Chapter Text
Immortal Master
The candles had gone out, leaving the two room house dark. Light from the window revealed two adult figures hunched over the table. Their skin rot to the bone. Sloughs of decayed flesh drooped in clumpy patches.
His parents had died.
Was it illness?
The light from the window became brighter until it ignited into flames.
A fire.
To burn away all the illness.
No one wanted to get any closer to check to make sure all the inhabitants were dead. The boy escaped to the high reeds behind the small house around the crowd. They argued over choosing someone to check, decided against it, and then dispersed. The boy hid behind the small house and watched the mob vanish down the dirt road. Once confident they were gone, he waddled out of the reeds, and walked.
He walked for days, on and on. Unclear of the direction. Each one looked the same, like Death beckoning on each path. ‘Rest’. His mother used to say him when he expressed fear of mortality. 'A final rest' she called it. There was nothing to fear because it comes for everyone.
It had come so soon...
Walking on and on.
The cloth shoes left bits of burlap within the stretches of muddy dirt already traveled and he continued on with bare feet.
Walking on and on. No destination in mind. Except one. The most natural one of all.
When he felt it come for him, he stopped. He glanced around at unfamiliar fields, so far away from home.
The boy slid into a ditch and rested his body. He laid his hands over his starving frame in surrender. Sleepy.
The lithe, graceful steps of a woman in pristine, white robes tapped near his ears. A gentle hand caressed his sunken cheeks before offering it. The boy reached out and took it.
They walked hand in hand from the ditch in the reeds.
“What is your name?”
“Baoshan Sanren. What’s yours?”
“Xiao. Xiao Xingchen.”
Down the Mountain
“Shixiong, why do you want to go down the mountain?”
Xiao Xingchen kowtowed to his Master. She was preparing to wander the Celestial Mountains again, accompanied by a few disciples. She only repeated their rule of not returning and acknowledged his respects.
The rest of his shidi and shimei tended to their studies within their mountainous compound. They cared for him, of course, but the Master’s teaching was plain.
Do not bother with the secular world.
The moment their Shixiong announced that he was leaving the mountain, he became a part of the secular world and they no longer needed to pay any attention to him.
He made the rounds to each fellow disciple to say ‘goodbye’. He half-expected a plea to stay, at least from one of his juniors, but none came. They merely clasped their hands together and wished him a safe journey. Only one junior, the very last one, asked him "why?"
I want to save others.
This junior looked at him up and down, filed away a thought, and smiled softly. Then she returned to her studies at her small stone desk. At the entrance of the Baoshan Sanren’s Celestial Mountain, his feet hesitated to leave, the same way he hesitated to enter 13 years prior.
With Shuanghua, he flew down the mountain.
If I’m going to wander, why not wander the world below?
He had vague memories of his previous life. His parents died young. He became a disciple of Master Baoshan Sanren when he was 4. He hardly remembered anything other than comforting arms if his family and the burning fire that claimed his home.
The world must have changed a great deal since he left it. But how would he know?
The Celestial Mountain was always quiet. The city by contrast was loud and chaotic. With Shuanghua strapped to his back and a whisk in his arms, he found a set of cultivators journeying to a Night Hunt.
“May I join you?”
At first, they were hesitant. They did not want to share the glory. But this boy was so young, perhaps he could still be useful. If nothing else, bait or distraction. After traveling with for some time, he met another group of Night Hunters. A young woman approached him. Her name was Luo Qingyang.
“Daoist, perhaps it would be better if you traveled with us.”
She pulled him aside. “Those men are nothing but thugs. They steal credit.”
“I do not need credit.”
“Come with us.” She insisted. “It will be better for you. Think of it this way. They are ferocious, they will have less trouble on a Night Hunt. We need the help more.”
Xiao Xingchen had noticed the difference in skills between the two groups.
“Alright then.”
He separated from his original group and traveled with the second. It was a good choice. The cultivators in the second group were less inclined to drunken bouts and squabbling over spoils. He also made a friend in Maiden Luo who looked after him as a Shijie.
Maiden Luo stood out as one of the few female cultivators in the Night Hunt group comprised mostly of men. Xiao Xingchen met the group by chance and though they were traveling together, many of the cultivators had low to medium spiritual levels and felt uncomfortable approaching the young man. They feared condescension, scorn, and possible mocking. Surely a capable cultivator at such a young age was bound to be arrogant. It was an experience that many of them had endured before and as men, their egos were fragile.
Maiden Luo did not share their concerns. She befriended the young man, basing her observation of his affability on personal reflection rather than the group consensus. She found him to be the opposite. He was quite young, 17, and his master was the famous immortal cultivator. Though she did not share the fact, she realized that he was Wei Wuxian’s Shishu and thus a sort of relative to her savior. Because of his age and connection, she felt a great deal of protectiveness towards the Daoist. He was just a boy after all.
“I’m from Lanling.”
“Are you from a Sect?”
“Was. I left. My family were servants. Usually servants aren’t accepted as disciples, especially a prestigious one like the Lanling Jin Sect. It took a long time for us to be recognized. They were so proud of me then. Now,” her shoulders sank, “many of them won’t talk to me or of me. I miss the other disciples too. I miss Lanling, but I don’t regret my decision.”
Xiao Xingchen felt the commonality of their situation. By their own choice, they were both without a home. She spoke of the Sunshot Campaign a few years before, her accomplishments, what she had witnessed and of the YiLing Patriarch. The Daoist’s interest increased. The Yiling Patriach, Wei Wuxian, was his Senior Sister’s son.
“Did you ever met him?”
‘Yes.” The girl had a wistful sadness.
‘What was he like?”
“There’s not many people who would agree with me, but he was a good man. A good person, truly.”
He could tell from her expression and tone that this compliment was of the utmost rarity.
After several weeks of travel, the Daoist chose to leave the group. It was time to travel on his own again. Maiden Luo feigned worry over the cultivator that she had looked on as a younger brother. She asked him questions about whether he was comfortable with regular financial transactions, booking an inn, searching the pharmacy, had he ever seen a bear before, and chided him on not talking to strangers.
“I’m not that naive.”
The Daoist took the teasing with good nature. Before departing, she gave him sachet of herbs for his travel. In fact, she gave him about 10 bags in total, knowing that he likely would give it all away and not save any for himself.
‘This is too much.”
“Not for you. I guarantee you will only have 1 left in a less than a fortnight.”
He tucked the packets away in a Qiankun Sleeve. He paid his respects to his traveling companions. Now that he was finally leaving, the other cultivators were not afraid to let their opinions be known.
“What a good person.”
“His swordsmanship is a force to behold.”
“What a striking person.”
“He’s like...”
The crowd was silent, but Maiden Luo answered. “Like a Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze.”
They shifted from one another and gave her space. “Maiden Luo?”
She smiled at the crowd and asked. “Isn’t he like that?”
They exchanged looks among one another and then agreed. News of the White Robed Cultivator known as the ‘Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze’ blossomed around the Cultivation World.
He went to a small village first in Yunmeng. The hometown of Wei Wuxian. He passed by Yunmeng docks of Lotus Pier. The villagers cowered to the sides in the street. He stayed behind them. Because of his height, he could see that there was a set of gentlemen in the middle of the street. Gentlemen? Perhaps not. The people were in such fear.
A tall, handsome man wearing purple led the pack. His followers also wore purple. He heard an attendant refer to him as Sect Leader Jiang. It was then that Xiao Xingchen saw ring wrapped around his finger.
Zidian, a powerful Spiritual Tool. He remembered Maiden Luo speaking of it. She spoke highly of it. But on the master, she was quiet. He understood why now. The Jiang Sect Disciples dragged men by the dozen, tied together with immortal coil ropes.
“Madam, what crime have these men committed?”
The elderly pulled his arm and had him bow with her, so the gentlemen couldn’t see them whispering.
“Demonic Cultivation. Anyone within a hundred li distance will be rounded and taken for questioning. Don’t ask anymore. Just steer clear. Sect leader Jiang is not good-tempered.”
He obeyed the advice. There weren’t any advertisements at the local bulletin seeking help for exorcisms or night hunts. So he asked around. There was a manor that seemed to having trouble keeping servants in their household. Most servants were contract bound. But many risked running away from the manor. When the servants were arrested, they were not mistreated. There were no wounds on their bodies, but their minds were another matter.
Vengeful spirits haunted Tian Hua Manor, they exclaimed. The entire household was fearful for their lives. Of course the family denied this.
‘’Which way is Tian Hua Manor?”
The elderly woman pointed towards the Northwest. On the way there, a scuffle in an alley caught his attention. A boy, about 7 years of age, was being beaten. He was about to interfere when someone arrived ahead of him. Another Cultivator. He wore plain, black robes. He threw out his whisk and injured the man on the hand. With his other hand, the Daoist freed the child’s hair from the fist.
“You must not bully children.”
“Who are you to talk! You bully me, cultivator!”
“If I were to truly bully you, then it would not end with this.” He pointed with his whisk at the sheathed sword on his back.
The man flinched, spat at the child, and stomped out of the alley. Xiao Xingchen moved out of the man’s way.
“Child, go. Beware. There are things you must do and things you mustn’t.” The boy also stomped away. First getting beaten and then scolded by his savior instead of receiving comfort would have left a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.
The Daoist began to walk towards the exit of the alley. He stopped him with an inquring expression.
“Hello, fellow cultivator, do you know where the Tian Hua Manor is?”
The man glanced at him up and down with a critical eye.
“I’m going there myself. Are you going there as well?”
“Yes. Allow me to introduce myself. Xiao Xingchen.”
“I am Song Zichen.”
Xiao Xingchen smiled brightly and the other cultivator led the way. The other Daoist was quiet with a proud, aloof manner.
It’s like being back in the Celestial Mountain, he thought in amusement. Disciples were always encouraged to maintain a detached spirit, lofty like the mountains, flowing like the river.
Song Zichen glanced at the young man and thought. He smiles… a lot. Strange person.
He decided not to ask too many questions They were simply going to the same place. There was no need for any other correspondence.
Tian Hua Manor
The matter was not as complicated as it seemed. The residence was simply overrun with Ancestors whom were not being properly worshiped. The family needed to increase their regular offerings and would be pacified.
However, the family was too afraid of gossip to appeal to cultivators from proper sects. Instead they relied on the gimmicks of waylaid fakes. The gimmicks increased the Ancestor's resentment to the extent that several servants and one relative passed away.
The contracted servants didn’t matter. They could simply hire more. But the relative, even a poor relation, held a larger weight. Though the weight was not much.
Together, the two Daoists resolved the issue. Both declined payment.
Song Lan invited him to dine with him at a teahouse. Xiao Xingchen watched the older man wipe his seat down several times before sitting down. The waiter brought them a fresh pot of tea and two cups.
‘What kind of tea is this? It’s quite good.”
“Jasmine. Have you ever had it before?”
“No. I’ve had tea a few times. The other disciples and myself had to pick the buds, dry, and then roast the leaves ourselves. We only had access to the leaves available in the mountains.”
“Are you from a mountain based sect?”
The young man looked up thoughtfully.
“I suppose I am, but my Master would dislike it being called a ‘sect’.”
“Your courtesy name is ‘Xingchen’ correct?”
“Courtesy name? I don’t have one.”
“How old are you?”
“17.”
“You should have one then already.
Xiao Xingchen gave him a sheepish grin. “I don’t have one.”
“Which sect are you from?”
“I’m not from a sect exactly. I do have a Master though.”
“Who is your Master?”
“Baoshan Sanren.”
Song Lan studied the boy’s face carefully. His fine brows were arched in disbelief, but he had lived enough to recognize falsehoods. This boy was neither a liar or delusional. Also he could tell that his swordsmanship was excellent from his execution at Tian Hua Manor.
Xiao Xingchen poured himself another cup of tea. It was his fourth cup. The tea in the pot was 2/3 gone. Song Lan was still drinking his first serving.
“Baoshan Sanren? I always imagined her as a wandering eccentric, unbound by rules.”
“I can’t say my Master isn’t like that. I can see how others would have that impression.”
Since leaving the mountains, he had heard the eccentricities given to his Master. There was neither falseness or credibility in these rumors. There was a little bit of truth in all of it.
The Tea house owner’s child peeked behind the pillar. The child hid her face. When she peeked again, Xiao Xingchen made a face before lifting up a teacup, drinking from it. His long sleeves hid his face. Amused, the child repeated this action several times until her mother scolded her disturbing the guests. When the madam came, he apologized to her.
“Oh, no, Young Master. She plays too much. I don’t want her to think it’s acceptable to do this with all guests. Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, do you have siblings? You are good with children.”
“Younger disciples.”
“Oh, I see. You must have been a wonderful Shixiong.”
Xiao Xingchen declined the compliment. “My master was quite strict. I wasn’t allowed to spoil them too much.”
The owner popped the child on her bottom and sent her away. Then the madam went to attend to the other guests.
Xiao Xingchen did not know of other sects. So, he drew great interest in Song Lan’s explanation of his temple’s practices and how the rest of the Cultivation World operated. In his earliest months, traveling with the earlier Night Hunt group, the cultivators did not have expansive knowledge. Most of their information was a practical sort.
Only Maiden Luo offered information based on real experience, but she seemed reluctant to delve into certain topics. Xiao Xingchen knew it must be painful, so he did not dare press for more than what she was willing to offer.
The two cultivators talked into the evening. Before he retired Song Lan asked which inn Xiao Xingchen was staying at.
Xiao Xingchen pointed to the woods.
“Outside?”
“Well, I don’t have much money. I should probably save what I can.”
“If you’re alright with it, I can share my room.” Truth be told, he didn’t want to share his room, but the idea of sleeping outside conjured horror, but the young man declined.
“No, I’ve slept outside quite a bit much of my life. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With a flip of his outer robe’s sleeves, the young wanderer, flew into the forest.
Back in the inn, Song Lan scrubbed his room until it reeked of cleansing water and it shined it like a Buddhist temple icon. It was nearing dawn and since he had not slept anyway, he took a walk. Approaching the outskirts, he walked on the clear paths of the forest. Unlike those of people, he did not mind the mire of natural Earthly realm as much. The cyclical agent corresponded with his sentiments better.
After an hour, he stopped over a wooden bridge overlooking a creek. A wisp of white cloth hung taut between two trees, high above the clearing. The color contrasted sharply with the verdant greenery and maroon barks.
Sleeping on the cloth, as though it were a hammock, his acquaintance rested. The bottom of his sleeves swayed in the light breeze. As lightly as a descended cloud from the heavens.
Song Lan turned to leave, but a flutter as light as a butterfly stopped him. Xiao Xingchen tugged at one end of the white cloth loose and drifted down to path leading up to bridge. His appearance was pristine. He did not look like he had slept in the wilderness at all. The younger cultivator joined him on the bridge.
“Daozhang Song”
“Daozhang Xiao.”
Together, they walked side by side into the village. The vendors were starting to set up their stalls. Xiao Xingchen paused by a small candied shop selling haws. He hesitated in buying one, but after seeing the vendor’s expectant face, he purchased one stick.
He held it out, reluctant to take a bite. He offered it to Song Lan.
“I don’t like sweet things.”
“It’s sweet?”
“Take a bite and see. Were you expecting a different flavor?”
Xiao Xingchen popped one haw into his mouth. The hardened sugar coating cracked in his mouth.
“It’s kind of sour. A bit too sweet.”
He offered the stick to passing child. The child looked at him blankly, wondering if it was a trick.
“It’s too sweet.” He replied earnestly. “Take it.”
Daoist Song nodded at the child. The child took it with both hands stuffed the haws in his mouth.
As they walked down the street, he noticed that the vendors had marked him. But Song Lan exerted an air of coldness, so they dared not approach them. He figured that his new acquaintance was someone who would be easily taken advantage of.
Ah, yes, Song Lan thought, he’s from the mountains. He was getting accustomed to using this phrase. The boy reminded him of some of his relatives that were sent to his Uncle at the temple. They had come from rural areas, poorly developed, reliant on bartering rather than actual money. Although he shared a similar nativity, the young cultivator was literate and knowledgeable. Eager to learn. If his Uncle at Baixue Temple, he would definitely be pleased with him.
Xiao Xingchen took out a letter from his sleeve and read it. Song Lan didn’t mean to intrude on the young man’s privacy, but his height allowed him to peer over the boy’s shoulder and though he couldn’t read the contents, he could tell the handwriting was feminine.
“It must be somewhere around here.”
“A letter from a friend?”
“Yes. A lady by the name of Maiden Luo. She told me that in Yunmeng, there has been a string of unresolved disappearances.”
“Is this lady a cultivator?”
“Yes. I traveled with a group shortly after leaving the mountain.”
He peered around the corner of the street and found a local ministry office. He went to inquire about the information Maiden Luo wrote in her letter. When the inquiry was over, he walked back to Song Lan.
“People have been disappearing from the foot of the mountain in this village. Ages ranged from 5-15. That’s a particular demographic. Usually spirits are either specific or indiscriminate in their targets.”
“It could signify slave traders.”
“Slave traders?”
“Since it’s mostly boys disappearing, I’d say labor camps. A couple of the cases may be parents or relatives who sold the boys and are just trying to hide the evidence, but I think the majority are legitimate.”
“Guardians who sold their relatives.” The shadow that crossed the boy’s face was troubled.
The young man searched Song Lan’s face for confirmation to anchor the disbelief into fact.
“It’s not uncommon.”
“It’s not that I don’t understand that these things happen.” Xiao Xingchen explained. “I’m just thinking of the children who were sold. How betrayed they must have felt.”
“I have a second cousin. His parents never bothered sending him to our temple because he wouldn’t inherit as a successor. They thought it would be a waste of time and sent him to work in the mines. But the owners didn’t pay him for weeks. Eventually, he disappeared. In a stint with local officials, they found the group trafficking the labor camp. They found him starving, half-dead, sick with madness.”
Song Lan suddenly felt a bit guilt in relaying this history to his new acquaintance.
“Xingchen, don’t be discouraged. For every wrong, there is a right. People seldom spread the good news as they do the bad news.”
“Huh?”
The older man stared at him. “What is it?”
“You called me ‘Xingchen’.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.
“It’s fine. We’re friends, aren’t we?” The young man’s face was full of joy and openness.
Song Lan’s head titled to the side. Well, they had only known one another for a few days, but he didn’t want to tell him ‘No.’
“Yes.” He agreed in defeat. “You can call me ‘Zichen’.”
“Zichen?”
“Yes?”
“Zichen?”
“Why do you keep calling me? I’m here.”
“I’ve never had a friend to just call by their name before. I’ve had shidi, shimei, a few shixiong, shijie, and even I refer to Maiden Luo with courtesy. Although we are close, I can not refer to her as relation because we are not blood kin. Even before leaving the mountain, I suppose you would be my first peer.”
Xiao Xingchen walked ahead of him. The Cultivator in black slowed, staring at his back. Growing up in Baixue, he always had friends. Perhaps none as close as it could have been, but that was due to his personal preference for solitude and his own demeanor. This young man, who exuded such warmth and amiability. How sad for him to not have had a choice in the matter.
He took quicker strides to catch up. The young man hadn’t noticed that he had fallen back.
“Xingchen, what is your plan?”
“Having bait would be the easy path, but I don’t want to endanger anyone. I suppose staking out the village for suspicious persons.”
“It’s not just like they would automatically show up, right?”
Then they heard a few screams from down the street. Song Lan thought to himself.
There is nothing so coincidental in this world, is there?
The two cultivators ran swiftly to the base of the mountain. They encountered a wild bear roaming the village.
“My first bear.”
“Xingchen, be careful.”
‘It’s just as Maiden Luo described.”
“Are you listening?! Song Lan asked. “Dodge!” He unsheathed Fuxue and went to defend the villagers.
Xingchen was several paces away from the bear. He hadn’t moved to unsheathe his sword. His eyes were closed as well.
“Xingchen!”
The young daoist’s eyes shot open and with his palm placed a talisman at the center of the bear’s stomach. He took a step aide. The bear fell forward. Asleep.
Once he was sure the bear was unconcious, Xingchen knelt down. He pat the bear’s brown fur. He touched the ears and even peered into the bear’s mouth.
Song Lan felt his mysophobia acting up. He stayed a safe distance away, not necessarily from the bear, but from his friend, who was engrossed in touching the bear. A sliver of drool dripped from the bear’s mouth, close to his shoe. Song Lan closed the distance between them and pulled the young man up by the crook of his elbow with his whisk.
“No more touching the bear.”
The villager head approached him. “Daozhang, how long will the bear stay asleep?”
“For an hour, unless I use another talisman.”
“You can use a wagon-”
A crowd of angry villagers surrounded the bear. Each villager stabbed the bear with the tool in their hands. Spades, hammers, knives, and axes.
Song Lan stepped in between the Xingchen and the angry villagers attacking the bear. He tried to shield him, but the splatter of blood sprinkled the young man’s face and pristine white clothes. A night in the forest had not tainted him, but a day in the human realm had.
However much of the blood had fallen on to Song Lan.
“Zichen, your clothes.”
“I have more.” He answered. “Let’s go.”
The hungry villagers hacked at the bear’s body with a ferocity, he was surprised that they didn’t start tearing at the flesh with their teeth.
“These villagers are desperate.”
Song Lan agreed.
The villager head asked to see them in private. When they entered the small hut, he immediately kowtowed to them.
“Please save us, Cultivators!”
Xingchen picked the kneeling man by the arms, “We can discuss this.” He helped the man to a chair. He was elderly in age. His skin was worn thin by the seasons down to a skeletal frame. Xingchen was leaning down, almost sitting on his heels to check the man’s comfort. His white robes spilled onto the ground.
“What can I do?” His voice conveyed genuine pain at the elder’s plight.
“I have been the village head for many years. I have tried to protect the people here. But a few years ago, I miscalculated a business proposition. I ended up losing out on the deal. I had pooled all the village savings into the deal. We didn’t have anything left to pay it back. We’ve been paying back every coin. We are to the point of starving. They’re started taking some of the children to sell to for labor camps. There’s hardly any one with energy to fight.”
“This is the Jiang Sect territory, isn’t it? Couldn’t you have applied for help from him?”
‘We are just the outskirts of the Yunmeng territory and we dare not approach him. Since the death of the Yiling Patriach, Sect Leader Jiang has been temperamental and unstable. We dare not anger him with out request. Please help us.”
Xiao Xingchen rose and shared a glance with Song Lan. The older man nodded at him.
“We’ll help you.”
Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze, Distant Snow and Cold Frost
The two cultivators crouched down in the ditch. Zichen took out a handkerchief and handed it to him. He pointed to a smudge on his face.
“Zichen, you really don’t like dirt.” His friend wiped at his face. “I’ll clean this before I return it.”
Song Lan shook his head. “No need, I have at least a hundred.”
He gestured to the clearing in the village. “They’re here.”
Xingchen closed his eyes and whispered a spell into a painted talisman. The paper slipped from his hands and flew to one of the bandit’s horse. They would follow the bandits’ hideout though the talisman.
The bandits rounded up all the valuables left in the village. All they found was bales of rice, seasoned jars of pickled vegetables, dried fruit. Rations for the upcoming Winter. Once satisfied that they had taken everything of substance, they leap back onto their horses and rode back to their hide out.
Xingchen activated the spell when they were a safe distance away. They flew on their swords and arrived a half hour after the bandits.
A cave dwelling. Excellent for defense. Song Lan thought about how they could lure the bandits out. He decided that if they could place talismans on each of the horses and sent them away. Horses, good ones were expensive. The bandits would definitely go after them. The loss of one good horse was at least several hundred taels and he could tell from experience that these horses weren’t the ordinary workhorse variety.
If Xingchen could manage dispelling at least half the horses, he would manage the rest. They executed the plan.
The horses ran off as planned. A majority of the bandits raced after them. They snuck into the compound, capturing every bandit within. Song Lan set up a sound barrier so that the clamor would be contained.
He had to kill a few of his attackers. Xingchen killed none. His leg got slashed, going too easy on one opponent, but it was a flesh wound. No damage done.
The compound was taken. Now they had to deal with the bandits who were going to return. Xingchen tied his leg with the handkerchief to stop the bleeding. His sword, Shuanghua, glowed an icy light and he struck as fierce as the first wind of winter.
How he managed not to kill anyone was a testament to skills and will power. After the capture of the villagers, Song Lan sent a messenger talisman calling for assistance from the Jiang Sect. The Yunmeng Jiang disciples accosted and took over the case.
Most of the children had already perished in the labor camps. A few had even become indoctrinated as bandits. Song Lan leaned down and examined the young face of one bandit he killed. The oppressed become the oppressors. But a child was still a child. He stared at his bloody hands. He glanced back at his friend. Xiao Xingchen sheathed his sword. His hands were clean. Song Lan became determined that he would never allow those hands to become like his.
A few days later, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader requested to see them. He asked for them to be witnesses at the bandit trials and also to host them. They met the Leader in the Reception Hall of Lotus Pier.
“I have heard of you both, Xiao Xingchen, Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze and Song Zichen, Distant Snow and Cold Frost. I had no idea that you were both acquainted with one another.”
“We have just been friends this short period of time.”
“Fate must have some hand in it. Great Men find each other.”
“I’m sure I don’t deserve such praise.”
“Nor I.”
“You are both too humble. I want to thank you for assistance in this matter.”
“You do not need to thank us, Sect Leader Jiang. Helping the People is the work that should be done.”
“What will you do now?”
“Traveling . No particular destination in mind.”
“I see. Well, when you are back in Yunmeng, please call upon me. I would be honored to host you.”
Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen thanked him for his hospitality. The two cultivators departed from Yunmeng. As they traveled, the y became renown for their skills and famous for their heroic deeds among the common folk.
Minstrels sang songs of the heroic duo, Xiao Xingchen, the Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze and Song Zichen, the Distant Snow and Cold Frost. One was never far from the other.
Soon all of the Cultivation World recognized them.