Jade Balance Peak collapsed, and the whole territory of Three Mountain City rumbled in shock.
Not far from Jade Balance Peak, Dou Yuemei, armored and battle-clad, abruptly turned and streaked back toward the city lord's manor.
She landed, shed her armor, and let her features ease.
"Go and bring Xi Xiaoyan back. There is no need for him to run so far anymore."
So she instructed, and with a light step walked into the study.
The commander of the city guard, who had kept watching over the manor, went from astonishment to delight, until at last tears rolled down his face.
"We go at once!"
City Lord Dou ... she had meant to settle Jade Balance Peak alone today.
After shutting herself away for so long, she had finally come to that decision.
Having seen off her daughter and her son one after another, she wiped away her rouge, donned her armor.
Alone, resolute, she meant to challenge that mountain once more.
The mountain she had chosen was not any peak beyond the walls, but the mountain in her heart.
Yet whether by fortune or misfortune, she would no longer need to go.
From now on, Upright Brush Peak stands clear, Jade Balance Peak has toppled, and within the territory of Three Mountain City there remains only a single source of ferocious beasts — Flying Over Peak.
With but a third of their former number, the beasts were no longer a burden that all of Three Mountain City could not bear.
...
...
On the road back to Maple City.
"All right!" White Lotus clasped her hands behind her back and hopped twice like a little girl. "What I am, you see, is whatever you take me to be!"
"I would rather not think about it." Jiang Chen clasped his fists in farewell. "I will take my leave."
"Hey." White Lotus spread her arms and barred his way. "Angry?"
"No."
"Then give me a smile."
"..."
"There, you see! Angry after all!"
Jiang Chen had no wish to wrangle, and said, resigned: "I must hurry home and look after my little sister."
"All you know is looking after your little sister; you pay no heed to her elder sister, is that so?"
"...Miss White Lotus, is there anything else?"
White Lotus looked at him, seeming to savor his helplessness, laughter gathering in her eyes.
"Sister..." her words shifted abruptly. "Nothing. You may go."
Jiang Chen found it wholly puzzling, but his heart was in turmoil, and to get away was naturally welcome. So he leapt off without the least hesitation.
"Truly a hard-hearted man." White Lotus watched his receding back and laughed softly.
At this moment her voice was still soft and warm.
But with a single turn, her bearing changed utterly.
The whole of her rose from the earth, and white flame kindled around her body. The fire burned, yet gave a chill, bitter feeling.
It was only now, from the direction of Jade Balance Peak, that a thundering shaft of black light came sweeping in.
White Lotus became like a meteor of white flame and dashed straight against it!
The black light scattered, revealing an old man in a white robe. His timeworn, wrinkled face seemed no different from any other elder's, but his long hair was jet-black, without a single white strand in sight.
He halted in the high air, reached out one hand, and an almost endless flood of black light poured from his palm, condensing into a giant hand that pressed down in a single strike.
But White Lotus had already folded back before the collision. Transformed into a stream of cold white light, she slipped between his fingers, darting straight to the east.
"Hmph."
The black-haired elder gave only a light snort, and without seeming to move, his body was already before the streak of light.
The cold white light, as if likewise prepared, doubled back and turned again.
Clearly lacking the patience of a cat toying with a mouse, the black-haired elder again stepped once to stand before the cold white light and closed his single hand.
Black light shot forth like ribbons of light, binding the white radiance in an instant.
The white light then held and burst, revealing a woman of graceful, lovely form.
But the black-haired elder only frowned, lifted a foot, and trod the void away into the distance.
At the same moment the woman dissolved like smoke — she had not been real at all.
...
Almost as White Lotus rose through the air wreathed in white flame, a white lotus seed fell to the ground.
While the cold white light fled, the seed sprouted in an instant and opened into a lotus flower that swelled rapidly.
White Lotus stood up from within that flower, smoothed the scene over with a wave of her hand, then skimmed low along the ground and sped away.
Not long after she had left, the black-haired elder landed there, lifted his gaze to sweep the surroundings, and what figure was there left to see?
Beneath his command was a master of tracking. On Jade Balance Peak the man had caught a wisp of a vital breath and pointed out its direction. So the elder had set out in pursuit, but the crafty woman, with a false body to delay him briefly and no more, had cost him her trail completely.
Waited now for that tracking master to come, it was already too late.
He was not angry, and only let out a long, long sigh.
...
Jiang Chen returned home with a heavy heart, and doing nothing else, went straight to lie down on his bed.
His time was always full; apart from the hours spent with Jiang An'an, he had rarely a free moment.
Whether the Essence Control Art, the Four-Spirit Body Refining Art, or the Violet Dawn Sword Art, all demanded vast stretches of time in practice, and the nurturing of Dao essence was slow work built up day by day.
But now he wanted to do nothing at all.
One instant his thoughts were of the State of Zhuang. For the death of Zhuo Lie, the State of Zhuang's envoy had, not long ago, been humiliated in Chu; the Dao Academy supported its disciples with resources; Dean Dong had counseled him with all sincerity to cultivate well and, in days to come, serve the state...
The next instant they were also of the State of Zhuang — the reek of hearth and home he had seen and heard passing through streets and alleys, the industrious farmers, the hunters and herb gatherers who braved death, the uncounted common folk who could not protect themselves before the ferocious beasts.
Even now, he did not know whether his choice on Jade Balance Peak had been right or wrong.
Jiang Chen had always, since childhood, been one with firm opinions. To enter the Dao Academy, he would spare no hardship, leaving home young. To see the scenery of soaring through the heavens, he had walked on to where he stood today.
He had always had a firm goal and a firm stride — it was only now, at this moment, that he felt lost.
The State of Zhuang was the state that had given him life and raised him; of course he loved it.
But were the choices he had made truly love for that state?
He had no answer.
...
Just then, he heard a crane's cry and looked toward the window.
A ball of white cloud drifted down, condensing into a small crane that circled the courtyard a few times, seemingly without any hostility.
Somewhat puzzled, Jiang Chen pushed open the door and went out. The little cloud crane flapped its wings, flew to him, and turned into an envelope that drifted down.
He tore open the soft, fine envelope. Inside were an elegantly designed invitation and a sheet of paper of the same material.
Upon it was written —
Daoist friend Jiang:
Since we parted at Jade Balance, nearly a month has passed.
Awaiting you long and you come not, I judge the green rain lacking in sincerity.
On the sixteenth of the twelfth month, at the Cloud River Fair. I beg one meeting, to repay your great kindness.
Should you see a cloud crane, please send back word.
The signature read: Cloud-drift Green Rain.
When Jiang Chen finished reading, a wisp of cloud air rose from the letter, coiling into the shape of a brush, hanging before him — as if urging Jiang Chen to answer. And the words on the cloud letter had already faded.
It occurred to him that Ye Qingyu, a favored daughter of heaven like this, had never once owed a debt of gratitude. When she had given away the Cloud Command Token back then, it was in hope of settling accounts as cleanly as possible. Had it been anyone who knew the name of the Lingxiao Pavilion, they would already have planned how to use that token — a peerless art, a treasure of cultivation. But Jiang Chen had never thought twice about it; in fact, because of its beautiful appearance, he had given the token to Jiang An'an, who locked it away in her little chest with the rest of the presents she had received.
Jiang Chen did not know what scale of gathering the Cloud River Fair was, but he could guess it must be a wondrous assortment of rarities. Ye Qingyu's intent was presumably to help Jiang Chen choose some treasure at that fair, the better to set her conscience at ease.
But Jiang Chen truly did not feel he owed Ye Qingyu any great kindness. He had later heard of Ye Qingyu's arts and treasures, and guessed that even had he not intervened back then, she could have escaped with ease.
To say nothing of the fact that the master of the Lingxiao Pavilion would surely equip his only daughter with means of self-preservation?
Moreover, Jiang Chen was not one to exploit a favor and exact recompense.
So he took up the cloud brush at once and wrote:
A trifling help, hardly worth mentioning. I have a young sister at home and cannot travel far. The mountains are high, the waters long — we shall meet again on the rivers and lakes.
Matters ought to have ended there, with the cloud crane flying back to wherever it belonged of its own accord.
But on some whim and impulse, Jiang Chen lifted the brush to add one line more.
And this line was far simpler, far more casual:
I have a question. To do a wrong thing for a right purpose — is that right?