Chapter 3: The Scribe

When Zhang Xiaofan awoke, the sky was already dark, having slept for at least five or six hours. Yet Bi Yao still lay unconscious, her hands tightly gripping his clothes, looking like a frightened child. Who would have thought that she was a key figure in the Demon Sect!

Zhang Xiaofan placed his hand under his head, listening to the rustling of the mountain wind through the trees. Suddenly, he thought of the bamboo forests on the Great Bamboo Peak of Azure Ethereal Conclave; didn't they also make such sounds?

In these days, trapped beneath the Ancient Bat Cave, news of his disappearance had likely reached the Great Bamboo Peak. He wondered if Senior Sister Ling'er would be saddened by it. But if he suddenly appeared before her, wouldn't she be delighted? Surely, she would grab his hand, filled with excitement and laughter, chiding: "You stinky rascal, I knew you weren't so easy to get rid of!"

A smile spread across his face in the dark night, and even his eyes shone brightly. However, he didn't notice another pair of luminous eyes, which had been watching him silently for some time.

***

As the sky brightened and birds began to sing melodiously, Zhang Xiaofan walked to the stream. He cupped his hands, splashing water onto his face, feeling a cool sensation seeping into his heart. Checking his left hand, he unwrapped the bandages and found that the broken bone had nearly healed. Overjoyed, he removed the firestick from his hand and placed it at his waist, flexing his left hand. Indeed, there seemed to be no significant issue.

"Is your hand better now?" Bi Yao approached from behind, gave him a glance, and then squatted down to wash her face with the stream water.

"Yes," Zhang Xiaofan replied cheerfully. "It's fine now, no pain or discomfort."

Bi Yao gently wiped the water from her face with her sleeve. "Don't overexert yourself. Rest more and give your bones and tendons time to heal properly."

"Understood," Zhang Xiaofan responded, then hesitated, "Miss Bi Yao, we've been fortunate to survive and escape from the cave. We can consider ourselves friends, but our paths are different. It's best if we part ways here today."

Bi Yao remained crouched by the stream, her body trembling slightly. Zhang Xiaofan couldn't see her expression, but after a while, he heard her say in a low voice, "Oh, is it because our paths are different?"

Zhang Xiaofan nodded. "Yes, I follow the righteous path, and you belong to the Demon Sect. My masters taught me that righteousness and evil cannot coexist. If we meet again, we might be enemies. I am truly grateful for your care and rescue. I will repay your kindness if fate allows it."

Bi Yao stared at the hazy reflection in the clear water, murmuring, "Repay my kindness?"

"Yes," Zhang Xiaofan affirmed. "We must be clear about debts and favors. If not for you, I wouldn't have survived. If I can serve you in the future, I will. But I can't do anything that betrays my sect's principles."

Suddenly, Bi Yao stood up and turned to him. "I see you as a talented individual. Why not join our Holy Sect? I can recommend you to my father. He values talent and will surely use you well, better than being an unknown cook on the Great Bamboo Peak."

Zhang Xiaofan's face darkened. "Miss Bi Yao, don't speak rashly. I am of the righteous path and would rather die than turn to the demonic. Being a small cook on the Great Bamboo Peak is better than having power in your Demon Sect."

A cold smile crossed Bi Yao's lips, and her words became sharp and cold. "Righteous people? The evils committed by the righteous are no less than those of the demonic. During the great battle between righteousness and evil, your divine ancestors killed without mercy, sparing no one, not even the elderly, women, and children!"

"You lie!" Zhang Xiaofan roared. "These atrocities were committed by your Demon Sect. You think I don't know how you slaughtered innocents, causing suffering and despair..."

Bi Yao angrily retorted, "Did you see it with your own eyes? Isn't it just what your masters told you, to save face?"

Zhang Xiaofan sneered, "And did you see it with your own eyes? Are you telling me the righteous are evil and the demonic are righteous, just to cover up the crimes of your elders?"

Bi Yao was stunned, at a loss for words. Zhang Xiaofan, recalling their shared experiences, softened. He lowered his voice and said gently, "Miss Bi Yao, let's not dwell on the past. Our Azure Ethereal Conclave has strict rules against interacting with the Demon Sect. I grew up in Azure Ethereal Vapors and cannot violate its principles. Let's part ways here. If fate brings us together again, and you repent and turn to the light, I, Zhang Xiaofan, will guarantee your safety and entry into the righteous path..."

He spoke fervently, but paused as he saw Bi Yao's mocking expression. She laughed bitterly, "Your so-called righteous path, even if you invite me, I won't go. And forget about turning to the light. Fine, I showed you the right path, but you refuse to take it. Go and be your righteous man. When we meet again, I will take your head first!"

Shocked, Zhang Xiaofan felt that this woman changed faster than flipping a page. Yet, he decided not to argue further. He bowed, saying, "Farewell." Then, without looking back, he walked away.

Bi Yao watched him leave, not turning once. After his figure disappeared into the forest, she felt a void in her heart, as if something important was lost. She sat down, her gaze wandering, and noticed the ashes of the rabbit he had roasted the night before. Unconsciously, tears welled up in her eyes.

Sitting there, staring at the ashes, she didn't know how long it had been. Suddenly, she noticed that the once lively bird chirping had fallen silent, as if sensing a great danger.

Then, a shadow slowly emerged behind her, enveloping her. Even though it was daytime, the sky seemed to darken.

Bi Yao turned around, her eyes wide, and called out, "Father!" She rushed into his arms.

The shadow, caught off guard, embraced her. Overwhelmed with joy at her safe return, he could no longer hide his emotions.

***

Zhang Xiaofan wandered in the mountains for a day before leaving Kuang Sang Mountain. Had he flown, he could have left in half a day, but he was cautious of his injured hand. The journey was lonely, and he saw no one along the way.

After a night in the wilderness, Zhang Xiaofan continued on the main road. The path widened, and more travelers appeared. He asked for directions and headed north.

At noon, the sun blazed, and Zhang Xiaofan, parched and hungry, saw a small tea stall under a tree. He bought a bowl of tea and sat down to rest.

The tea was surprisingly refreshing. As he drank, he decided that with his hand mostly healed, he would fly back in the afternoon to see his master sooner.

Thinking of soon seeing his senior sister, Tian Ling'er, his heart warmed. Just then, a gentle voice said, "Shopkeeper, a bowl of tea, please."

A gentle breeze blew, rustling the leaves and scattering sunlight. The shopkeeper, in his fifties, poured the tea. Zhang Xiaofan, glancing over, couldn't look away.

A middle-aged scholar, with refined features, exuded a natural dignity. Dressed in scholarly robes, he wore a faint purple jade pendant, exuding an aura of auspiciousness.

Zhang Xiaofan, entranced, realized that the scholar's presence had silenced the other customers.

The scholar, taking his tea, sat down and sipped quietly. The other customers, one by one, finished and left, leaving Zhang Xiaofan and the scholar alone.

Feeling no unease, Zhang Xiaofan rested until a voice behind him said, "Young brother."

Turning, he recognized the familiar, gentle voice. The scholar smiled, "Was I calling you?"

Zhang Xiaofan stood, "Yes, sir. Is there something you need?"

The scholar, examining him, said, "No, just a chat. Mind if I sit with you?"

Zhang Xiaofan shook his head, "Of course not."

They sat, and the scholar asked, "May I know your name?"

Zhang Xiaofan, who rarely spoke to outsiders, felt a sense of respect. "I am Zhang Xiaofan. And you, sir?"

The scholar, smiling, "I am Wan Renwang."

"An impressive name," Zhang Xiaofan thought, "It hints at commanding many."

Wan Renwang, eyeing Zhang Xiaofan, "Are you a cultivator, young brother?"

Zhang Xiaofan, startled, "How did you know?"

Wan Renwang, pointing north, "Could it be that you are from the renowned Azure Ethereal Conclave?"

Zhang Xiaofan, more surprised, "How did you...?"

Wan Renwang, smiling, "Please sit. I see your vitality and strength. You must be a talented cultivator."

Zhang Xiaofan, bowing, "Thank you, but how did you know my sect?"

Wan Renwang, "I saw your eagerness to return north, where the closest and most famous sect is Azure Ethereal. I guessed, and I was right."

Zhang Xiaofan, "Impressive, sir. You have a keen eye."

Wan Renwang, "Azure Ethereal is a venerable sect, respected by all. Your future is bright, young brother."

Zhang Xiaofan, "I am unworthy, sir. I am but a humble disciple."

Wan Renwang, laughing, "You are modest. Tell me, where are you headed?"

Zhang Xiaofan, "To return to my sect. Sir, where are you bound?"

Wan Renwang, "I travel wherever the wind takes me. The world is vast, and I wander freely."

"Ah, I see," Zhang Xiaofan said, impressed.

Wan Renwang, with a curious smile, "As a disciple of Azure Ethereal, you must be skilled in cultivation."

Zhang Xiaofan, "Not at all, I am but a novice."

Wan Renwang, "I have a request. May I see your magical artifact?"

Zhang Xiaofan, flustered, "It's not worthy, sir."

Wan Renwang, "Please, it would fulfill a lifelong dream."

Zhang Xiaofan, hesitant, "Very well."

He pulled out the firestick, and Wan Renwang, examining it, was surprised. His expression turned serious, and he examined it closely.

Zhang Xiaofan, "Sir, is something wrong?"

Wan Renwang, "This artifact... does it contain your blood?"

Zhang Xiaofan, shocked, "What do you mean?"

Wan Renwang, "Is it a fusion of two objects?"

Zhang Xiaofan, stunned, "How do you know?"

Wan Renwang, "The pearl on this stick is a holy relic of the Demon Sect, a remnant of the Dark Heart Elder, named 'Bloodthirsty Pearl.'"

Zhang Xiaofan, dumbfounded, "What are you saying?"

Wan Renwang, "Do you want to know the origin of the black rod?"

Zhang Xiaofan, trembling, "Tell me."