Chapter 206: Your Father... Won’t Be Coming Back

Lu Yuan listened to Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan speak, but his face showed little surprise.

He leaned slightly against the carriage wall, watched them calmly, and said slowly,

“I’ve encountered this sort of thing before.”

“It’s similar in nature to the Life-Severing Wang Family’s nurturing-malevolence site back then.”

“Actually, I’d already considered this even if you hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Whether it was the parent-child malevolent deity I met previously, or the predecessor of the Deity of Beauty, these evil gods’ places of worship are mostly outside, maintained or guarded by the Commanding Ghosts Liu Family.”

“Now that Liu Xuanyin is dead, even if the Commanding Ghosts Liu Family isn’t completely finished, they certainly won’t show their faces again, and they’ve probably run off.”

“No one manages those places anymore, and sooner or later trouble will break out.”

He paused, his tone still calm:

“However...”

Lu Yuan shifted the topic, his gaze sweeping over Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan with a hint of scrutiny and doubt:

“You two stepped up so eagerly to talk about this...

“What do you want to do?”

Lu Yuan’s bluntness left Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan a little taken aback.

They hadn’t expected Lu Yuan to be so composed, even having thought of the follow-up in advance,

and to show such obvious suspicion toward the help they offered.

They exchanged a glance and saw the bitterness and helplessness in each other’s eyes.

They knew last night’s events—especially Lu Yuan’s distrust and reprimand—had already branded them in his mind as a nest of snakes and rats, beyond redemption.

Now trying to reverse that impression would be far from easy.

Li Guanqi inhaled deeply and decided to be frank.

His purple pupils flickered with light, and his tone carried an unprecedented weight and honesty:

“Daoist Lu, I know that because of Hu Huxu’s deeds and because of Liu Xuanyin, you hold a deep prejudice against the Ten Families beyond the Great Wall, thinking we’re all of one blood, a nest of snakes and rats.”

“The Ten Families beyond the Great Wall, in their current inheritance, have long since strayed from the original intentions of our ancestors.”

Fu Yuanshan sighed and took the follow-up, his voice hoarse and weary:

“In recent years, some families’ actions have grown increasingly outrageous, with fewer and fewer moral limits.”

“Nurturing corpses and refining souls, imprisoning evil worships, even colluding with heterodox paths—we’ve long departed from our founding teachings.”

“If this continues, the Ten Families beyond the Great Wall will likely be rejected and despised by the orthodox forces across the region.”

“That would bring hostility and reckoning down upon all Ten Families.”

“That would be a true...catastrophe.”

Li Guanqi nodded, looking at Lu Yuan with sincerity:

“The Liu Family’s downfall is their own doing, but it is also a rectification.”

“We don’t want the Ten Families beyond the Great Wall to drift further down the wrong path and ultimately become the common enemy of the region.”

“We, the Du’e Li Family and the Backing Yin Fu Family, may have done shameful things, and we may have once turned a blind eye to the Liu Family’s evils, but our roots still lie on this land beyond the Great Wall.”

“We...want to do something for this land and for our families, to salvage some reputation.”

“To leave at least one...not completely severed way out.”

Fu Yuanshan’s tone was earnest:

“So we want to help.”

“Find the lingering poisons left by the Liu Family and assist the Daoist in cleaning them up.”

“This is both to atone for our previous failure to report and prevent what happened,”

“and to show the orthodox forces beyond the Great Wall—and you, Daoist Lu—our stance.”

“Not all Ten Families beyond the Great Wall are like the Liu Family or the Hu Family.”

“We are also willing to contribute to the region’s peace.”

Their words were candid and heavy.

Lu Yuan listened quietly, his face still expressionless,

but the scrutiny and doubt in his eyes gradually softened.

He could see that what the two men said now was genuine.

At least, for the most part.

They had been frightened by Gu Qingwan’s power and shaken to their core by last night’s “cleansing.”

They understood the internal problems within the Ten Families beyond the Great Wall and saw the looming crisis.

They wanted to seize this opportunity to completely distance themselves from the Liu Family and win a relatively “clean” future for themselves and their clans.

There were calculations and self-preservation motives, but there was also a lingering sense of responsibility and conscience.

At least, that was far better than Hu Huxu’s pure betrayal and scheming.

Moreover, their voluntary offer to help would indeed save a lot of trouble.

Having locals to guide them was better than stumbling around blind.

Lu Yuan remained silent for a moment, then his gaze swept over the still-unconscious old man again.

The old man had lived righteously and had not always opposed the Ten Families; he emphasized judging contemporary heads by their goodness.

If the old man woke and found Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan willing to make amends and assist in cleaning up the Liu Family’s remnants,

he would likely be willing to give them a chance.

“I understand your intentions,” Lu Yuan finally said, his voice still calm, but less icy than before.

“If you truly want to help, show concrete action.”

“First, organize the information you have on the Liu Family’s peripheral strongholds and their approximate locations.”

Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan showed relieved expressions and hurriedly cupped their hands in acknowledgment:

“Give us fifteen days and we’ll sort everything out!”

Lu Yuan said no more. He closed his eyes and sank his mind inward, attempting to sense the zhenran sealed by the Spirit-Locking Forbidden Land,

while continuing to monitor the old man’s faint pulse.

The Deity of Beauty kept her eyes closed, apparently ignoring the conversation.

The carriage rolled on toward Zhenlong Temple.

Silence returned to the carriage, but the atmosphere was different than before.

There was less suspicion and distance, and a subtle, tacit understanding based on shared interests had taken root.

The carriage bumped along the rough mountain road for more than half another hour.

Inside, Lu Yuan shut his eyes tightly, his brow knitting as he poured all his attention inward to counter the residual sealing power of the Spirit-Locking Forbidden Land.

He tried to guide the faint filament of zhenran inside him to circulate gently, nourish dried meridians, and repair damaged viscera.

Suddenly, a thought flickered, and two small figures flashed across his mind.

Hu Huxu’s two daughters.

Hu Yangyang and Hu Tutu.

Hu Huxu’s betrayal deserved death.

But these two little girls...they knew nothing.

They were still waiting with longing for their father to come home.

Hu Huxu’s sins should not be carried by two innocent little girls who understood nothing.

The old man always said that those on the path should distinguish right from wrong and separate grievances clearly.

One should not let calamity reach the wives and children; what crime have the little ones committed?

Now these two little girls were orphaned—mother already gone, father gone too—and if no one cared...

“Stop the carriage.”

Lu Yuan’s voice rang out suddenly, calm but firm.

The driver was startled but quickly pulled the reins with a sharp exhale,

and the carriage slowly halted.

Inside, Li Guanqi, Fu Yuanshan, and even the Deity of Beauty, who had been resting with closed eyes, all opened their eyes and looked at Lu Yuan with confusion.

“Daoist Lu, what’s the matter? Is Master Li...?” Li Guanqi asked hastily, fearing something had happened to Li Xiuye.

Lu Yuan shook his head and looked at the Deity of Beauty, saying in a low voice:

“Deity of Beauty, escort my master back to Zhenlong Temple first.”

The Deity of Beauty arched her perfect brows slightly and asked softly:

“Where are you going?”

“Your current condition...”

There was no need for Lu Yuan to hide anything about this matter.

The Deity of Beauty knew of Hu Tutu.

As for Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan, they were people of the Ten Families and likely knew as well.

Besides, there was nothing to be ashamed of; Lu Yuan had already decided to take the two little ones back to Zhenlong Temple.

He sighed and said:

“Hu Yangyang and Hu Tutu...”

At that, the Deity of Beauty understood, looked at Lu Yuan for a few seconds, and finally nodded lightly:

“All right.”

“You...be careful.”

“The zhenran is sealed and your wounds haven’t healed. Don’t force yourself.”

Naturally the Deity of Beauty wanted to accompany Lu Yuan, but at this crucial moment she needed to escort the old man back to Zhenlong Temple first.

“I know.”

Lu Yuan replied, then looked at Li Guanqi and Fu Yuanshan.

“You two go back to Zhenlong Temple first with Senior Deity of Beauty and wait there.”

“The conditions at the temple are simple, but it’s quiet. You can recover from your wounds and organize the information on the Liu Family’s strongholds.”

“I’ll return soon.”

Lu Yuan said no more. He took a deep breath, suppressed the pain, gently removed his hand from the old man’s wrist, and carefully tucked the old man’s cloak around him.

He then turned, lifted the carriage curtain, and jumped down.

The mountain wind blew cool and lifted his spirits slightly.

He identified the direction: the Continuing the Lamp Hu Family’s village lay the other way and wasn’t far from here.

With his current pace, even injured, he could reach it in less than a day.

Lu Yuan forced himself to ignore the pain and the sluggishness from the sealed zhenran, and ran hard.

After nearly a day of climbing ridges and crossing valleys, as dusk fell again, he finally saw the familiar small village tucked into a mountain hollow from a distance.

The village looked the same as before—small, with a few dozen households laid out thinly along the mountain’s base.

Houses were built of nearby stone, roofs patched with darkened thatch and a few oilcloths to keep out the wind.

Smoke from chimneys was thin; it wasn’t yet time for most to cook.

Chickens were tucked in their coops and dogs curled up in their kennels. Everything was as quiet as usual.

The last sliver of sunset gilded the village in a hazy dark-gold light.

The crooked old willow tree at the village entrance stood leafless as ever.

This village looked indistinguishable from any ordinary, mountain-dependent settlement beyond the Great Wall—quiet and simple,

even with a touch of isolated loneliness.

Without knowing the truth, no one would have guessed it housed a branch of the Continuing the Lamp Hu Family.

Lu Yuan didn’t disturb anyone. He skirted the village entrance, took the small path, and made his way with practiced familiarity to Hu Huxu’s house.

The courtyard wall was low, and through gaps in the stone Lu Yuan glimpsed the yard.

It was small but tidy.

By the central well sat two small wooden buckets, their rims wet as if recently used.

The main room’s door stood ajar, a dim, flickering oil lamp casting light inside.

Soon Lu Yuan stood outside the slightly open courtyard gate of Hu Huxu’s home and watched the quiet figure sweeping inside the yard, feeling oddly moved.

In the yard, Hu Yangyang had her back to him, holding a battered broom nearly as tall as she was, sweeping leaves with steady, unhurried strokes.

Her hair was tied into two simple horn braids, and she wore a faded floral jacket washed nearly white. Her small frame looked thin and pitiful.

Yet her movements were unusually composed, carrying a focus beyond a child’s, almost coldly detached,

as if she weren’t cleaning so much as performing a fixed ritual.

Hearing the gate give a small creak, Hu Yangyang stopped but didn’t immediately turn.

She tilted her head slightly and glanced at the gate with peripheral vision.

When she recognized Lu Yuan, the eyes that should have held childlike surprise and curiosity showed none of that.

Only a calm near indifference clashed with her young face,

and...a faint, barely perceptible sense of distance.

She didn’t run over or greet him cheerfully as a normal child might.

She didn’t even ask about her father, Hu Huxu.

Instead she turned quietly, broom in hand, and stood watching Lu Yuan as if waiting for him to speak first.

“Time to eat?”

Lu Yuan pushed down his own complicated emotions and tried to make his voice sound calm and natural as he stepped into the yard.

“Daoist Lu.”

Hu Yangyang’s voice was clear but flat; she nodded slightly as her greeting.

Evidently, she had already heard something from somewhere.

That was unsurprising—what Hu Huxu knew, Hu Yangyang naturally would know some of as well.

Lu Yuan felt a pang but also a strange sense of relief.

Knowing beforehand made it easier—otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to break the news.

Even if Hu Huxu hadn’t been killed by Lu Yuan’s hand, it made little difference in truth.

Hu Huxu had schemed against Lu Yuan first and sought his life.

Still...

Explaining the situation to the two children was difficult.

“Where’s Tutu?”

Lu Yuan shifted the topic and glanced at the slightly open main room door.

“In the room, just woke not long ago.”

At mention of her sister, the cool indifference on Hu Yangyang’s face finally flickered with the tiniest change.

A genuine worry and...fatigue showed.

It seemed that during Tutu’s unconsciousness, this barely eight- or nine-year-old sister had borne far too much alone.

Lu Yuan nodded and walked toward the main room. He needed to check on Hu Tutu.

He pushed the half-open door and in the dim light immediately saw the small, curled figure on the little wooden bed against the wall.

Hu Tutu had woken but was clearly in poor condition.

She sat propped at the bed’s head, covered by a thin patched quilt.

Her face was pale to the point of translucence, her lips drained of color.

Those already-large, hollow eyes had lost all spark, shrouded in a grayish haze.

She stared ahead as if her soul had not yet fully returned.

The hand exposed beyond the quilt was thin as if it might snap, skin an abnormal, almost translucent porcelain white.

One could faintly see pale bluish, paper-like veins under the skin.

The creases on her neck and palms typical of paper-dolls on a full-moon night were not visible now, but the entire child radiated an inhuman fragility.

Hearing footsteps, Hu Tutu’s hollow pupils turned extremely slowly.

When her gaze focused on Lu Yuan’s face, the gray haze seemed to ripple faintly as if a pebble had disturbed water.

“Daoist?”

A thin, hoarse voice drifted from her chapped lips, as if she hadn’t spoken in a long time, filled with uncertainty and timidity.

That “Daoist” contrasted sharply with Hu Yangyang’s coolly distant “Daoist Lu.”

It held no wariness or estrangement, only the pure dependence and closeness of someone drowning clutching a lifeline.

Before Lu Yuan could answer, when Hu Tutu clearly recognized him she asked immediately:

“My father?”

Lu Yuan didn’t know how to answer for a moment and stood there stunned.

Hu Tutu then looked behind Lu Yuan, blinked her large eyes, and added:

“She said my father went out to handle things with Daoist Lu.”

Seeing the little porcelain-like child in front of him, Lu Yuan drew a deep breath and forced his emotions down.

“Your father won’t be back for a while. I’ll take you to live at Zhenlong Temple, okay?”

Hu Tutu trusted Lu Yuan completely.

She didn’t overthink his words and immediately nodded, her porcelain forehead bobbing as she chirped:

“All right!”

Seeing Hu Tutu accept without question steadied Lu Yuan. He went to the bedside and gently patted the small head:

“Rest a bit first. Then we’ll pack your things.”

Hu Tutu obediently answered, still weak but seeming slightly brighter.

Lu Yuan’s chest ached; he straightened her quilt and soothed her with a few words before stepping out.

In the yard, Hu Yangyang still stood in place, broom in hand.

She hadn’t eavesdropped; she simply looked toward the village entrance, her profile quiet in the dim lamp light—serene and profoundly lonely.

At Lu Yuan’s footsteps she slowly turned, her calm eyes meeting him as if she had already expected him to say what he did.

Lu Yuan approached the prematurely mature, worrisomely steady little girl, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a low, solemn voice:

“Yangyang, your father...won’t be coming back.”

He did not soften it with euphemisms like “gone far away.”

With a child like Hu Yangyang, subtlety might feel like an insult.

Lu Yuan chose bluntness—cruel, but truthful.

Hu Yangyang’s body trembled almost imperceptibly, her knuckles white on the broom handle.

Yet her facial expression barely changed,

still that near-indifferent calm, but something deep within her serene eyes seemed to shatter and go out.

She gave a small “uh-huh,” her tone flat and emotionless as if confirming something irrelevant.

Lu Yuan felt a stab of pain and continued:

“He did wrong—very wrong. He harmed others and himself.”

“That was his choice and his retribution.”

Hu Yangyang again replied with a flat “uh-huh.”

She showed no further reaction, only lowering her eyelids slightly as her long lashes cast a small shadow.

“But you two are not at fault.”

Lu Yuan’s tone hardened:

“Your father’s mistake should not be shouldered by you and Tutu.”

“You are innocent.”

Hu Yangyang finally raised her eyelids and looked at Lu Yuan steadily.

There was no resentment or sorrow, only a near-empty comprehension.

She seemed to have understood this for a long time, or perhaps had already accepted the worst outcome.

“So...”

Lu Yuan took a deep breath and announced his decision.

“I’ll take you away.”

“Leave here and go to Zhenlong Temple.”

“That is my home, and from now on it will be yours too.”

“I will take care of you, protect you, teach you skills, and keep you safe.”

“Are you...willing?”

Lu Yuan didn’t ask “is that okay”; he asked “are you willing.”

He handed the choice to this prematurely composed, emotionally deep child.

Hu Yangyang looked at him for a long time.

So long that Lu Yuan almost thought she would not answer or would refuse.

Then she barely whispered a single word:

“All right.”

No questions, no doubts, no bargaining.

Just a simple “all right,” spoken as if it took all her strength.

After saying it she seemed to relax a fraction,

and the hardened shell she wore as “big sister” or “little adult” cracked slightly.

Still she did not cry or show weakness. She quietly leaned the broom against the wall.

Lu Yuan exhaled a long breath and felt a surge of tender sorrow.

He stepped forward to do what he had for Hu Tutu—reach out to pat Hu Yangyang’s head—but his hand stopped midway.

He sensed this cold, steadfast girl might not need or be used to such comfort.

“Go pack you and Tutu’s things.”

Lu Yuan withdrew his hand and softened his voice.

“Only bring the essentials—clothes and small favorite items. The temple has the rest.”

Hu Yangyang nodded without asking more.

She turned and walked steadily, though weightily, into the adjacent room and began to pack in silence.

Lu Yuan lingered in the yard listening to the faint rustle of packing from the other room, feelings mixed in his chest.

On the bright side...this might be for the best.

Otherwise, with a father like Hu Huxu, the children would be dragged into more trouble and could be harmed or even lose their lives.

At least at Zhenlong Temple, Hu Yangyang would no longer live as she did.

As for Hu Tutu...

To be honest, it was still a thorny problem.

If Hu Tutu was to live, she might have to continue “sustaining a deity” for the god.

But there weren’t many gods beyond the Great Wall to take her in for such continuation—

unless the evil gods were counted in as well.

Lu Yuan thought it over and decided to leave that question to the old man when he woke.