Chapter 65: The Teacher

Zhu Gaoyang ran through a hazy, chaotic blur.

He did not know where he had arrived; it was as if a line ahead was pulling him along.

He clung desperately to that sliver of clarity deep within his heart—not his own name, nor his master, nor Long Jun Dongting, but merely the concept of "I."

He knew his purpose: he was to find for the Divine Lord... no, screw the Divine Lord... he was to find... find what?

Did he truly have something to seek? Was the thing ahead something he wanted to find, or was it the Divine Lord's command... no, screw the Divine Lord!

Zhu Gaoyang felt as if he were thinking while half-asleep. He struggled to recall something, but his thoughts would simply stagnate, and after a short while, he would forget what he was trying to remember, or even that he had intended to think at all.

If someone could enter his Mind-Spirit Realm, they would first see a pair of high, indifferent golden pupils suspended in mid-air, while all directions were filled with shadows, leaving only a pool of water in the center. A water serpent coiled within the pool, surrounding the sleeping Zhu Gaoyang.

The 【Heart-Pool Serpent-Nurturing Method】 passed down from Long Jun Dongting was naturally a profound technique acting upon the Mind-Spirit Realm, capable of both offense and defense. As long as one did not encounter the Severing-Heart Glaze, there was generally no need to worry about suffering losses in Mind-Spirit Realm conflicts.

But now, under the gaze of those golden pupils, it was doing its utmost just to preserve the light of his original heart. Even so, those shadows still seeped into the pool like ink, and it would likely not be long before they touched the serpent's body.

Because the "Divine Lord" wanted him to perform a search rather than a slaughter, it had mercifully not used Dragon Saliva to destroy his brain. Instead, after occupying his skull, it had turned to using the Quail-Head's mind control to invade his consciousness, which was the only reason the Heart-Pool water serpent had been given a chance to delay things for a moment.

But this delay was clearly just a delay. Before this body could reach the target guided by that line, the 【Quail-Head】 would certainly complete its occupation of the entire Mind-Spirit Realm.

This was a future the Immortal Lord had long since seen clearly.

Perhaps stumbling, perhaps leaping like a bird, Zhu Gaoyang did not know how he was using his own body. In any case, in his hazy state, he felt he had already run a considerable distance.

Zhu Gaoyang tried hard to stop his steps. Even in his muddled state, he could occasionally remember—the thing the Divine Lord made him do, he ought to oppose it.

A small courtyard suddenly appeared ahead.

At the foot of the mountain, with a thatched cottage and a brushwood gate, it was one of the homes located deeper within the nearby village.

What is this... this is not the direction the Divine Lord indicated, so I must go over... wait, screw the Divine... right, I must go to a place not indicated by the Divine Lord...

He leaped down from the mountain.

Not far behind the small courtyard was a large field planted with many medicinal herbs; this was perhaps the reason this family lived here.

The light of dawn was just beginning to glimmer. The family had already risen; the man shouldered a hoe, shuffling in straw sandals, with small farm tools clattering in a small basket on his hand, and was about to push open the brushwood gate.

Then he looked up and saw Zhu Gaoyang, and a strange, distorted cry issued from his throat.

Zhu Gaoyang felt someone touching him.

Turning his head, it was a person wearing a black long-robe.

The images captured by his eyes were clear, but upon being transmitted to his muddled consciousness, they all became abstract.

A strip of beef jerky, he thought.

Nothing worth looking at; continue to the place not indicated by the Divine Lord.

Gently brushing aside the square frame made of woven wooden branches blocking his path, he stepped into the courtyard.

A shadow in front of him was roaring at him with sounds he could not understand. He waved his hand in irritation, turning it into a smear of something stuck to the wall.

But immediately, another small figure rushed over, screaming. He waved his hand again, erasing it from his field of vision.

At this moment, a slighter figure rushed out from the house, stopping in its tracks the moment it stepped out. He was somewhat satisfied with this silence and continued walking forward, but soon that figure erupted into an even more piercing sound. Thus, he angrily grabbed something at hand and smashed it over. Finally, it was quiet.

He was satisfied, walking forward in a muddled state, wanting to go over... wanting to go to a place not... what place was it again?

That line pulled him along.

Right, it was to go here.

He turned to walk back.

A voice rang out: "Zhu Gaoyang, look at what you have done?"

This voice was like a great bell, and Zhu Gaoyang actually woke up in an instant.

He shuddered, and the real scene flooded into his consciousness. He scanned his surroundings in a daze, the memories of just a moment ago rushing into his mind.

Before him was a hellish scene: a massive millstone had smashed into the doorway, collapsing the entire house into ruins, with blood slowly flowing out from beneath the stone.

On the wall nearby, flesh and blood were thickly smeared, vaguely forming a human shape. And on the ground by his feet were small, torn-apart limbs.

Zhu Gaoyang's entire body began to tremble slightly.

He looked at his own blood-stained claws, feeling as if everything were a dream.

"Do you wish for this scene to happen?" a gentle voice said.

This voice possessed a power to calm the heart. Zhu Gaoyang turned his head in a daze: "What?"

All images receded.

He was still standing outside the brushwood gate. The man inside the gate was slumped on the ground, waving his hands in terror, crawling backward while shouting for his wife and child not to come out.

The black-robed person's hand was touching him.

Zhu Gaoyang looked down.

The person was in his fifties or sixties, of similar height to himself from a day ago. His build was lean, appearing archaic and ethereal, yet his waist and back were straight as a pine, his character striking.

This face had clear eyes and a straight nose, with eyebrows like swords. One could imagine the sternness when he frowned, and also see the deep, quiet gentleness when he taught his juniors.

He was naturally unfathomable, but he did not give Zhu Gaoyang a sense of danger, even carrying a scholarly air—in his other hand, he held a book with a damaged cover and scorched-yellow pages, but the spine's binding thread was very new, and the pages were neatly arranged; it was clearly an ancient, scattered text that had been carefully rebound.

On the chest of the old man's black robe was a small pocket sewn on, stained with some ink, making the garment lose much of its dignity. Two strange, complex bamboo-tube pens stood inside, revealing only a third of their length.

For a moment, Zhu Gaoyang felt as if some classicist from the Imperial Academy were standing before him.

"I have two small gifts, and I must trouble you to help me deliver them." the old man said.

"May I ask, Senior, who are you..." The shock of the scene just now had not yet faded; all the details were so vivid that Zhu Gaoyang even doubted whether it had truly happened.

The old man did not answer, smiling slightly, his words shocking: "The first small gift is for your Divine Lord."

It was not a request for Zhu Gaoyang's consent, merely a polite notification. Just as Zhu Gaoyang was about to ask, the old man patted him, and something was struck into his body.

"You don't need to do anything; it will go where it is supposed to go." ===== CHAPTER 66 =====