Volume Four: High Mountains and Flowing Water Chapter Thirty-Nine: Journeying Through Wind and Rain

On his way back, Chen Chen rode his little motorcycle down from the immortal mountain, having covered just a small fraction of the total journey.

It was then that he realized he was getting a bit lost.

Roads stretched out in all directions, intricate and complex.

Wherever he went, every path looked like the way forward, yet none of them felt entirely like the way home.

With no other choice, Chen Chen activated his navigation app on his phone, deciding to listen to the voice prompts and grope his way forward blindly.

At first, the trip went reasonably well; he could find the intersections and the paths leading onward.

However, after riding for a while, Chen Chen sensed something was wrong. Why did the deeper he went, the more he seemed to be wandering into remote local mountain villages?

Chen Chen figured that with the navigator persistently telling him to keep going straight, something must have gone wrong somewhere.

When he turned back to retrace his steps, the return route proved somewhat obstructed.

It seemed to be leading him onto an elevated highway toward far more distant places.

Chen Chen still retained his sense of orientation and knew for a fact that this was definitely not the way home.

If he kept going this way, he might end up traveling in the exact opposite direction, venturing deeper and farther until he reached some unknown, godforsaken place.

Chen Chen still possessed a fair amount of directional sense. When coming over, relying on the GPS, he hadn't paid much attention to the scenery along the sides.

On the way back, however, he still felt a sense of familiarity with the roads he had traversed.

Throughout this return journey, he felt a mix of bewilderment and helplessness.

Looking up, he saw the sky shrouded in dark clouds, with a fine, misty summer rain beginning to fall, pattering against Chen Chen's clothes.

"Damn it, on this trip, I barely know any friends in the places I visit. If this keeps up, unable to find the road ahead and with no familiar confidants by my side, if I run out of gas or money while walking, I'm afraid I'll meet my end right here." Chen Chen desperately wanted to avoid falling back into poverty and hardship, penniless and unable to find his way home.

Fortunately, after twisting and turning through various detours, he finally managed to find the right path.

At that moment, rain poured from the sky and fierce winds swept across the earth.

Chen Chen pressed forward with great reluctance as violent gale-force winds whipped up around him, easily reaching gale level judging by their momentum.

Glancing roughly at the roadsides, he saw that several large trees had been blown down.

Blocking half the roadway, they had become formidable roadblocks.

As the fierce wind continued to howl, Chen Chen drove onward, his eyes turning somewhat cold.

A sweep of his mystical vision revealed that far away in the distance, someone was setting up an altar and performing sorcery.

The epicenter of the ritual seemed to be the exact coordinates where Chen Chen was currently located.

That person brandished an innate Trigram feather fan reminiscent of Zhuge Liang, leaping and striking about. Observing the footwork and the formation, executing several consecutive leaps followed by a strike of the feather fan, the figure launched a fierce assault directly at him.

Witnessing this scene, far from being startled or afraid, Chen Chen felt a faint surge of fighting spirit rise within him.

The origin of this grievance could largely be traced back to the fact that Chen Chen had chosen the fragrant incense stick over the feather fan, infuriating the Daoist master. The master wanted to teach him a lesson, making him deeply realize what he had missed out on, or perhaps out of exasperation that he refused to recognize good jade, failing to choose the feather fan as his signature Daoist treasure.

However, Chen Chen had already chosen the fragrant incense stick, and it was right there with him on his vehicle.

The rain fell amidst the raging wind, threatening to drench his chosen incense stick, yet that had been his choice from the very beginning. No matter how much wind and waves you conjure, it could never shake my original intent.

Seeing that the Daoist master refused to relent, anger surged from the bottom of Chen Chen's heart as well.

He twisted the throttle, then suddenly eased it off by a fraction.

His right hand leaped up, tapping rapidly and continuously against the motorcycle's handlebar. A model of an authentic innate Trigram Daoist treasure materialized out of thin air, hurtling through the illusory void straight toward the location of the person casting spells against him.

It sped toward the shifting footwork and the various phantom images of the feather fan striking down.

After a bout of mystical combat, the illusions of the feather fan casting spells and attacking him dissolved away, and Chen Chen once again fixed his gaze on the road ahead.

At that moment, the heavy rain was still pouring, and the fierce wind was still howling.

Freed from the harassment of the distant spell battle, the path ahead of Chen Chen became much smoother.

Yet after traveling for only a short while, the troublemaker launched an even more ferocious attack using the feather fan.

This time, rather than a mere sparring match, every single leap and strike aimed at the focal point of the array felt like a direct onslaught directed at Chen Chen and his little motorcycle.

The direction was no longer ahead of him, but off to the left. With several consecutive leaps, the attacks nearly knocked down large trees.

Chen Chen and the motorcycle he was riding instantly began to sway unsteadily amidst the raging gale.

However, with his mind solely set on returning home, Chen Chen had no spare time to linger and duel with the Daoist master fighting him across space and time.

Chen Chen's hands moved repeatedly, tapping the handlebar rhythmically, strike after strike, harmonizing his own being with the established Daoist essence to achieve a state of unity between man and nature.

Griping the handlebars tightly, he sped swiftly away in the direction of home.

As he rode on, the person engaging in the mystic battle ceased launching further attacks.

Judging by the sheer ferocity of those assaults, it was undoubtedly the work of someone akin to an immortal master.

Well-versed in the fortunes of heaven and earth, as well as the ways of great rivers and mountains, they executed Daoist arts and footwork seamlessly with every leap.

Having survived this ordeal, Chen Chen finally let out a sigh of relief.

At this point, his mastery of Daoist arts was profound, and through this chance encounter akin to making friends through a fight, he had engaged in a genuine exchange and duel with his adversary.

On the way back, the mountains still stood firm upon the earth.

The wind and rain continued to intermingle, and the endless rain poured down, soaking Chen Chen's clothes.

From head to toe, very little of his attire remained dry.

Chen Chen continued his journey back, spanning an exaggerated distance of over a hundred kilometers, as if traveling across thousands of miles.

By the time he returned to his familiar town district, the heavy rain had gradually subsided.

Leaving only a lingering drizzle, pattering softly before his eyes.

Such weather conditions had persisted for several hours.

When Chen Chen finally arrived home, the rain had passed, and the world was bathed in clear skies.

Mist wreathed the high peaks in the distance, bearing a striking resemblance to the drifting smoke guarding the mountains he had witnessed on the immortal mountain earlier, though slightly different from the scenery of the landscape guarding his hometown.

By now, the wind and rain had completely cleared away.

That phrase about the landscape guarding his hometown required a great deal of foreshadowing, and Chen Chen temporarily had no time to deal with it.

After changing into clean clothes at home, Chen Chen went to rest.

As dusk approached, Chen Chen sent a message via his phone stating that he had matters to attend to, took a day off from school, and spent the day getting his bearings straight.

That very evening, he boarded the public bus heading back toward the high school where he studied.

In the ensuing years, whenever Chen Chen ventured out into the martial world, he maintained a degree of caution.

The grand chessboard of the mortal world frequently shifted; only by remaining constantly vigilant and continuously self-improving could one walk more safely and smoothly.

As Chen Chen walked the mortal realm, how many others were also traversing this world?

How many walked without grievances, how many were free from the grudges of enemies, and how many lacked a bit of cultivation or craft?

Immersed in the mortal world, Chen Chen's journey to visit the immortal mountain had successfully yielded worldly treasures and a satisfying return.

Yet the return trip was beset by wind and rain blocking the path, and grievances turning into personal feuds.

Not long after, Chen Chen's codename was bestowed with the Daoist title of Pure Breeze.

Though the underlying intention remained unknown, such were the rumors circulating through the martial world.

Those vain and grasping scoundrels, those petty thieves, and those who sought overnight wealth to instantly seize the fame and fortune others had spent years earning, gradually surfaced from the shadows.

Taking advantage of people when they slept, exploiting others in moments of peril, and striking when guards were down.

It was an organization representing a moral decline and corrupted human hearts.

No one knew why they gradually rotted, descended into darkness, and strayed from the righteous path.

There are countless journeys in human life; every single leg holds grievances, and every stage entails gains and losses.

Chen Chen's journey had returned to the campus once more. His time for growth was limited, and every single day was irreplaceable.

He needed to develop, to grow, and to survive ever better.