Chapter Forty-Three: Urged On by the Day

Ji Yun’s gaze was firmly fixed upon Xu Yuan, and seeing that there was not the slightest hint of jest upon Xu Yuan’s face—his very voice plain and resolute—Ji Yun could not help but grow serious himself.

“In your view, Master Xu, is this great calamity truly unavoidable?”

There was more than a little apprehension in Ji Yun’s voice. Only the ambitious and those with nothing to lose ever longed for times of chaos, believing that disorder would provide them the chance to achieve glory, each one wishing for turmoil as if it were their moment of triumph.

But for Ji Yun, a man blessed with a loving wife and children, established in middle age, his career flourishing, his two children both outstanding in their own right—he could hardly hope for any such upheaval.

Wasn’t life now perfectly fine?

If chaos truly arrived, who could say what might happen?

“Do not cling to wishful thinking. It is inevitable,” Xu Yuan replied with certainty. “Abandon illusions and see reality as it is. It is always better to be prepared than to be caught off guard. Forewarned is forearmed.”

Ji Yun drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled, his face clouding, but he still cupped his hands in gratitude. “Thank you for your guidance, Master Xu. The Ji family’s Security Escort will take action accordingly.”

Xu Yuan nodded slightly. “I, too, would not wish to return one day and find not a single familiar soul remaining.”

In truth, aside from this reason, Xu Yuan harbored his own private motives. Now, seekers of immortality and enlightenment arose everywhere, and perhaps some had indeed stumbled upon certain clues—clues Xu Yuan himself also needed.

The only difference was that those people sought to ascend, while Xu Yuan sought to descend.

But whether one wished to ascend or descend, a “passage” was needed—such as the self-operating Lower Realm Pool. If he could find a way to control it, Xu Yuan’s true form might also descend to the mortal world.

Such knowledge could not be found in the heavens. Whoever the master of the Celestial Palace once was, Xu Yuan was certain that the palace was now but an empty shell—like a human skin with all the veins, flesh, and bones gone.

Moreover, the palace itself bore no signs of damage or battle. Xu Yuan surmised that those who once dwelled there—immortals or gods, it mattered not—had departed by some orderly means.

And they had left with ample time, bringing along all they could carry. Not so much as a page of scripture or a single elixir remained—only the basic infrastructure such as the Lower Realm Pool, which had operated in the empty Celestial Palace for untold ages, until Xu Yuan arrived and finally set it to some use.

Should he reveal the palace’s true state to the world, countless hearts would surely be shattered.

Those mortals, glimpsing only fleeting celestial omens, spun endless dreams of glory in their minds. Only Xu Yuan, who truly lived there, knew the immortals had long since vanished.

Of course, it would be unjust to say the empty shell of the palace was entirely worthless. To live there did indeed prolong one’s life, banishing fatigue, hunger, thirst—a fulfillment of many mortal legends.

It was truly a land once graced by immortals, and even if its original masters had fled, to an ordinary person it would still be a paradise upon earth.

If Xu Yuan had not been so alone up there, perhaps he would not yearn so deeply to return to the mortal realm.

Since he had lingered so long above, with none able to ascend, it fell to him to find a way down.

With no leads to be found in heaven, he could only seek solutions among mortals.

Given how seldom he could descend, it was impossible to accomplish this himself.

Thus, it was wiser to nurture trustworthy forces among men, though it was too soon to tell them everything. For now, a word of warning would suffice.

That day, Xu Yuan remained at the Ji Family Escort Agency and visited nowhere else.

During the day, Ji Yun inquired about his thoughts; Xu Yuan remained indifferent, as if his earlier words had been but a passing fancy.

Ji Wu, however, was deeply invested, pestering Xu Yuan with question after question.

The day seemed to pass in an instant. Before long, the sun began its slow descent, and dusk crept in.

Ji Wu was secretly delighted. In the past, whenever Master Xu visited, he never stayed more than half a day.

But this time, he had lingered nearly a full day and still showed no intention of leaving. Could it be he meant to stay a few days? The thought filled Ji Wu with joy.

“I’ll go and fetch more tea for Master Xu,” Ji Wu said, seizing the chance to slip away. He rushed straight to Cai Shulan and urged his mother to ready a guest room for Xu Yuan.

“Master Xu is staying the night?” Cai Shulan was surprised—they had invited him many times before, but he had never agreed.

“Well, he hasn’t left yet, has he? Let’s show our sincerity. Perhaps if Master Xu sees our earnestness, he’ll stay a night or two,” Ji Wu said, barely able to contain his excitement.

“You only ever show such zeal for Master Xu,” Cai Shulan chided, but she went to prepare the room. “Whether you can persuade him to stay is up to you.”

“Alright!” Ji Wu answered eagerly, carrying the tray of tea back to the pavilion with studied dignity.

Xu Yuan remained seated, gazing at the distant setting sun. The orange glow bathed his handsome features, his expression remote and indifferent—a vision of ethereal divinity.

Ji Wu was momentarily transfixed, only snapping out of it after a few heartbeats. He hurried over to refill Xu Yuan’s cup. “Master Xu, please have some tea.”

“No need.” Xu Yuan gently shook his head. “It’s time for me to go.”

“Ah?” Ji Wu froze, the tea still pouring, overflowing the rim and trickling down the cup.

“Master Xu, my mother is preparing a room for you. Won’t you stay, just for one night?”

Longing shone in Ji Wu’s eyes as he pleaded.

“Youth will not come again, daylight ever urges us on,” Xu Yuan replied, rising to his feet. “See me off, will you?”

Ji Wu opened his mouth, but could not find the words to persuade him, and could only follow Xu Yuan in a daze, back to the peach grove behind the mountain.

The great bear trailed after them, attempting to be stealthy, but with its massive frame and the sky not yet fully dark, it was impossible for it to go unnoticed.

Neither of the two spoke again. Xu Yuan stood among the peach trees, watching the last rays of sunlight fade.

He knew that to see the sun again would be to wait another mortal year.

A breeze stirred the air.

Xu Yuan lingered, unmoving, which sparked a flicker of hope in Ji Wu. Had Master Xu changed his mind?

But as the thought crossed his mind, Xu Yuan’s form began to blur.

Particles of light scattered from his body like drifting sand or fireflies, returning to the world.

“Master Xu?!” Ji Wu cried out in astonishment.

Xu Yuan looked at him and said, “Until next year.”

In an instant, the figure vanished without a trace.

The black bear lumbered over, snatched up a peach blossom where Xu Yuan had stood, and ate it.

Only Ji Wu stood there, dazed and motionless.

A celestial’s icy flesh and jade-like bones vanish with the wind in but a moment.

“Master Xu... truly, he is an immortal!”