The Decaying World-Chapter 52 - 47: Thoughts, Part 3

Leaving his master’s house, Lin Hui returned to the training grounds, where he saw the other two groups of new recruits laughing and joking in the distance as they practiced with their swords.

Xiaohu and Xiaopang were carefully rearranging the stones that served as dividing lines.

Weiwei had found these stones specifically for the three branches of Qingfeng Temple to use to divide up the Daoist Temple’s grounds.

The lines formed by these stones made it perfectly clear which area belonged to whom.

’The black mist... The world outside is so dangerous. So, what power is protecting the entire city district? Where... does a power like that come from?’

One thought after another surfaced in Lin Hui’s mind.

He had originally thought the Inner City would be a safe haven, but now it seemed it had its own hardships.

Picking up his sword, Lin Hui could understand his master’s perspective.

Live a stable life, with no particularly lofty goals. Eat well, dress well, live a simple life—that was enough.

At least the immediate dangers had been dealt with. For Mingde, this was the greatest relief.

But...

Lin Hui turned his head slightly, looking at the massive, seemingly endless white wall of the Inner City that soared into the clouds.

Then he looked in the opposite direction, at the boundless gray fog.

The only place the people of the Outer City District could live was under the long strip of gray sky overhead, through which the sunlight filtered down.

The spring rain was letting up, and as sunlight filtered down through the gray fog, its color turned ashen white.

Lin Hui looked up. The sky was still a blanket of gray fog; he could see neither sun nor clouds. The entire city district was like a giant sphere with the Inner City at its core, forcibly pushing back the fog to maintain a massive, spherical cavity.

’Perhaps I should go into the Inner City myself to see if the rumors are true. Then I can decide whether the whole family should move there.’

Having made up his mind, Lin Hui no longer hesitated and resumed his swordsmanship practice.

「Time passed, day by day.」

As the Blood Seal continuously evolved, the completion level of his Qingfeng Swordsmanship also leaped forward.

As Lin Hui’s Body Tempering progressed and his constitution grew stronger, the time it took to evolve each technique of the Qingfeng Swordsmanship began to shorten.

By the time he evolved the Sixth Technique, the required time had already been reduced from five days to four.

This gave Lin Hui even more motivation to strengthen his constitution and refine his stamina.

In the blink of an eye, the spring planting season passed, followed by wave after wave of busy farm work. The Black Mist Stage arrived as well.

Just as Lin Hui was quietly waiting for his Blood Seal to evolve, Daoist Baohe finally awoke.

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「Qingfeng Temple, the Observatory Master’s Bedchamber.」

COUGH COUGH...

Daoist Baohe, his face ashen, was propped up on his sickbed. His head was turned to the side, looking at the three junior brothers standing in the room.

Mingchen, Mingde, and Mingxiu.

The three of them waited quietly with respectful expressions, waiting for him to speak.

The room was filled with the thick smell of medicine. Even with the heavy incense burning on the table, it couldn’t mask the distinct scent of blood coming from Daoist Baohe.

"Flying Cloud Fist... Shangguan Fei... How is he?" Baohe covered his mouth with his hand, coughing up a trace of blood as he asked weakly.

"The Feiyun Hall Master passed away more than half a month ago... He died from the severe wounds inflicted by the Baihua Sect..." Mingchen sighed.

"Is that so... It seems... this was all fated..." Baohe lamented.

"Senior Brother..." Mingchen started to speak, but trailed off.

"Say no more. The Qingfeng Sword Sect has reached this point; we’ve had our moment of glory, and that’s enough." Baohe coughed a few times. "I can’t hold on any longer... After I’m gone, the three of you will handle Qingfeng Temple. The situation now... is dire. Wait... for the black mist... to pass... you all... should leave this place... find somewhere else... As for my children... tell them not to open a hall again..."

Baohe and his three junior brothers all had clans backing them. Baohe’s was the largest, and with his fall, his clan’s situation would naturally become grim.

They had already scattered and fled during this time; no one had been willing to care for the comatose Daoist Baohe.

"You... you..."

Baohe pointed at the three of them, still wanting to say something, but he couldn’t draw a breath. He struggled three times, but finally, his right hand slammed down, devoid of strength.

"Senior Brother!!" Mingde cried out, rushing forward to grip the edge of the bed, tears streaming down his face.

The other two also came forward. Looking at Daoist Baohe’s body, their eyes welled up with tears.

Outside the bedchamber, the Core Disciples of the three branches quietly lowered their heads. As they listened to the sounds from within, a thousand thoughts ran through their minds.

Lin Hui stood with Weiwei and Wang Yun. Listening to the sounds of weeping from inside, he also sighed inwardly.

"Junior Brother, what are your plans for the future?" Wang Yun asked softly from the side. "Practicing swordsmanship costs money, and from the looks of Qingfeng Temple, I’m afraid it won’t be able to support your training anymore."

"I’ll just go hunt for materials in the Fog Area when I have time," Lin Hui said calmly.

"That’s not a long-term solution. You’re young and strong now, with no burdens, so it’s easy to say that. But what if one day you fall ill or get held up by other matters? What if you get married and have children? Your safety will be tied to your entire family’s. When you get older, it’ll be too dangerous to take such risks," Wang Yun said softly.

"What are you suggesting, Senior Sister?" Lin Hui looked at her.

"You’re a person of great loyalty and integrity," Wang Yun said. "Your talent isn’t bad, either. Why don’t you do what Huang Shan, Qiu Yiren, and the others did? Come to my Wang Family. Stop trying to make it in the Martial Arts Hall Realm."

Lin Hui understood what she meant.

Just because they couldn’t make it in the Martial Arts Hall Realm didn’t mean the Qingfeng Sword practitioners couldn’t succeed elsewhere. With their skill in Body Techniques, they would be considered quite strong if they moved to other, lower-tiered circles.

"Once you leave that world, no one will gossip if you train in other Martial Arts," Wang Yun’s voice grew even softer. "Then, I can help arrange a marriage for you. Once that’s settled, you can start a family and a career. You’ll have an heir to carry on your family line, your parents will be at ease, and you’ll have no more worries."

"..." Lin Hui fell silent.

Listening to the weeping coming from the bedchamber, he lowered his head.

"And then what? What about my sword practice?"

"Why keep practicing? The speed from our current Body Tempering Body Technique is good enough. How much higher a level can you even reach with the Qingfeng Sword? Isn’t the whole point of us learning Martial Arts to live a good, safe life? As long as we achieve that goal, what does the method matter?" Wang Yun said softly.

After a pause, she glanced toward Huang Shan and Qiu Yiren.

"Look at them. Several others are about to leave, too. They’ve signed agreements with the Mu Family. Ah Hui, you need to remember this: you practice martial arts to live, not the other way around. Don’t sacrifice your life for your training. Look at Mu Qiaozhi and Zhao Jiang’an—they have their priorities straight."

Lin Hui was silent.

He had to admit that Senior Sister Wang had a point. Wang Yun had done exceptionally well to persist for so long.

She didn’t care about Qingfeng Temple, only about Master Mingde. So what happened to the temple was of no concern to her; there were plenty of alternatives.

For them, and for ninety-nine percent of the disciples, practicing swordsmanship was just a means to an end.

"Yes... people have their limits. After your period of rapid growth is over, the returns for continuing to practice are just too small... It’s not worth pouring so much time and energy into it..." he sighed.

"See? You understand perfectly," Wang Yun said. "Think it over. When you’ve made a decision, you can come find me at the Wang Family estate anytime."

"Thank you, Senior Sister." Lin Hui nodded. "By the way, what about Senior Sister Weiwei?"

"She agreed long ago. Besides, Master has already given his tacit approval," Wang Yun whispered.

Lin Hui fell silent again.

’Even the master’s own daughter...’

Staring at the antique, dark red wooden doors of the bedchamber ahead, his thoughts drifted far, far away.

From the words and actions of Wang Yun, his master, and Senior Sister Weiwei, he knew that even they had given up hope that the martial arts of Qingfeng Temple would ever be glorious again.

Even Master Mingde thought a revival was impossible.

The Qingfeng Sword was more than just a step behind the martial arts of these new halls.

The thought of giving up also flickered in Lin Hui’s mind. But then he saw the characters that appeared in his vision from the Blood Seal: Seven-Section Quick Sword, Nine-Section Swift Sword. He had spent so much time, money, and energy just to reach the level of Qingfeng Swordsmanship.

’If I give up now, won’t all my previous investment have been for nothing?’

’Besides, wouldn’t it take even longer to switch and master a different, more powerful martial art?’

Daoist Baohe’s funeral lasted for three days. Very few people came to pay their respects. The former grandeur of Qingfeng Temple had vanished.

In the end, it was the three Daoists of the Ming Generation who carried the coffin and lowered it into the grave.

And from then on, Qingfeng Temple was split permanently into three branches, unlike the temporary division before.

Lin Hui took the opportunity to return home and tell his parents what had happened.

His father’s reaction was completely unexpected.

"What’s on your mind?" his father, Lin Shunhe, asked, looking at Lin Hui while sitting on a small stool in the shade of the courtyard tree.

"I’ve been practicing for so long... I don’t really want to give up," Lin Hui answered.

"If you like practicing swordsmanship, why not choose a stronger style? The Qingfeng Sword isn’t effective anymore; that’s a fact. You’ll spend the same amount of money, time, and energy, but you’ll end up weaker than others. Is that worth it?" His father was surprisingly rational and pragmatic.

"But Master..." Lin Hui hesitated.

"Mingde himself has lost hope. Otherwise, why would he let his own daughter train in other Martial Arts?" Lin Shunhe said. "Think about it. When it’s time to turn back, you have to do it decisively. Don’t get dragged in deeper and deeper, only to end in total, utter failure."

He stood up, patted his son’s shoulder, and turned to leave.

Leaving Lin Hui sitting there alone, gazing at the bustling, muddy road outside the courtyard, lost in thought.

He sat from morning until noon. When his mother, Yao Shan, came out to call him for lunch, she noticed the look in his eyes had changed.

"What is it? Have you made a decision?"

"Yes. I’m going to keep practicing," Lin Hui nodded in reply. "It’s not like I’m short on money, and our family is doing better now. I just want to keep training and see how it goes. I like Qingfeng Swordsmanship."

"...You and your stubbornness," Yao Shan said with resignation. "Fine. You can treat it as a hobby if you want. Now come on, let’s go eat."

"Alright." Lin Hui broke into a smile, stood up, and followed her inside.

’Truthfully, if not for the Blood Seal, I probably would have switched styles long ago. But since I have it, once the Qingfeng Swordsmanship finishes evolving, I can evolve it one more time...’

’That next evolution might take a lot of time and energy, but learning a new martial art from scratch would take just as much.’

’So, it’s better to stay the course. It saves me the trouble of learning something new from the beginning.’

Having made his decision, Lin Hui returned to his master’s residence.

Master Mingde and the other two had already spent several days splitting Qingfeng Temple into three sections, building thick partition walls between them.

Mingde’s branch was renamed the Qingfeng Sword Sect, reverting to its old name.

After the renaming, however, Mingde himself became completely hands-off, leaving everything to his daughter and Lin Hui. He spent his days either fishing or drinking with Steward Huang, living a carefree, leisurely life.

As for practicing swordsmanship? He had given up on that long ago. The busiest he ever got was cultivating his Inner Strength to maintain his current state.

The Qingfeng Sword Sect was no longer classified as a martial arts hall, but was now considered merely an informal, scattered tradition.