Chapter 4: Where Does This Radiant Spiritual Luminescence Come From?

Thirty-Mile Village lies west of Yuyang County, where there is also a cultivation ground called Fengxian Mountain Manor.

This morning at Chen hour, Old Qiu took his daughter to borrow grain; near Bai Shui River, he happened to meet the immortals descending from the mountain to collect tribute.

At first, Old Qiu noticed nothing amiss—he merely thought the lead immortal seemed deeply fond of his daughter, staring at her repeatedly and praising her for her radiant spiritual luminescence.

Old Qiu originally believed this was a good omen.

Only when he returned home carrying the grain sack with his daughter did Niu Er, the official overseeing tribute transport, come to offer congratulations, saying his family’s tribute could be reduced by three-tenths—if they simply sent the daughter up the mountain. That was when he realized the sky was falling.

Though human sacrifice for elixirs was not unheard of in Daya, the Qiu couple had never imagined such a fate could befall their own daughter.

At that moment, neighbors and kin had gathered at the Qiu home, while Old Qiu sat on a stone bench, expression blank, silent as a stone.

“What is this ‘radiant spiritual luminescence’ and ‘boundless immortal fortune’? Ru Ru has never even seen an immortal—how could she possibly have such things…? The immortals must have mistaken her for someone else…”

“They are immortals. If they say it, what can we lowly mortals do?”

“The Daya laws cannot touch immortals. Since they’ve spoken, no one can save Ru Ru.”

Seeing her mother weeping uncontrollably in the courtyard, five-year-old Qiu Ru was terrified.

She had merely been mischievous, disobeying her mother by insisting on going to her grandfather’s house in Thirty-Mile Village, thinking she’d angered her mother with that.

Seeing her mother gasping through sobs, Qiu Ru ran over with her tiny legs and wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck: “Mama, I… I’m sorry. I’ll be good from now on. Don’t cry—I won’t be naughty anymore.”

“What good is it now to be obedient? I told you not to go—and you went anyway!”

Li Shuping, nearly hysterical, shoved her daughter to the ground, then pulled her into her arms and burst into uncontrollable weeping.

After a long silence, Qiu the steward raised his head, lips trembling: “I’ll go to the county magistrate’s office tomorrow. I’ll beg His Excellency to help us—we were once acquainted when I served in the Ji household…”

Ji You had heard rumors at the restaurant and come outside the city; now he had been watching the crowd for a long time.

Since crossing into the Qingyun World, his life had been harder, but overall quiet and stable.

He had no great ambitions—who in their right mind would study philosophy anyway?

Since his old world was gone forever, he simply wanted to cultivate to some degree, become a legendary outlaw in two years, and guarantee himself steady food, meat on the table.

But he had never imagined that this seemingly stable life was so fragile.

When immortals descend upon the world, they decide who lives and who dies.

What we call stability is merely misfortune not yet falling upon us.

Ji You did not linger long—grief, unlike joy, is not an emotion meant to be shared with crowds.

He returned along the path to his ancestral home, pushed open the gate, entered the second courtyard, where the eccentric scholar next door still sat atop a tree, turning pages of a book; upon seeing Ji You return, the scholar immediately rose.

But this time, he did not hurry away—he looked down at Ji You from above.

“The Qiu family is in trouble.”

The scholar’s name was Kuangcheng, a scion of a scholarly family in Yuyang County, the young master of a wealthy household adjacent to Ji You’s ancestral home.

He was the kind of boy who always carried water for widows, guided the blind—exactly the kind other parents praised.

In Yuyang County, he was famous, regarded as a kind, upright gentleman of ancient virtue.

Because their homes were neighbors, he was one of the few people Ji You knew in this world.

When Ji You first arrived here, unable to speak Yuyang dialect, he had only learned to speak by listening to Kuangcheng’s recitations from the tree.

This was the story Ji You knew.

What he did not know was that Kuangcheng and Ji You had been inseparable childhood friends.

Later, Ji You’s son became idle, fond of wine and women, turning into a dissolute playboy, while Kuangcheng studied hard, upright and righteous—naturally, they drifted apart.

Yet upon hearing of the Qiu family’s plight, Kuangcheng had scoured countless texts and found a way out, waiting here for him.

In his view, the Qiu family had once helped Ji You; this was his final favor to his old friend.

After hearing the scholar’s words, Ji You nodded: “I just came from the Qiu home. I know about Qiu Ru.”

“If you know, then you shouldn’t still be here.”

“Where should I be?”

Kuangcheng stood up from the branch: “You should be at the Fang residence, begging Fang Ruoyao to intervene.”

“Fengxian Mountain Manor traces its lineage to the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion. Even ordinary cultivators dare not meddle in this matter—but the Heavenly Book Academy has the duty to oversee the Dao, and as Daya’s holy sect, it alone can.”

“Fang Ruoyao is now a disciple of the Heavenly Book Academy. If you can persuade her to act, the Qiu girl may have a sliver of hope.”

Kuangcheng spoke without pause, his gaze fixed on Ji You.

In the Qingyun World, there is an old saying: if an immortal decrees you die at three, who dares keep you alive till five? So this situation should be unsolvable.

But two immortals from the Heavenly Book Academy are currently in Yuyang Town—that is the variable, and variables usually mean the key to breaking the deadlock.

In his view, that key lies in the county magistrate’s daughter.

Yet Fang Ruoyao had once forcibly broken off her engagement to Ji You; in his eyes, asking Ji You to beg her was no easy thing.

Ji You looked up at him after hearing this: “Can becoming a disciple of the Heavenly Book Academy save her?”

“It is the only solution.”

“How did you learn of this solution, Brother Kuang?”

“Naturally, from a book.”

Kuangcheng, thinking he doubted it, tossed the book over the courtyard wall.

Touching the familiar pages, Ji You could not help but recall his own helpless, blind self when he first arrived.

Kuang’s insight from the book was correct: only the Heavenly Book Academy could force Fengxian Mountain Manor to relent.

Seeing Ji You fall silent, the scholar spoke: “Did you see it?”

“I saw it.”

Ji You closed the book and gazed far north toward the crimson sky.

He saw the unpredictability of fate, the helplessness of destiny, and the fact that the Qingyun World would soon lose one brilliant, legendary outlaw.

Kuangcheng, perched on the tree, stared at him in confusion—Ji You did not head straight for the Fang residence. Instead, with a solemn face, he pushed open the door, shut the windows, and drew black curtains over them.

When the Three Lower Realms are perfected, one enters the immortal registry, free from mortal law, eligible to join the Heavenly Book Academy…

He had originally cultivated with the goal of becoming a legendary outlaw, thinking he had plenty of time; now he was still two realms short, and he had only two days left.

Ji You sat upon his bed, as celestial spiritual energy surged into his body, burning like fire within him.

This realm—he must force the celestial spiritual energy into his spiritual spring, and he had only one day. It was nine deaths, one life.

Meanwhile, outside the city, at the Qiu home, Old Qiu lay on his bed, listening to his wife’s sobs, unable to sleep all night.

When dawn finally came, he immediately hauled his grain cart into the city, exchanged all remaining grain for silver, packed it into a sack, and rushed to the residence of County Magistrate Fang Zhongzheng, hoping to save his daughter.

But before Old Qiu could approach the Fang residence, the guards at the roadblock stopped him.

Today, Fang Zhongzheng and his daughter Fang Ruoyao were hosting a banquet for the Heavenly Book Academy immortals from Shengjing; the household had been bustling since dawn, servants carrying delicacies through halls and courtyards like it was New Year’s.

With his daughter’s future and the family’s fate at stake, the magistrate had issued a strict order last night: no one was to be admitted today, for fear of disturbing the immortals.

But Old Qiu refused to give up—he knelt in the middle of the long street, banging his head against the ground, begging the heavens for mercy; his cries gradually drew a crowd.

“Isn’t that Qiu Zhong?”

“His daughter’s to be sacrificed for elixirs—he’s come to beg the magistrate for mercy. But how could the magistrate dare interfere with immortals? Old Qiu will kneel here till he dies without seeing anyone.”

“Hey, where’s Ji You?”

“They say he peeked outside last night and ran away in terror—you know, when the Ji family offended the immortals, he did the same thing, completely broken by fear.”

From dawn to dusk, the Fang residence banquet had long ended, yet Qiu Zhong still knelt in place, unable to meet the magistrate.

At this moment, a scholar in plain robes walked down the road toward the magistrate’s office, holding a volume of the Xia Law and Immortal Regulations; wherever he passed, people greeted him as “Young Master Kuang.”

He reached the guards blocking the road, looked at the emaciated, kneeling Qiu Zhong, and felt three parts pity, seven parts fury.

If it were Ji You kneeling here instead of Qiu Zhong, perhaps this situation could still be resolved.

Because when the magistrate forcibly broke off the engagement, his reputation in the county suffered; if Ji You were kneeling here, even to save face, the Fang family would have to let him in.

And if he could meet the two Heavenly Book Academy elders, there would still be a sliver of hope.

But since last night, Ji You had locked himself indoors and never stepped out again.

Then he remembered: when the Ji family fell into disaster two years ago, Ji You had abandoned his parents and fled in the night—just like today.

He never expected that coward to face the immortals, yet even to sacrifice his pride and beg Fang Ruoyao for the Qiu girl, he could not bring himself to do it.

Kuangcheng walked grimly toward the guards at the gate: “Please inform your master—I, Kuang, request an audience with Miss Fang.”

“Ah, Young Master Kuang. My mistress is currently sipping tea with the immortals from Shengjing—she has no time for visitors.”

“I can wait. Whenever she’s free. After all, I was once her classmate. She leaves for the capital tomorrow—I have only today to bid her farewell.”

“This…”

The guard, hearing he came to see Miss Fang off, hesitated, then said: “Wait here, Young Master Kuang. I’ll go inform the household.”

Kuangcheng bowed deeply: “Thank you.”

(End of Chapter)