The old man watched Li Yuan’s stunned, speechless expression and added another remark, his tone matter-of-fact.
“I do kill people, and my methods can be considered cruel, but those were only enemies with whom I shared a blood feud or those who shared a heavy karmic bond with me. Why would I kill others for no reason? If I truly slaughtered all living beings just to ascend, my enemies would have been beyond count; I likely wouldn't have lived to see the day the lightning tribulation descended. On the path of cultivation, kill those who should be killed and don't touch those who shouldn't—I at least have that much sense.”
Li Yuan fell into a long silence after hearing these words.
He stood there as the expression on his face slowly shifted from shock to complexity, and then from complexity to a certain indescribable admiration. Looking at the gaunt old man before him, he suddenly felt that all his previous perceptions of this person had been completely overturned.
A cultivator who had practiced blood fiend techniques for thousands of years had sacrificed trillions of living beings for his ascension, but he used... livestock? Was that even right?
He only killed his enemies, maintained a sense of proportion in his actions, and even after being rejected by the entire world, he could exhaust his soul and struggle for centuries just for one woman.
What kind of evil cultivator was this? He was practically more upright than most righteous cultivators!
After thinking about it, Li Yuan truly couldn't find any words to describe his current mood. Finally, he slowly raised his hand and gave the old man a thumbs-up.
The gesture was made very solemnly. Combined with the look of shock and admiration on Li Yuan's face, it made the old man freeze for a moment.
He blinked, looking at the thumb held up in front of him. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say.
After a good while, he shook his head slightly, a faint, bitter smile appearing on his face.
“Is Fellow Daoist praising me or mocking me?”
Li Yuan lowered his hand and let out a long breath of turbid air. In over a hundred years, he had seen countless cultivators of all kinds. Yet this old man was the first to make him feel like his prior understanding of the world had been pinned to the ground and rubbed over and over again.
Compared to this old man, Li Yuan felt like he was the one who looked more like an evil cultivator.
At the very least, no small number of enemies had died by his hand. Though they were all people who deserved to die, if one were to truly discuss karmic debt, the weight on his shoulders before his tribulation was likely much heavier than that of this old man who only killed livestock.
Although that karmic debt had long since been washed clean by the lightning tribulation, it didn't stop him from feeling a subtle sense of shame at this moment.
“Praising you, of course...”
Li Yuan exhaled sharply. His mind was currently a mess, and he just wanted to be alone and quiet for a bit. But then he thought of something, and like a gambler who had lost too much trying to win back a round, he asked with a trace of unwilling curiosity:
“That High Priest... the technique he practices was taught by you, right? Don't tell me he also uses livestock to cultivate blood fiend energy.”
“Oh, he doesn't.”
The old man nodded and sighed.
“That little fellow followed me for over three hundred years and has always been loyal. His goal was purely to seek longevity... so I fashioned a fake spiritual root for him and passed on a small portion of my power as well.”
So the High Priest didn't have much karmic debt either... At this point, Li Yuan was completely convinced. Thinking about it this way, he was more like the villain—not only had he interrupted someone's ritual, but he had also casually smashed their puppet... oh, and there were those villages he had purified along the way.
The more he thought, the more Li Yuan felt a bit of guilt.
Li Yuan sat for a long while until that indefinable feeling in his heart slowly subsided. He looked up at Vernas lying peacefully in the coffin, then at the gaunt old man, and suddenly felt he should do something—if he didn't, he would feel like he owed them.
He hesitated for a moment, then waved his hand.
His storage space opened silently, and a pile of items appeared out of thin air on the low table. There were two pills—one entirely white with a faint glow, the other dark gold—and a neatly stacked pile of materials beside them. Every single one of these items was enough to make Soul Transformation stage cultivators fight to the death on the Kyushu Continent, yet here they were, piled casually on the table like a street stall.
The old man stared at the pile of items for several seconds before slowly looking up at Li Yuan, his cloudy eyes filled with confusion.
“Fellow Daoist, this is—”
“Consider it compensation,” Li Yuan said in a casual tone. He pointed at the white pill. “This one is for repairing the soul. Your soul is currently severely damaged; this medicine can extend your life for a while.” He then pointed to the dark gold pill. “This one is for healing; it will be useful for the internal injuries in your body.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the pile of materials, and continued, “These materials are for refining puppets. Their quality is better than your previous one. I smashed one of your puppets, so these are to pay you back. While they might not exactly match your original one, they should be more than enough to refine a new one.”
The old man’s mouth hung open as his expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. He looked down at the items on the table, his lips trembling slightly. It took a long time before he squeezed out a sentence: “Fellow Daoist, these—these things are too precious, I—”
“Just take them,” Li Yuan interrupted him with a casual wave of his hand. “I don't like owing people favors.”
The old man was silent for a long time before letting out a long sigh. He pushed himself up from his knees and bowed deeply to Li Yuan.
“Thank you, Fellow Daoist.”
Li Yuan accepted the bow calmly, then raised his hand to form a sword art seal, tapping the old man’s forehead.
“And this.”
In an instant, a Buddhist technique was imprinted into the old man's sea of consciousness.
“This is a Buddhist soul-soothing technique,” Li Yuan explained. “In the future, when you use this method on the mediums during the festival, it will protect their souls when the vow power is poured in, preventing any further damage. Those girls will no longer lose their memories, nor will they die. It’s very simple to use; for someone of your level, you can master it with just a bit of practice.”
The old man stared at Li Yuan for a long time, his eyes gradually reddening.
“Fellow Daoist...” His voice was emotional, and he looked as though he were about to cry. “This act of yours is like a second life for me—for Vernas—and for those children.”
With that, he clasped his hands and prepared to drop to his knees.
Li Yuan reached out and caught his arm.
“There is no need for that.” His tone remained gentle, but the strength in his hand was undeniable. “Though our paths are different, I truly have no right to judge everything you've done for her. These things aren't some great favor; just consider it—forming a good karma.”
The old man looked up at him, his cloudy eyes swirling with too many emotions. His lips opened and closed several times, but in the end, he only nodded vigorously. Then he took two steps back and bowed deeply to Li Yuan once more.
“Xuan Wei will remember your kindness today in his heart. If there is ever a need for my service in the future, I will not hesitate even at the cost of my life.”
Li Yuan waved his hand and stood up, smoothing the hem of his cyan robe. Everything that needed to be done was finished, and everything that needed to be said had been spoken; there was no point in staying longer. He turned to walk toward the door of the thatched cottage, but stopped halfway and looked back at the old man.
“Right—I have yet to ask for your Daoist name.”
The old man straightened up, his expression more solemn than before. “My birth name is Xuan Wei, and my Daoist title is Daoist Qing Lan.”
Li Yuan nodded slightly, committing the name to memory, then said frankly, “My name is Li Yuan. I won't give a Daoist title; I haven't used those things in a long time. Saying it would only make us feel like strangers.”
Daoist Qing Lan was startled for a moment, and then a faint smile appeared on his face. This free-spirited manner reminded him of himself from a long time ago.
The two looked at each other and nodded slightly, marking their formal acquaintance.
Rate on N.U.
