Xuanjian Xianzu

Chapter 1354 Thank you
Qingdu Mountain.

"Boom!"

The melodious sound of bells echoed through the mountains, and the fine rain accompanied the sound as it rustled through the leaves. On the weathered bluestone path, figures hurried by, and a burly man strode forward with a grim expression.

Li Zhouda had returned from the north long ago, his journey hurried. This cultivator, who had fought for many years, was incapable of affectation; his emotions were still readily apparent. He turned his head and whispered:
Where is Fourth Brother?

The man closely following him was clad in armor; it was Li Suikuan, who had just returned from the lakeside. The young man lowered his head and said:
"A letter was sent to the palace a few days ago, but there has been no reply yet..."

Li Zhouda was never one to tolerate others, and he would scold those of higher seniority without hesitation. Even though his elder brother was of extremely high status, he still sighed and said:
"I think... he's gotten used to being the Marquis of Anyang. It doesn't matter if he doesn't come back usually. We know him. The only thing is... we can't even get him to come back for the old master's business!"

Li Suikuan was startled by his words, looked around, and quickly reassured him:

"Please calm down, sir... The two places are far apart. Whether you are in seclusion or cultivating in seclusion, there will always be times when you cannot be reached. Besides, my uncle is also on the lake. It's not appropriate to say such things..."

Upon hearing him mention Li Jiangchun, the disappointment in Li Zhouda's eyes subsided slightly, and he simply said:
"Jiang Chun is good; she knows to come back early..."

Li Suikuan dared not agree again, but led him upstairs. There, they encountered a woman in the mountains. She was of noble birth, middle-aged, with gray hair, and was staring at Li Zhouda. She said softly:

"The Marquis of Anyang has already arrived, and Jiang Chun went to the lakeside to greet him... You still haven't learned your lesson!"

Li Zhouda, however, disliked his elder brother because he was often away from home enjoying a comfortable life in other places. He wore his heart on his sleeve and shook his head, saying:
“Ding Mu came three months early and tried to pay his respects several times, but he’s still waiting at the foot of the mountain. How can he, as a direct descendant, be so late? No one dares to say anything to him now, but I dare to.”

More people came up from the mountain, so Li Minggong couldn't say anything more to him. He sighed and said in a low voice:
"Come with me upstairs..."

The higher you go, the quieter it becomes. The rain outside is incessant and bitterly cold. In the quiet hall to the side, several people are talking in hushed tones. Without a doubt, it must be that elder brother, Li Zhoufang.

As the biological father of Li Queyi and Li Jiangzong, this elder brother now holds a high position in the clan, but he has not been involved in much affairs in recent years.

On the outside was Li Queyi, wiping the corner of his eye and talking to Xia Shouyu beside him.

The main hall had black roof tiles, high vermilion walls, and was made of polished bluestone. The hall doors were tightly closed. The young master, who usually wore red, was wearing a black outer robe for the first time. He sat on the steps looking helpless. Sun Bai, holding a medicine pot, sat silently beside him.

Li Zhouda whispered:

Where did everyone go?

Li Suikuan also spoke in a low voice:
"Uncle Jiang and Brother Sui are still making preparations down the mountain. Several people came up earlier, but many were persuaded to come down. These days, the old master prefers peace and quiet..."

"Too…"

Li Zhouda finally fell silent. He bowed and quietly walked to the ancestral hall. There was a great array protecting the place, so he could only look inside through the open window. He saw the old man kneeling in the center, looking like he was curled up, leaving him with only his back.

The figure was so small, like a huddled skeleton covered in a layer of skin, shivering in the wind.

Li Zhouda immediately turned his head, took two steps back, and moved to the side. This decisive and straightforward man covered his face and cried silently.

"Clap!"

The rain in the mountains intensified, pounding against the eaves. The silvery light reflected off the temple. A woman with a bead on her forehead stepped out, and everyone froze, about to rise and pay their respects.

Li Quewan raised her hand and gently stopped everyone's movements. Behind her, in the colorful clouds, stood two people, one old and one young, one noble and otherworldly, the other as elegant as an immortal.

It was Li Zhoulu and his son.

Li Zhoulu had changed his clothes specifically for this trip. Dressed simply in black, he stepped forward, glanced at the window, and quickly retreated. After taking a few steps, he spotted his cousin sitting at the bottom of the steps.

The two men looked at each other and found that each other's faces were covered in tears. Although the man had been cursing at his brother earlier, upon seeing him, it seemed that he didn't need to say anything anymore and didn't care about anything else. He grabbed the man's hand and burst into tears.

Li Quewan did not come forward. She took a step and stood to the side in front of the main hall to greet him. After only a few breaths, she saw the bright light of the sky rise from the horizon and approach at an alarming speed. However, it stopped when it reached the mountain and transformed into a man in a white-gold Taoist robe. He floated down lightly, without even scattering the rain in the sky.

Li Ximing.

"Grand Uncle!"

Li Quewan called out, but Li Ximing, who always valued her, was already lost in thought. He hurriedly nodded and stepped forward. The young master guarding the palace gate quickly rose, knelt on the ground, and wept:

"Big father!"

The arrival of this living, closest sage to Li Xuanxuan was a great relief, drawing all eyes to him. Li Ximing said:
"How is it?"

Li Quewan whispered to the side:

“These days… the old master has been out of sight. He only goes out on clear days, and even then, he never goes beyond these two main halls. Sometimes, when he’s halfway down the mountain, he reminisces about the past, and my uncle hires an opera troupe to perform for him…”

During these days, Li Zhouming stayed by the old man's side constantly, waiting at the entrance of the ancestral hall at any time. Whenever the old man went out for a walk, he would bring over all the good things from the lake. He would even personally perform singing, reciting, acting, and fighting, just to win the old man's attention...

Over the past few days, his complexion had become much paler, and he no longer used any cosmetics. These were the more subtle details that he was most aware of, and he wept as he said:
“The old ancestor… is confused and doesn’t remember very well. When I go in wearing white, the old man calls me ‘Ping’er.’ If I wear black, he calls me ‘Yuan Jiao’… Sometimes he gets it wrong and asks me… asks me… if the Shan Yue have invaded our territory again.”

He wiped away his tears and said:
"Later, the old man even stopped taking his medicine and sealed off the main hall day after day, from which there were always various noises..."

Li Ximing's heart trembled. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, turned around, and said:
"You may all leave now."

In an instant, everyone retreated, leaving only Li Quewan, Li Jiangchun, and a few others. Li Zhouming took two steps, but was stopped by this master.

Li Ximing said in a low voice:
"You shall also stay and wait in front of the palace."

He pushed open the door and went in quietly. He found the lights were bright and the incense was very strong. The old man was kneeling on the prayer mat and still did not react. So he turned around and used his supernatural powers to seal off the inside and outside.

The heavy rain and sobbing outside had not disturbed the old man at all, but the moment the supernatural power sealed the main hall, it seemed to touch his soul, causing the old man to tremble and straighten up.

"Who?"

Hoarseness.

"Father..."

Li Ximing took a step forward and saw the old man straightening up.

Li Xuanxuan was extremely thin.

He could vaguely remember that when he was learning to speak, Li Xuanxuan doted on him. Li Xuanxuan had a kind face, and people said he was blessed. Li Xuanxuan took his small hand in his, and it was warm and rough, with calluses on his fingertips from holding a talisman brush for many years.

But now, when that face is raised, it is as thin as a skeleton, with unsightly, uneven curves protruding from the skin. The clothes hang loosely on his body, and the outstretched hand looks like a layer of skin hanging on a reed stalk, light and brittle.

Those eyes were embedded in the skull, like those of a ghost—this body, patched and mended, worn down year after year, could no longer bear his soul.

Li Ximing trembled. He reached out, trying to use his supernatural powers to maintain his body, but the old man shook his head slightly but firmly. His tongue seemed numb and his speech was indistinct.

"Tomorrow..."

He saw his grandfather take out what he had been holding in his arms.

That was a bow.

Its entire body was jet black, weathered by time, and had been infused with the tendons of some unknown minor demon. Its bones had long since disintegrated, its spiritual energy was so faint as to be almost nonexistent, and its strings were loosely strung.

【Azure Crow Bow】.

The old man's body seemed to have long since collapsed, but he respectfully held the bow, which rested against his waist and abdomen, allowing him to lie on the ground in a half-kneeling position. Li Ximing's eyes reddened instantly. He ignored the old man's words and held his hands, using his last bit of life force to keep him alive.

Li Xuanxuan took a breath, slowly regained his composure, and even smiled. He said softly:

“In the past… members of my Li clan passed away peacefully, some like Zhongfu and Xuanfeng, with foresight, pointing out a smooth path for you; some like Ping'er and Xicheng, who managed their families for many years and wrote books that have been passed down through generations; some like Yuanjiao and Xijun, who fought bravely, striving for a chance to advance…”

"But I, Li Xuanxuan, have always been mediocre, barely surviving until now. My talismanic skills are now nothing more than the stuff of a street-side rogue cultivator, not worth mentioning..."

He said softly:

“Zhou Wei and Jiang Qian are outside, Que Wan and you are inside, and below them are Sui Huan, Jiang Zong, and Sui Ning and these children. The lineage is orderly, and I can go back and explain to the adults… There is only one thing.”

Li Ximing looked up to listen, and Li Xuanxuan murmured:
“Xuanfeng… has another child outside, Qinghong knows about it… He told me back then… I don’t have a chance anymore…”

"Xi Ming has noted it down..."

Li Ximing answered, and Li Xuanxuan stared at him blankly several times, breathing heavily, his lips regaining strength, but his eyes slowly reddened:
“Tomorrow, I should go back… Tomorrow… My father died in that courtyard, my mother lay on that bed, my father died at the village entrance… and… my second father… he died on that hill, and…”

He suddenly burst into tears:

“Xiu’er…my son! He’s there too…he’s still in the thunder and fire. I should go back, tomorrow…”

Li Ximing knew where he was talking about—that small village, that little courtyard built of bluestone. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he said hoarsely:

"I'll take you back..."

But the old man suddenly shook his head, took two deep breaths, and said:
"You still need me... I can't leave tomorrow."

Li Ximing didn't know how to respond, so he just swallowed his tears and saw the old man raise his head and look at the dimly lit, dark red memorial tablet high above.

The spirit tablet of the late Mr. Li, whose given name was Mutian.

The rain outside was heavy, pounding loudly against the eaves. Li Xuanxuan slowly regained his spirits, straightened up, and said:
“Ximing…you are the most promising…it is the Li family’s good fortune to have you.”

Li Ximing stood rooted to the spot. These words seemed utterly ordinary, yet they brought tears to his eyes. He opened his mouth, but only managed to utter a few awkward words:

"Father..."

At this moment, he seemed to care about nothing else. He wanted to take out the Purple Mansion Spiritual Objects and the Heavenly Pure Essence and feed them to the old man right now, but he also understood the old man's determination, so he could only stand there blankly.

Li Xuanxuan withdrew his hand from the immortal's grasp, no longer accepting the life force he was transmitting. He simply gazed gently at Li Ximing and said:
"Ming'er, you may leave now... Let... Zhou Ming in."

This was the final moment. Whether he was a real person or a sword immortal, the old man did not see anyone he had placed his hopes on or who had protected his clan. Instead, he called out the name of the younger generation who had always been by his side for many years.

Li Ximing knew this was the old man's last look. He walked slowly to the front of the hall, turning back every few steps, and finally heard his grandfather laugh:

"Tomorrow... I'm leaving today. Please take care of things at home."

"Yes."

"crunch..."

The muffled sound of rain suddenly intensified, but with the light footsteps, it quickly returned to a dull, distant clamor. The old man knelt quietly until the young man walked right up to him.

Li Zhouming.

The notorious playboy, as everyone knew, removed both of his robes, leaving only his undergarments of white, and quietly, even somewhat serenely, knelt beside the old man, whispering:

"Ancestor."

Li Zhouming had taken care of the old man throughout his later years and knew his every possession intimately. In a moment of looking down, he somehow discovered something unfamiliar beside the prayer mat.

Those were a pair of golden balls.

This golden pill was no bigger than a medicinal pill, and it seemed to be made of metal. There was nothing special about it. There were faint patterns flowing on its surface, and it was also stained with a little bit of reddish-blue stuff.

In the instant he was pondering this, Li Xuanxuan raised his head, his eyes gazing at him intently, and said softly:
“Ming’er…you are intelligent. The gap between immortals and mortals is difficult to bridge. Yuan Yun cannot see through it, nor can your father. Yet you are able to let go. Favor and disgrace, rise and fall, are not easily accepted. Yet you are willing to bow your head. If there is any downfall in the future, only your eyes will see it…”

Li Zhouming's thoughts were abruptly interrupted, and he broke out in a cold sweat. He stared intently at the old man before him, but as their eyes met, this usually spoiled young master calmed down and said in a hoarse voice:
"Ancestor, is it because you hate the passing of time?"

The old man did not answer him. His thin, frail hand rested on the young man's body, and with his other hand he stretched forward and took a small, empty scroll from the young man's waist.

This thing resembled a bamboo cup, yet it was as deep as a bamboo scroll. Inside were tokens of various sizes, each about an inch wide. Under the dim light, the names of the musical pieces could be vaguely seen written in ink.

The old man tucked the item into his robes and whispered:
"Let's go."

Li Zhouming stood up, kowtowed twice, and respectfully withdrew. The palace door closed, isolating the inside from the outside. Only then did the old man manage to stand up and stagger to the candlelight.

He took a couple of breaths, unable to blow out the candle, so he raised his hand and pressed it out with his fingers. Then, holding onto the edge of the table, he extinguished all the candles in the hall one by one in order.

Outside, a torrential downpour shrouded the area in darkness, plunging the entire hall into darkness. Only the old man's sharp eyes gleamed. He knelt back on the prayer mat and kowtowed.
“Li Xuanxuan, a member of the Li family.”

He said softly and hoarsely:
"Now that my worldly duties are complete, I offer my thanks to the Moon."