely bring generous gifts when I come again.”

Then he leaped down from the cliff once more.

“Don’t misunderstand, Fellow Daoist Zhou. It’s true,” Qing Song hurriedly called after him.

But how could he possibly stop a mortal-transcending cultivator from jumping off a cliff?

Hearing the wind howl past his ears, Zhou Yihu began to roar incessantly.