Liu Xiaolou slipped into the secret cave beneath Ganzhu Ridge and began sorting through his belongings.

Most of what he needed was stored inside his Qiankun Pouch.

Inside were forty-two remaining spirit stones, all his cultivation manuals, the sect leader’s tokens, and various rare spiritual materials. He also had the “consolation” spirit stones Elder Tu had given him.

There were twenty of those in total. Supposedly two for each of the ten fallen disciples. But except for the fourth brother of Guzhang Mountain, none of the dead had any family left, so most of the stones couldn’t really be handed out. In truth, Elder Tu had given him those “compensation” stones to win people’s loyalty, and who actually received them was entirely up to Liu Xiaolou.

He didn’t care much for that kind of empty gesture. To him, those spirit stones were far more useful kept in his own hands. Whether to boost his cultivation or to help a trusted ally in a moment of need. Either way, they’d be a real asset.

Things were about to get tough for the brothers of Wulong Mountain. And no one could say how long this hard stretch would last.

Still, some things simply had to be done. Otherwise, the weight in his chest would never ease.

This was the secret cave of the Sanxuan Sect. Liu Xiaolou had come here to cultivate in seclusion countless times. Now, he was treating it like a hidden treasure vault. He took a rack from his Qiankun Pouch, set it firmly against the stone wall, and began placing all his belongings on it. Everything he owned in the world.

As he looked over his things, his mind wandered. If something were to happen to him in the coming mission, how long would the legacy of Sanxuan Sect wait here, sealed in this cave, before someone found it?

A hundred years? A thousand? Ten thousand?

Or perhaps, only after tens of thousands of years, when Wulong Mountain itself crumbled and this secret cave was finally exposed to the world, would someone at last lay eyes on it again?

Inside his left arm sleeve was the Mysterious True Cord. In his Qiankun Pouch he carried the Three-Mystery Sword, a coil of Bewildering Fragrance Tendon, a formation disk, a Jade Pendant Concealment, and two sets of black clothing. Hats and scarfs. Tightening the bag around his waist, Liu Xiaolou left the secret cave and made his way back to Qianzhu Ridge.

He climbed up to the cracks at the mountain’s peak to check on Big White and Little Black. “Watch over Qianzhu Ridge,” he told them. “And don’t bully the Golden Ring Bees.” He wasn’t sure they understood such complicated instructions, but he’d said what needed saying. Whether he’d live to come back or not, that was as much as he could do.

When he climbed back down, Fang Bu’ai was already waiting for him. “Everyone’s heading down the mountain,” Fang reported. “Not just the ones who got the hero’s post. Many of those who survived the Ghostdream Cliff disaster too. They say they’ve lost heart and can’t bear to stay on Wulong Mountain any longer.”

Liu Xiaolou nodded. “These past years, too many people have come to the mountain. If they leave, all the better. Maybe when they come back, it’ll finally be quiet again. Let’s go.”

Fang Bu’ai slung the basket by his feet onto his back and followed Liu Xiaolou down the mountain.

This time, they didn’t stop by Uncle Tian’s place, and they took the main road out. Before long, they ran into a steward from the Zhanglong Sect. A man from the Zang family. They’d dealt with him before.

The steward looked at them. “You two are leaving as well?”

Liu Xiaolou nodded politely. “Steward Zang. Yes… we have to go. What else can we do? Wulong Mountain isn’t a place we can stay anymore. And we don’t dare to, either.”

Steward Zang frowned. “But didn’t all the sects agree? Everyone’s to keep their disciples in line, no more breaking the rules. You heard that, didn’t you?”

Liu Xiaolou sighed. “We heard. If anyone breaks the rules again, they’ll be fined double the spirit stones… sure, we heard it loud and clear. But you fine spirit stones... what we lose are our lives.”

Fang Bu’ai muttered angrily, “Even if they did fine spirit stones, none of that would ever fall on us anyway!”

The Zhanglong Sect, of course, didn’t want this band of mountain rogues to leave. Least of all the Zang family from Ewe Ram Mountain. But what could they do? A man’s legs are his own; they couldn’t very well tie people up to keep them here. All they could do was watch as the pair walked farther and farther away.

From behind came a shout: “Where are you heading?”

Liu Xiaolou turned back with a smile. “Down south to Lingnan. See if fate’s kinder there. Steward Zang, thank you for all your help over the years. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

The steward watched them disappear down the road, a sigh escaping him. “That makes the eighth… no, the ninth to leave from our side, doesn’t it?”

His companion sighed too. “If this keeps up, Wulong Mountain will be empty before long.”

Steward Zang kicked a rock hard, sending it skittering down the path. “In three months, the spirit rice on Ewe Ram Mountain is supposed to be harvested! Damn Lu Yuanlang! Damn that cursed Tianlao Mountain!”

Wuling Mountain was a wild place. Full of venomous snakes, fierce beasts, strange plants, and demonic trees. There were a few rare herbs that could be used as spiritual materials, but not enough to make the danger worth it. So, high-level cultivators rarely passed through, and low-level ones wouldn’t dare.

Fang Bu’ai seemed a little tense after entering the mountain. Liu Xiaolou glanced over. “Getting scared?”

“With a senior like you here,” Fang Bu’ai said, “why would I be?”

Liu Xiaolou smiled. “Funny thing is, sometimes I think this mountain’s safer than the world outside.”

He had crossed Wuling Mountain many times before and knew two relatively safe routes. Leading Fang Bu’ai along one of them, they made their way east. But even so, danger found them before long.

Once, they ran into a massive python. Clearly a spiritual creature. After killing it, they found only its gall useful, so Liu Xiaolou had Fang Bu’ai swallow it.

Another time, they crossed paths with a huge tiger, its tail powerful enough to snap trees clean in half. It looked oddly familiar, and Liu Xiaolou was reminded of a tiger he’d faced years ago with Zuo Gaofeng. He couldn’t tell if it was the same one.

The standoff ended just like it had back then -- both sides roaring threats until the tiger grudgingly backed off.

“One day, I’ll kill it,” Fang Bu’ai muttered, still unsatisfied.

“Don’t act rashly when you don’t know your enemy,” Liu Xiaolou said calmly. “Sometimes, when you finally strike, you’ll find your opponent’s strength far beyond what you imagined.”

Fang Bu’ai frowned. “And what if, by holding back, we let the best chance slip away?”

Liu Xiaolou nodded. “Maybe you will miss a chance. But there will always be other chances. Life, on the other hand, you only get once. It’s up to you which matters more.”

“When it’s time to fight, you fight,” said Fang Bu’ai.

Liu Xiaolou thought about it for a moment. Fang wasn’t wrong; it really did come down to choice. You couldn’t know if a decision was right or wrong until after it played out. So he didn’t argue.

“Why’d you go quiet, Senior? Did I say something wrong?”

“Everyone has their own way of cultivating,” Liu Xiaolou said. “There’s no path that’s absolutely right, or absolutely wrong. I just remembered something my master once told me. That’s what he said too. He didn’t want to tell me too much… said he hoped I wouldn’t grow up to be another him.”

“Master Sanxuan?” asked Fang Bu’ai.

“Yes,” Liu Xiaolou said.

“Every time I visit his grave,” Fang Bu’ai murmured, “I can’t help wondering what he was really like…”

“And what do you think he was like?”

“Probably like you, Senior. Handsome, graceful…”

Liu Xiaolou smiled. “When he was young, maybe so.”

“I envy that,” Fang said with a small laugh. “My master used to say I’ve got a square head and a blocky face. Look stupid, act stupid. He was always worried I’d get myself killed too soon, so he kept protecting me. In Zhuoshui… he protected me one last time.”

Liu Xiaolou fell silent for a moment. “Junior Fang… do you have any family left?”

“I don’t remember,” Fang said quietly. “I’ve been with my master since I was a kid. No family. He didn’t have many friends either. When we were at Pai Sect, people bullied us all the time. I hated it there. Hated them.”

“Junior Fang, if you’re willing… from now on, I can be your family. You can call me big brother.”

“Big Brother!”

The Wuling Mountains were full of streams, cliffs, and deep ravines. Traveling through them was no easy task. By the time they reached the second mountain pass to the east, it was already deep into the next night. There were still three days left before the appointed time. They found a hidden cave and settled in. Liu Xiaolou urged Fang Bu’ai to cultivate.

For three days, their cultivation went undisturbed. But the fire in Liu Xiaolou’s chest refused to settle. No matter how hard he tried to focus, the images wouldn’t leave his mind. Lu Yuanlang’s wild slaughter, the bodies falling one after another, heads flying, eyes wide open and staring straight at him. None of them had closed.

If he couldn’t let out that rage, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep cultivating.

Fang Bu’ai, on the other hand, made remarkable progress. After three days, he opened his eyes, excitement shining on his face.

“Big Brother, I’ve opened the Laogong acupoint!”