A gray, wood ceiling was the first thing Liang saw after opening his eyes. It had been three days since the unnatural mist fell on his village, and he spent each of them tormented by twisted memories while partially aware someone saved him. Not a moment passed without images flashing through his mind of bodies dropping to the ground in terror. The three days were like a horrific nightmare he wanted to escape.
His last clear memory was resisting the mists effects by circulating his inner qi, but once he dantian was empty, it felt like he had fallen off a cliff. The crushing pain made him drop to his knees, and left him with the sensation of his body tearing apart. He wanted to escape the pain like everyone else, but he had no idea where to go.
After piecing together his thoughts, he rolled to his side and sat up to gain a better understanding of his situation. Next to him was a small, messy bed, and an old, decrepit desk sat next to a window. He never stayed at an inn before, but the room was too big to be anything other. Someone saved him and brought him here, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not think of who it was.
When they came back, he would have to thank them and find out what happened. After making sure there were no major injuries on his body, he checked his internal organs, and what he found caused his face to drop. He was the first child born in his village with immortal roots, and everyone thought he would enter the Warring Crane Sect, bringing glory to the village, but now it was impossible.
His dantian was shattered, his immortal roots withered, and his meridians were torn to shreds. He was completely disabled. Thinking of the extremely expensive cultivation manual the chief bought him, and the qi condensing pills that cost more than three months’ worth of his father’s salary made it hurt even more. Everything the village had sacrificed for him was gone.
He wanted to dive deeper into his dantian, however, a tall, old man, with a short white beard and fierce eyebrows walked into the room. He removed a steamed bun from a brown paper box, and stuffed it into his mouth completely, as if he was a squirrel preparing for winter.
Noticing Liang was awake, the old man raised his arm as if to tell him to wait while he finished chewing his food, but he tried to swallow too quickly and ended up choking instead. Liang panicked, and wanted to help, but his body was unable to move and he could only watch as the old man bent over, choking on the bun.
He tried yelling for help, but his throat was so dry nothing came out. As the old man’s face changed from red to purple, Liang wondered if anyone would believe he died choking on a steamed bun. They would reason a man his age would have eaten countless steamed buns over the course of his life, and acquired a technique for such things. He doubted anyone would believe today was the day the old man’s luck ran out.
The thought of guards arresting him for the old man’s death left Liang’s back dripping with sweat, but thankfully, the old man straightened his body after placing the paper box down on the desk. He thrust his hips forward and leapt gracefully into the air in a manner unbefitting of his age, landing with a loud bang as he struck the floor. Somehow, the bun had dislodged from his throat.
The old man rolled onto his side, coughing violently for the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, before finally standing up. With his back facing Liang, he adjusted his light blue robe and fixed the knot in his hair before turning around to look at him with a deadpan face, as though nothing had happened.
He was breathing quite heavily from the steamed bun ordeal moments ago, but he still handed Liang a glass of water. After several moments passed, he looked towards Liang and said in a serious voice, “You’re probably confused right now, and have many questions. Don’t rush. Take some time, and think about what you want to say.”
He did have many questions, but he understood the old man needed a few moments to regain his composure, and was trying to buy time. It was quite embarrassing, and he could not believe how easily the old man was able to act as though the near tragedy had nothing to do with him.
Once the old man steadied his breath, Liang asked him where he was, but he only replied saying, “You’re lying in an inn.” The simple answer left the old man winded and tired looking, he had a deep frown on his face, and his eyes focused on the brown paper box. Liang did not want to press him, but he had a bad feeling.
Looking down into his lap, Liang was afraid of the answer he would receive, but eventually he asked about his village. The few moments of silence felt like an eternity, but finally, the old man told him, “Someone used essence-draining powder on your village, a powerful poison meant for cultivators. But I was only passing by, so I’m not sure who did it. Sadly, you’re the only one who survived.”
He resigned himself to the answer before asking, but it did not make it hurt any less. Everything and everyone he had ever known lived in that village, and now, he felt he had nowhere to go. The poison destroyed his cultivation; he was just a normal person with no skills and shattered dreams.
When the reality of his situation struck him, he rested his face in his hands, and through his tears mumbled, “Mom…, Dad…, what do I do now?” His whole world came crumbling down, and he could not hold it in anymore, his entire body trembled until he remembered words from the past. His father told him it was shameful for a man to cry in front of someone, but now he was doing it in front of an old man that had almost died just moments ago.
The old man did not speak. He did not try to comfort him, nor did he berate him. Liang wondered if maybe he had experienced something similar in his past. He appeared to be a cultivator, and most likely, he would have seen the deaths of a countless number of people. In any case, he was happy the old man stayed silent and waited for him.
Once Liang calmed down, the old man asked him what he planned to do. His dream of entering a sect was gone, and his village no longer existed. As he was, he was not prepared to face the world on his own, but he replied by telling him he wanted to see the village with his own eyes. The old man expected this, and despite having no relation, told Liang he would take him there.
The thought of everyone dying made him feel ill to his stomach, and he did not want to see it, but if he did not go back, then he would always wonder if everything really happened. However, when they arrived three days later it was more horrific than he thought. It had become a village of dust with nothing left.
He looked everywhere from the linen shop, the patrol station, the village chiefs house, and the butcher shop, but there was nobody to find. Only black silhouettes and ash that scattered across the ground with the wind.
The bodies of his parents, along with everyone else had disappeared, and because of this, he was only able to leave a cenotaph for them, the only proof that they once existed in this world. Kneeling before them, he kowtowed three times before saying, “Mother, Father, and everyone who’s raised me, I’ve been unfilial. You sacrificed everything for me, and now I’m disabled. I couldn’t protect anyone, I have no face to show you, so this will be the last time I come here, please forgive me.”
After wiping his tears, he walked over to the old man who waited for him, and told him he was ready to leave. However, before they left the old man told him, “This world is messy boy, and there was nothing you could do. Words like never coming back, don’t say them. The world’s messy, but there’s a lot you don’t know. You’ll learn soon enough.”
The old man did not elaborate any further, but Liang thought about his words after they left his only home. The world was a lot bigger than just his village, and there was a lot he did not know, but he could not imagine ever returning. He was just a normal boy, and the only way to redeem himself was to bring the heads of their killers, for the current him, it was impossible.
