"The hand I chopped down from the heavens back then? Of course it's still alive."
Butcher and Grandpa Blind walked off, one in front and one behind, gradually fading into the distance. Their steps seemed slow, but they moved incredibly fast. Butcher's voice echoed back: "That hand—I traded my lower half for it. The divine flesh was probably refined into spirit pills and eaten, so only the bone remains."
"Shepherd boy, remember to come home for New Year's!" Grandpa Blind called out from afar.
Quinn Shepherd watched them go, a small smile on his face. He waved at their backs and shouted, "I'll definitely come home for New Year's!"
It seemed Grandpa Blind saw him waving—without turning back, he simply lifted his arm and waved in return.
"Grandpa Blind really is something else."
Quinn sighed in awe, "Even at that distance, he can see everything clear as day."
Not long after, a heavy voice boomed out, echoing across the grasslands: "Quinn! Junior brother! Brotherrrr—"
Quinn recognized Libationer Barrett's voice and quickly shouted back, "I'm over here!"
The voice kept calling: "Doctor Quinn! Doctooor! Torrr—"
Quinn answered again, but Libationer Barrett's voice kept echoing in the distance. Quinn realized, "Barrett must still be hundreds of li away. His voice can reach here, but mine can't carry that far."
Lynn Ling woke up and said quickly, "Let me try, cowherd!" With a wave, she cast a fire spell—a ball of flame burst in midair, sending waves of heat rolling across the sky.
Quinn secretly praised her cleverness and laughed, "No use—he's still hundreds of li away, can't see it."
Lina the Spirit Fox and the Jadehide Ox also woke up. The ox glanced around, not seeing Butcher or Grandpa Blind, and asked, "Where'd the old masters go?"
"They've already left."
Quinn heard Barrett still calling, switching up the names as he shouted. He sighed—Barrett's voice really was loud, and he could talk endlessly. Hard to believe such a rough guy could be so chatty. "Let's head toward the border first. If Barrett can't find us, he'll definitely go there."
The Jadehide Ox revealed its true form. Quinn took Lina the Spirit Fox and climbed onto its back, with Lynn Ling jumping up too. The ox broke into a run toward the border. Quinn glanced at the girl beside him, "Is your injury healed?"
Lynn Ling nodded, "Not even a scar left. Look—there was a sword wound on my waist, but now it's completely gone."
She lifted her clothes, revealing her waist, and turned to the side. "Right here."
Her skin was smooth and pale, even at her waist—clearly she'd never spent much time in the sun. Quinn's own skin was darker; as a kid, he used to swim shirtless in the river all summer long, getting sunburned and sometimes chased by giant fish snapping at his backside.
Ever since Quinn arrived at the Academy, he hadn't had a chance to run wild shirtless—his skin was gradually turning pale. But compared to Lynn Ling, he still looked a bit darker.
Quinn reached out and touched her old wound—he could still feel a slight bump beneath his fingers.
Lynn Ling felt ticklish and burst out laughing.
Quinn said, "Hold still. I'll dissolve the clotted blood here—if I don't, it'll stay swollen."
Lynn Ling quickly stopped moving, holding up her clothes. Quinn transformed his own yuanqi into Azure Dragon qi, letting fine threads of energy weave through his fingertips. He carefully guided the qi into her skin, dissolving the trapped blood.
Lynn Ling just felt a tingling, ticklish sensation and giggled again. "You're making me itch! I've got a ticklish spot there, you know."
Quinn didn't even look up. "Bear with it. The itch'll go away soon, but it'll sting a bit."
After a while, Lynn Ling felt a prickling pain and quickly looked down. She saw Quinn wiping away the blood that had seeped out of her skin with a Heavenly Fragrance Silk handkerchief. Once the blood was gone, not a trace was left on her skin.
Lynn Ling let her clothes fall back into place and blinked her big eyes. "Divine Doctor, I've got a few more wounds on my back—any scars left?"
Lina the Spirit Fox piped up crisply, "I treated the wounds on your back. Before I put on the medicine, I squeezed out the clotted blood—there won't be any scars."
Lynn Ling glanced at her—the little fox was smiling sweetly, but it was a fake smile.
"Hmph, little vixen!" both the girl and the fox thought at the same time.
Lina the Spirit Fox blinked. "Sister Lynn, how old are you this year?"
Lynn Ling's eyes flickered. "How old are you?"
"I'm twelve."
"I'm sixteen."
"You're a year older than the young master!"
......
Lynn Ling felt like the little fox had just stabbed her twice in the heart—she was deeply wounded. This fox might be tiny, but her attacks were vicious and unexpected, leaving Lynn completely defenseless.
She'd long since noticed the little fox was up to no good—every night she deliberately crawled into Quinn's bed, pretending not to know any better, acting all cutesy and shameless, with zero restraint.
But now, this little fox has started her own offensive.
Lynn Ling, for all her usual cheer and easygoing manner, is a girl with both boldness and subtlety. She smiled sweetly, teasing, "Lina, your fur is so soft—why haven’t you tried turning your paws into human hands?"
Lina yawned, squinting her eyes and replying, "Because young master likes it."
"Lina, why haven’t you taken human form yet?"
"Because young master likes it."
"Look, your pupils aren’t the same as ours."
"Because young master likes it."
...
Lynn Ling was utterly defeated. This little fox’s defenses were impenetrable, every attack bounced back like a spell from the Grand Thunderclap Temple’s Mirror Flower, Empty Wall—completely watertight.
"Where’d you learn all these tricks, you little vixen?" Lynn grumbled, no match at all.
Lina was smug. At Listening Rain Pavilion, she’d picked up plenty of these skills from the girls there.
Suddenly Lynn found herself both amused and exasperated—she was actually getting jealous of a little fox! How undignified for a princess. She had the looks and the figure, and even if Quinn was a little blind and kept saying she was chubby, she wasn’t bad at all. No matter how sharp that fox’s tricks, she hadn’t even taken human form yet.
This chapter isn’t over ^.^, please click next page to continue reading!
She was already holding all the cards—there was no need to get jealous over a little fox spirit.
They hadn’t reached the border yet when Libationer Barrett finally caught up. Seeing that Butcher was already gone, the burly man looked utterly lost, then burst into loud sobs, cursing Heavenblade as he wept.
Quinn comforted him for a while, saying, "It's not that he doesn't care about you—he just thinks you talk too much and nag him all the time, so he left first. Actually, Grandpa Butcher cares about you a lot. Whenever he hears you’re in danger, he’s always the first to rush over. Don’t cry, don’t cry. We’re almost at the frontier—how can the Martial Khan let people see him bawling with snot and tears everywhere?"
Libationer Barrett wiped away his tears and began pouring out grievances, starting from his childhood with Heavenblade—how he was spanked for wetting the bed, punished during training, made to wash his master’s underwear, and even taken to the next village to steal ducks for soup. He told everything, leaving nothing out.
Quinn looked helplessly at Lynn Ling for rescue, but she could only shrug—there was nothing she could do.
Imperial Academy.
The Young Patriarch quietly packed his things, slung a small bundle over his shoulder, left his official sash on the ground, and hung his seal on the Grand Academy Hall’s door. Then he turned and looked back at the Imperial Academy, smiling softly.
The Enforcer Elder hurried over, carrying a small bamboo basket on his back. Inside were an umbrella and a few scrolls and books.
"Let’s go. No need to trouble anyone else," the Young Patriarch said with a smile.
The two of them headed down the mountain, disturbing no one. When they reached the mountain gate, the Dragon-Qilin quickly got up and wagged its tail.
"My time is nearly up. I can’t take you with me anymore."
The Young Patriarch patted the Dragon-Qilin’s head, shaking his own. "If you follow me, all you’ll see is me growing old and dying. Little friend, you’re free now."
Click.
The chain around the Dragon-Qilin’s neck unlocked. The beast looked confused, shaking its big head. "Master, if I don’t follow you, where should I go?"
"You were born free. You can go wherever you please."
The Young Patriarch waved, looking at the Imperial Academy he had built with his own hands, eyes full of reluctant affection. He suddenly turned away: "I thought I’d grow old here, but today I’m leaving. I don’t want to die in the Academy."
The old and the young walked out of the city. Outside the capital, the Young Patriarch asked the Enforcer Elder to stop, then strode toward the man waiting across the road.
"Dao-friend."
The Imperial Preceptor saluted him. "You’re leaving so soon? Not planning to formally resign to the emperor?"
The Young Patriarch smiled. "I arrived with nothing, not for the emperor’s sake, so there’s no need to leave for him either. You invited me here, now you see me off—I’m content."
The Imperial Preceptor sighed. "You can face life and death head-on. Your state of mind is so far above mine—I don’t know how many more years I’ll need to reach it. Let me walk you out."
The two walked side by side, with the Enforcer Elder trailing behind. The Imperial Preceptor said, "Knowing you’re leaving leaves a big hole in my heart. Of all people in this world, no one understands me like you do. With you gone, there’s one less person I can truly talk to."
The Young Patriarch replied, "Your ambitions are vast, your road is rough, full of obstacles. I can’t teach you anything more—you’ll have to rely on yourself now."
The Imperial Preceptor stopped. "Back then, I wanted to become your disciple. Why didn’t you accept me?"
The Young Patriarch answered frankly, "I realized you were better than me, destined for greater things. I was ashamed to be your teacher, so I couldn’t take you as a disciple. What you want to do, I never even dreamed of, and could never achieve. I’ve learned much from you myself, so I couldn’t be your teacher."
The Imperial Preceptor caught up, saying, "Lately I’ve been confused and troubled. Tell me, do you think the path we’re on is the right one?"
"In the eyes of so-called orthodoxy, our path isn’t the right one."
The Young Patriarch stopped, looking him in the eye. "We founded basic, higher, and grand academies, reformed the sects, gathered all sects’ knowledge to teach scholars, put commoners on par with sect disciples. In their eyes, that’s heresy and unforgivable rebellion. But in our hearts, this is the true dao! Don’t mind what others say—right is right, it doesn’t turn wrong just because of the barking of petty men."