Eternal Life: I Can Control My Essence Qi-Chapter 62: Lonely Silence of the Empty Mountain

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: Lonely Silence of the Empty Mountain

Changping City passed by uneventfully for a month.

Zhang Yao’s arrival did not disturb many people; only a few curious neighbors thought that perhaps the Zhao Family had a distant relative of a higher generation visit.

Decades passed: the once glorious martial arts arena, noble families, and commerce associations had long dispersed, with some leaving and others dying.

The only remaining Chen Family had lost its former splendor, reduced to being a second-rate noble family in the city, likely unaware of Zhang Yao’s reputation.

"Uncle, are you really leaving?"

Zhao Ling’s eyes were slightly red, showing a bit of reluctance.

"Yes, it’s time for me to go."

Zhang Yao smiled, patted his shoulder, and said:

"Over the past month, you have learned nearly everything from the improved Golden Furnace Technique and Great Vajra Fist that I taught you."

"Continue to practice diligently for ten years, achieving perfect martial artist status is not difficult, and you can revive the reputation of the Golden Furnace Martial Arts Hall."

"Though you may never reach the level of an absolute peak expert, with the inner cultivation method I leave behind, if any talented descendant comes along, they can cultivate both internally and externally, ascend further, and may reach the stature of a grandmaster."

"But remember, never reveal this to outsiders!"

"Alright."

Zhao Ling nodded forcefully and said solemnly, "Uncle, your kindness is like a mountain. Rest assured, I will surely follow your teachings and not disappoint your expectations."

"That’s good."

Zhang Yao nodded with satisfaction, fetched a long sword with a scabbard, and handed it to him:

"This is a treasure sword I collected in my early years, named Chixiao. Not only does it cut through iron like mud, it’s also a monstrous weapon that kills without leaving a trace."

"This sword has been with me for decades, and now I pass it on to you."

"But unless it’s absolutely necessary, do not use it lightly, or once exposed, many will come to snatch it."

"This..."

Zhao Ling hesitated upon hearing this and spoke:

"Uncle, since it’s such an exceptional weapon, you should keep it with you."

"You’re of advanced age and have things to do without help, you truly need the support of such a divine sword."

Deep down, he actually hoped Zhang Yao would stay.

To him, Zhang Yao had wandered all his life, having no children or family, being over seventy and still alone, it would be better if he stayed, so he could take care of Zhang Yao.

Unfortunately, during their month together, he had tried several times to gauge Zhang Yao’s intentions, but Zhang Yao was resolute and couldn’t be persuaded.

"No need."

Zhang Yao shook his head with a smile, refusing:

"I probably won’t return after leaving, this sword is more of a burden to me, passing it to you is best."

"Moreover, with my martial arts, this sword is of no use to me, keeping it is a way to remember me."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Ling finally didn’t refuse further and accepted the treasure sword.

The mother and son escorted Zhang Yao out of Changping City, wiping tears and turning back home only after watching his figure on horseback fade away in the distance.

......

Late at night, on Cuiping Mountain.

"Ah..."

An old Daoist suddenly awakened from his sleep, drenched in cold sweat.

He gathered his thoughts, sat on the bed silently for a while, then dressed, got up, and left the bedroom without lighting a lamp, using the moonlight.

The old Daoist left Shangqing Pavilion, walked out of Qingping Palace, and arrived at the back mountain.

On the slope of the back mountain stood a stone stele about a yard high, engraved with more than fifty names, all were victims of the historical tragedy.

That year, after regaining Qingping Palace, because the bodies of the victims were already impossible to collect, a stele was erected on the back mountain to mourn the dead.

"Hmm?"

The old Daoist, upon arriving at the back mountain slope, suddenly changed his expression.

In front of the massive stele, stood a solitary figure, with three incense sticks inserted in the copper furnace at the foot of the stele.

"Who is it?"

He shouted coldly, with a guarded expression.

The figure in front of the stele slowly turned around, revealing a face in his forties, striking a familiar note to the old Daoist.

"You..."

The old Daoist paused, seeming to recall something, hesitated for a while, then tentatively asked:

"Brother Zhang, is that you?"

"It’s me."

Zhang Yao’s voice came with a hint of surprise:

"Junior Brother Qingzhuo, I never thought you’d recognize me at a glance."

The old Daoist, Qingzhuo, sighed with relief, quickly approached the stele, saying:

"Compared to the past, your appearance hasn’t changed much."

"Moreover, didn’t you also recognize me at a glance?"

In the seven years in Changping City, Zhang Yao had visited Qingping Palace many times, primarily to pay homage to Lord Guanlu and some fellow brothers who had died.

Qingzhuo had seen his appearance in youth and remembered him distinctly, allowing him to recognize Zhang Yao despite many years passing.

"Brother Zhang..."

Old Daoist Qingzhuo, upon reaching his side, carefully examined him and couldn’t resist saying:

"Despite being so young in appearance, have you achieved the status of Grandmaster?"

"Yes."

Zhang Yao nodded slightly, speaking:

"I reached this realm decades ago."

"I knew it..."

Qingzhuo sighed inwardly, but wasn’t too surprised.

Fifty years ago, Zhang Yao was already an absolute peak expert, a prominent figure in Changping, with abilities far beyond his own.

Relying on his talent, Qingzhuo only achieved this stage at forty and stalled for years thereafter, unable to hope for a grandmaster title.

Meeting again, both were over seventy, one already old and frail, while the other still vigorous in appearance.

"After brother left Changping, Qingping Palace has undergone significant changes over the decades..."

Qingzhuo, encountering an old friend, stood by the stele, speaking endlessly.

Zhang Yao patiently listened without interruption.

Over the decades, after Qingzhuo reached the peak expert stage, Qingping Palace grew and thrived, surpassing its former peak glory.

Qingping Palace has now expanded several times, with many real people in residence, and combining the Daoists and Daoist children from various halls, numbering nearly two hundred, its incense flourishing, becoming the foremost Great Daoist Temple within a hundred miles.

The historic tragedy had become an ancient story, nearly forgotten by the world.

The only two survivors now stood under the memorial stele, remembering together.

Zhang Yao looked up at the stele, at the familiar names inscribed, his expression slightly dazed, lost in memories like a tide.

"Brother."

After sharing a multitude of words, Qingzhuo paused, then said:

"You are over seventy, without descendants, why not stay in Qingping Palace?"

"No."

Zhang Yao shook his head and replied:

"I plan to head south to Yun Province, with one task to complete, I’m afraid I won’t return."

"... I understand."

The old Daoist Qingzhuo sighed, ultimately staying silent.

"I intended to come quietly and leave quietly."

Zhang Yao smiled as he spoke:

"Didn’t expect to run into you, perhaps it’s fate."

He continued, retrieving a newly bound book from his robe and handing it over:

"This is the pinnacle work of my life’s martial Dao endeavors, I intended to pass it on before leaving, but lacking descendants, I didn’t know who to give it to."

"There’s a descendant of a senior brother from the martial arts hall, but unfortunately, he lacks the ability to practice the contents, and I don’t want the martial Dao passed down by my mentor altered."

"Thus, I thought, why not leave it at Qingping Palace for remembrance."

"Alright."

Qingzhuo nodded, casually accepting the book without looking.

At that moment, he didn’t know the significance of the book he casually received.