Chapter 827

Zhang Liuzhen watched her in silence.

Pan Yun slumped her shoulders: "Fine, I have something to attend to in Japan—I said it was for tomb-sweeping just to get leave."

Zhang Liuzhen spun his wine cup; under the moonlight, his expression was unreadable: "Good. I have a favor to ask of you."

Hearing he wasn't stopping her from leaving, Pan Yun immediately brightened: "Brother Zhang, just say it—if I can do it, I'll do my best."

Zhang Liuzhen smiled slightly: "It's not difficult. I have two people who wish to travel to Japan to spread the Dao—could you give them a ride?"

Pan Yun was about to agree when Xue Shao pressed a hand on her shoulder and asked softly: "Master Zhang, the maritime customs are now open—official ships from the Maritime Trade Office sail to Japan and Korea, and private merchant vessels abound. As far as I know, many monks travel via private ships. Since this is a trial, wouldn't it be better to sail like an ordinary person?"

Zhang Liuzhen's gaze shifted from Pan Yun to Xue Shao's face; he studied him for a moment, then suddenly smiled: "I don't want anyone else to know about this."

Xue Shao was about to ask more when Pan Yun and Zhang Liuzhen both suddenly turned toward the door.

Xue Shao fell silent in unspoken accord and turned as well—but there was nothing there.

Zhang Liuzhen, after a moment of silence, withdrew his gaze and smiled at them all: "Did you enjoy tonight's meal?"

Miaohe and the others, who had been eating seriously, nodded vigorously and pulled out handkerchiefs to wipe their mouths and hands.

Zhang Liuzhen said gently: "Good. It's late, and you've all been tired these past days—go rest early tonight."

Pan Yun nodded at Zhang Liuzhen and said with double meaning: "Alright, I'll follow Brother Zhang's advice."

She stood: "Brother Zhang, rest early too."

Everyone rose to take their leave.

Zhang Liuzhen saw them out to the courtyard gate, stood at the threshold watching them fade into the distance, then returned inside with the Dao boy and closed the gate.

He stood by the table, glanced at the leftover dishes, helped the Dao boy clear the table; when they were nearly done, he casually picked up the bottle of wine and went upstairs.

The Dao boy, carrying the last bowls and chopsticks, called after him: "Young Master, your health is frail—don't drink too much wine!"

Zhang Liuzhen waved his hand without turning, signaling he heard.

Upstairs, he pushed open the door and saw a figure standing by the window.

He stood tall; moonlight filtered through the tree branches outside, casting half his body in luminous jade-like glow, half in shadow—the interplay of light and dark swayed, as if darkness would soon swallow the radiance.

Zhang Liuzhen, holding the wine bottle, stood silently at the door for a long while before speaking: "Father."

Zhang Maocheng merely tilted his head slightly, his gaze not fully on his son as he turned back to the window: "Fanxi Courtyard has always been the residence of the Young Master of the Celestial Master's Mansion when he enters the Imperial Academy to study. The Imperial Academy has been open for only forty years in our dynasty, but before this, it had existed for nearly five hundred years—though with dynastic changes, it came and went intermittently, entirely at the whim of the reigning Emperor."

But whether the Academy existed—or even whether the Grand Pure Palace was destroyed by war multiple times—the Celestial Master's Mansion has always stood firm. Do you know why?"

Zhang Liuzhen's face was expressionless: "Because the Celestial Master's Mansion has never broken its lineage."

"Correct. But why has the Celestial Master's Mansion maintained its lineage?" Zhang Maocheng turned to gaze at Zhang Liuzhen: "I know—young men are full of spirit, always wanting the world to run as they imagine. I never stop you, because after enough head-butting, you'll always turn back. That too is cultivation!"

But I never expected that after all you've endured, now that you've grown so large, you still refuse to turn back."

Zhang Liuzhen looked at his father.

But his father stood with his back to the moonlight, his entire face hidden in shadow—he could not read his expression.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Zhang Liuzhen lifted the wine bottle and took a swallow, then walked slowly to the window, finally asking the question he'd long wanted to ask: "Father, since childhood you've taught me that my duty is to preserve the Dao lineage. When I was young, I never understood why 'preserve' and not 'spread'?"

Later, I finally understood—in the flood of mundane affairs, it's not just hard to spread the Dao lineage—it's already incredibly difficult just to preserve it."

He gave a short, bitter laugh, his face lit by moonlight with mockery: "Because the first resistance to spreading comes from my own Zhang family—selfish, narrow-minded, clinging to tradition. Father, because of your rule—passing only to sons, not daughters, only to the eldest legitimate, never to the illegitimate—how many Dao methods have we already lost, unable to recover? Can you even count them?"

So I ask you, Father—in your heart, is the Dao lineage of all under heaven more important, or the Zhang family's lineage?"

Zhang Maocheng stared at him, then asked after a long silence: "After you were ruined—your meridians severed, your Upper Dantian shattered, reduced to a waste—did you still intend to break the Zhang family's rule of passing only to the eldest legitimate son?"

"If you break this rule, the secret methods you learned since childhood will be open to all disciples—and from then on, more people will compete with you."

Zhang Liuzhen: "There are already plenty competing."

Zhang Maocheng: "At least they're still within manageable limits."

Zhang Liuzhen slowly shook his head: "Father, you all call me a genius. I once saw, in the depths of my mind, a complete future."

Zhang Maocheng's gaze did not move—those who draw closer to the Dao often gain insight, especially cultivators like us.

Not just Zhang Liuzhen—even I have glimpsed fragments of the future, though only trivial things.

This is not extraordinary. Many have sixth sense, even seventh, or higher.

Zhang Liuzhen: "Not fleeting fragments—a complete, unbroken future."

Zhang Maocheng finally showed surprise, then a pang of sorrow.

His son's talent reached this height—and yet he was ruined.

Zhang Liuzhen felt nothing, continued: "Father, if I do nothing, the Dao lineage will decline, the True Gods will weaken into slumber, all magical arts will fade. Even if the Zhang family still stands, it will be only an illusion—the true lineage will be gone, and the world will no longer believe in the Dao."

"What is a Dao that no one believes in?"

"What will the world become?" Zhang Liuzhen murmured softly: "When hearts have no anchor, one day the world will erupt in a struggle more terrible than war—then the Dao lineage will fall, hearts left without refuge…"

Zhang Maocheng's gaze darkened.

Seeing his silence, Zhang Liuzhen smiled and asked: "So in your eyes, the Zhang family's lineage is still more important?"

Zhang Maocheng: "Will what you're doing now even matter?"

"Who knows?" Zhang Liuzhen: "But if I do nothing, it will surely happen."

He murmured: "We must at least try."

Zhang Maocheng shook his head slightly: "Can a mayfly shake heaven and earth? If you hadn't done those things back then, you wouldn't be like this now…" Zhang Liuzhen: "Like you—growing up mechanically, marrying and having children as the clan demands, going to Jingcheng to serve as an official at the right age, then dying obediently to so-called fate—what's the difference between that and never having lived?"

"You!" Zhang Maocheng's anger surged from deep within—he pressed his chest, voice low: "Are you living well now?"

"No. But at least I'm alive!"

Zhang Liuzhen lifted the wine bottle and drank deeply, his voice heavy: "I won't die as I saw in that future. I won't give birth to a child who will commit countless atrocities. I won't let the Zhang family's Dao methods rot into useless paper, and I won't let the Dao lineage of all under heaven vanish."

Zhang Maocheng's pupils shrank; after a long silence, he spoke painfully: "You've felt it too? My Huang Da Xian is near… you…"

"Don't worry—I'll die before you," Zhang Liuzhen said with a crooked smile: "If one day you die before me, we should be glad—it means the future has changed."

Zhang Maocheng looked at his son with complex eyes, then said: "So you truly refuse to marry this year?"

Zhang Liuzhen replied: "Mm."

"Even if only by marrying can you possibly inherit the Celestial Master's Mansion safely, you still won't marry?"

Zhang Liuzhen nodded and sighed: "Why drag innocent people into this war?"

Zhang Maocheng sneered: "You've grown so close to Pan Yun—she's still Zhang Li's junior sister. Can you really be so indifferent?"

Zhang Liuzhen said calmly: "She is a Daoist Priest; from the moment she began cultivating, she was already within the game. I did not pull her in. And with her talent, she is material fit to be a pillar of the world. If I don't draw her in, the Dao itself won't let her escape."

Zhang Maocheng realized that over these past few years, his son had grown calmer—and colder.

In years past, he would never have allowed his friends to risk themselves; if there was even a sliver of possibility, he would strive to avoid it.

But now, he truly regarded Pan Yun as a friend—and truly pulled her into the game.

Something flashed through Zhang Maocheng's mind—he almost caught it, but it passed too swiftly; he pondered for a long while yet could not recapture that fleeting spark.

He had been silent too long. Zhang Liuzhen grew impatient and urged: "Father, it's getting late. If you came tonight to persuade me to marry, you might as well save your breath—I won't marry."

"Then I'm leaving." No sooner had Zhang Liuzhen spoken than Zhang Maocheng turned and walked away—his abruptness left Zhang Liuzhen momentarily stunned.

Yet the next moment, Zhang Maocheng had indeed vanished from the room.

Zhang Liuzhen let out a soft laugh, walked to the window, and propped himself up on one hand to continue drinking.

After leaving Fanxi Court, Pan Yun and Xue Shao, walking back toward Fengqi Court with their backs to the moonlight, gradually fell behind the crowd to whisper.

Pan Yun asked furtively: "Brother Xue, do you have some secret news?"

Xue Shao looked at her in disbelief: "You agreed so quickly just now—I thought you didn't care."

"I agreed because of my bond with Master Zhang. Gathering information is to see the whole picture—to protect others and myself."

Xue Shao glanced around, then clumsily formed a newly learned soundproofing formation, and whispered: "I occasionally learned that Master Zhang's health is failing—he may not have much time left..."

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow: "He looks ruddy-faced, quite healthy. Is his lifespan shortened, or...?"

"It could happen within the next one or two years—even this year."

Pan Yun's mouth dropped open. After a long pause, she found her voice: "Where did you get this information?"

Xue Shao looked at her.

"Oh, right—you're staying with Xue Taixu... Xue Taixu is one of Master Zhang's confidants..."

Pan Yun mumbled incoherently, still finding it hard to believe. She wiped her face and said: "I believe he's in declining health—I get that. Cultivation can lead to qi deviation, old injuries flaring up. But ruddy complexion, and dying in one or two years? This... this... why?"

Pan Yun doubted herself: "Have all these years of learning observation and auscultation been false? Is my physiognomy skill this terrible?"

Pan Yun had already decided in her mind: she should find a time to visit Master Zhang and use her talent to scan his aura.

If ordinary aura-reading couldn't detect it, surely her own innate talent could?

Xue Shao had only just begun cultivation and hadn't yet developed aura-reading awareness, but he had his own methods of investigation: "I've studied the lifespans of past Celestial Masters. I found that, aside from the first few, nearly none lived past sixty. Many died young. Shouldn't cultivators with higher cultivation live longer?"

Xue Shao was puzzled: "Your eldest brother is actually over fifty. But when I spent the New Year on Mount Sanqing, I studied him closely. Though he has a beard, is unkempt, and speaks with the wisdom of a middle-aged man, making him appear forty or fifty, if you examine his complexion, the corners of his eyes, and his hair and beard, you'll see he's barely different from a young man in his twenties or thirties. Remove his beard, keep him silent, and stand him beside Wang Cong—he could pass for his elder brother."

Pan Yun: "Master Zhang doesn't look old either—ruddy complexion, upright posture, brimming with vital energy. He should live a long time."

"But I trust my great-uncle wouldn't speak without cause—and I trust the historical records."

Pan Yun rubbed her chin: "By the way, I still don't know Master Zhang's cultivation realm. If he's already entered the Second Marquis, and free of illness or injury, living over a hundred years shouldn't be a problem."

Xue Shao: "If Master Zhang truly has a short lifespan, and Zhang Liuzhen now sends you to take his men to Japan, he's dragging you into the water."

Pan Yun waved dismissively: "It's fine. I've already been labeled as Zhang Liuzhen's person—I've been splashing around in the water for a long time. One more thing won't matter."

Xue Shao opened his mouth, then understood: "You've decided to help him."

Pan Yun: "My third senior brother and fourth senior sister are already on his boat. What other choice do I have?"

"If I abandon him to choose someone else, what kind of person would I become?" Pan Yun said. "Though I'm pragmatic, I have my principles."

Xue Shao couldn't help but chuckle.

Pan Yun turned and glared at him: "What are you laughing at? Did I say something wrong? My virtue is so noble..."

Xue Shao nodded rapidly: "You're right. Daoist Pan Yun has always been a person of noble virtue."

As they spoke, they reached the entrance to Fengqi Court and stopped together.

Xue Shao said: "Then your request for leave is all but guaranteed."

"After I leave, please look after them for me—especially the two in my room. The beauty is fine, but the other one mustn't be discovered."

Xue Shao nodded: "I'll keep watch."

Pan Yun nodded and waved her hand at him: "No need to see me off. Good night."