Chapter 2
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Departure
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A moment later, the multicolored illusions were sucked one by one into a dazzling white whirlwind.
The dark mass below was also being absorbed into the vortex.
The vortex of light spun even more fiercely and brilliantly now.
A fragrance wafted from somewhere.
A clear melody, like crystals chiming together, began to flow.
It all came from within that vortex of light.
The pure white whirlwind spun to its limit, gradually becoming transparent.
His figure slowly emerged from within.
He was naked, but no longer the withered, twisted form of an old man.
His muscles and bones had realigned perfectly straight, and his skin glowed with radiance.
Thick black hair roots sprouted from his head and groin, and the wrinkles across his body vanished, replaced by smooth white skin.
Ah! A miracle was unfolding, beyond even ancient legends.
It was the simultaneous occurrence of Shedding Bones and Rebirth and Ascension by Transformation.
The now fully transparent whirlwind contracted to its smallest size, approaching his body before slowly seeping into it.
A moment later, all the light finally vanished.
He now floated about a yard off the ground.
Sunlight reclaimed its dominance, warmly illuminating his form.
His hair had grown to shoulder length in that time.
His entire body, wrapped in a white glow, had been reborn into a beauty rare in the world.
The fragrance emanating from him was Heavenly Peach Fragrance, something one could only smell in the heavens.
Around him, crystalline chimes like colliding jade rang out, dripping like falling water droplets.
The first part of his motionless body to stir was the middle finger of his right hand.
The finger twitched faintly before stopping, and his bowed head slowly lifted.
Finally, his eyes opened.
His irises, shimmering with rainbow hues, gazed vaguely ahead before erupting in a sudden burst of light, like an explosion.
The light then quietly subsided, and his calm eyes began scanning his surroundings.
A deep sigh escaped his lips first.
"Huu... To think the thread of fate would reconnect like this...."
His body slowly descended through the air.
But he did not touch the ground.
Halting two finger-widths above the earth, he simply stepped forward.
"This is a dire situation. You have the form of a man, yet you are no longer human."
Murmuring softly, he moved toward the remnants of the firewood pile that had burned away.
Amid the white ashes remained the pale traces of his wife, burned to nothing.
He quietly extended his hand, lifting the ashes and all mingled within them into the air.
With another gesture, they crumbled completely to dust, then scattered away on a breeze with a final wave.
"Darling, you'll have to wait a bit longer. It seems I still have unfinished business."
Turning, he slowly walked into the thatched hut where he had lived for decades.
His feet still never touched the ground.
"This is troublesome. What kind of situation is this...?"
Examining his body, he realized the problem.
His dantian was gone.
Startled as he instinctively tried to circulate his qi, he searched but found no trace of a dantian in his reborn body.
Instead, his previously faint upper dantian was now fully open.
That did not mean his inner energy had vanished.
If anything, an immense, unfathomable amount of it surged and danced through his meridians.
He simply had no idea yet how to control and wield it.
He spent the entire day seated on a bamboo chair in the hut, lost in thought.
Morning dawned again.
He had mulled over countless thoughts.
He had chosen complete self-annihilation.
Yet it had rebounded upon him in the exact opposite way.
He had never imagined such an outcome.
The realm he had reached before this miracle was already rare in the mortal world, but the one he had now attained was an unknown realm even to him.
Upper dantian fully open, lower dantian erased without a trace.
He had cast aside all greed and attachment, surrendering everything to the great nature, intending to leave the world—yet great nature had returned it all to him a hundredfold.
Through complete Shedding Bones and Rebirth, he had gained an entirely new body.
He had obtained the prime of youth, late teens to early twenties.
He had lost his lower dantian but gained the upper one.
Knowing that great nature's gift was anything but natural, he felt a dizzying premonition of the responsibilities and duties awaiting him.
He knew well that the world, the universe, operated under the absolute law of causality.
Nothing was given without reason in life.
Yet now, only his wife's dying words echoed in his mind.
"I want to live freely... you should live freely too."
'Live freely?'
The old man fell into reminiscence.
A life where he had never lived freely.
He had always lived by righteousness and chivalry, prioritizing the welfare of the common folk, holding loyalty above life itself.
'It was no fun at all.'
He smiled bitterly.
Suddenly, hunger struck.
He burst into laughter.
"Hahaha... Right. I'm alive, so I must eat. No matter how you live, you have to fill the mouth to survive. Hahaha...."
He opened the lids of the clay jars huddled in one corner of the single-room hut, scooped out rice, washed it, and lit a fire to cook.
He wolfed down a bamboo bowl of plain rice with salted bamboo shoots as a side, then packed his belongings.
This hut was no longer a place for him.
A few changes of clothes, a couple pairs of socks—then he wrapped his seven-stringed zither in plain cloth, slung it over his shoulder, and that was all his luggage.
He had never owned much, and it had been ages since he abandoned petty worldly desires.
Finally, he opened the small wooden box by his bedding.
First, a simple gold bracelet and a pair of gold earrings.
The first things he had ever bought for her after they met.
He held them for a moment, lost in thought, then tucked them into a pouch inside his robe.
What remained in the box was a single foldable fan.
The first gift she had ever given him.
They had been strolling a market street in Xingzhou when she bought it for him as a joke.
"You won't use this fan as an excuse to fool around, right?"
It was not yet the time of their marriage vow, but she had been resolute even then.
"If you do, I'll kill you. Hehe...."
Her mouth had smiled, but her eyes had not.
They were eyes so earnest they seemed sad.
If he had to name the reason he loved her, it was that gaze.
He unfolded the fan, double-sided as always.
It depicted plum tree branches with a few blossoms and a pair of birds perched side by side.
Gazing at it briefly, he folded it and tucked it into his left waist sash.
Then he set out.
The hut, now empty of everything, would crumble on its own, leaving no trace.
Whether he would ever return, even he did not know.
In any case, leaving behind the place where he had spent the longest years of his life—the bitterest and most wretched—he departed.
On his back dangled the cloth-wrapped seven-stringed zither, with a small bundle of clothes tied below.
He wore undyed, yellowish rough hemp garments and bamboo sandals strung with dried kudzu vines.
His figure, emerging from the courtyard, faded into the distance along a narrow path through the dense woods.
* * *
"Whoa! This darn swallow...."
A middle-aged man, startled by a swallow's wings brushing past his ear like an arrow, rubbed his earlobe and grumbled.
He was a portly fellow in splendid blue silk robes, with pale skin and narrow eyes that gave him a somewhat feminine air.
"Whew. Looks like I've finally wrapped up collecting this month's debts."
Muttering to himself, he pulled out a silk handkerchief and wiped his sweat as he continued on his way.
Yunjang Boulevard, the most prosperous street in Chengdu, was lined with shops, taverns, and restaurants, thronged with people.
Begging monks, scavenging beggars, young pickpockets—all busily about their trades. Wanderers from every corner hawked their skills to survive.
Some brandished swords and spears to show off their martial prowess before peddling dubious medicines; storytellers spun entertaining tales of ancient legends, myths, and heroic exploits; musicians played various instruments.
Yet this was a familiar sight, so he walked on without a glance—until the clear tones of a seven-stringed zither pierced the din.
Not loud, but in the midst of this chaotic, noisy boulevard, it rang out crystal clear.
It was remarkable.
Looking around, he saw no zither player.
But as he walked, he spotted dozens gathered, listening intently.
A great lover of zither music himself, he stopped and joined the crowd.
Unexpectedly, it was a young man.
Dressed in undyed gray hemp, with jet-black hair cascading down, head bowed in focus on his playing—a pale-faced youth with white hands.
Yet his zither playing was peerless.
Even to ears that had heard countless masters, this was a level beyond the ordinary.
Passersby stopped as if entranced, swelling the crowd.
After two or three more pieces, the young man lifted his hands from the zither and raised his head.
Sighs of admiration rose from the crowd.
Especially from the women.
Deep eyes, refined features, perfectly arched brows, red lips—a beauty rare in the world.
Yet he exuded a pure aura and noble grace, making it hard for ordinary folk to even approach.
Many tossed coins onto the plain cloth pouch laid before him, as they could afford.
As the crowd dispersed one by one, the youth gathered the coins, packed his zither, slung it on his back, and walked on.
His destination was not far.
Entering a small eatery in a nearby alley, he ordered a simple bowl of noodles topped only with blanched vegetables.
The man in blue silk from earlier approached his table.
He had followed him.
"Excuse me, young man. Mind if I join you for a moment?"