The Ferocious God in the Celestial Master's Mansion

Chapter 27 Time Flies

The clouds and mist over Jingxin Cliff have lingered for thirty years.

When Zhang Yulei first arrived, his injuries hadn't fully healed. He had changed out of his dark, fitted clothing into a coarse Taoist robe, and his sword was stored in a stone cave at the top of the cliff, covered in a thin layer of dust. There was only a simple bamboo hut on the cliff, with a small plot of land in front of it planted with vegetables and radishes, and a clear, sweet mountain spring behind it. In the beginning, he was frequently awakened by nightmares at night. In his dreams, he saw mountains of corpses and seas of blood in Blood Moon Valley, and the Qingfeng Temple disciples and Shui clan members he had mistakenly killed, their empty eyes silently demanding his life. Each time he awoke, he was covered in cold sweat, sat cross-legged, and circulated the Dragon Tiger Mountain cultivation method, trying to suppress the surging malevolent energy. But the more he suppressed it, the clearer the images became.

In the first year, Zhang Zhiwei visited most frequently, going up the cliff almost every three days. He never mentioned anything about what happened down the mountain, only sitting with Zhang Yulei on the edge, watching the clouds gather and disperse, listening to the mountain wind rustling through the pines. Occasionally, he would bring a pot of wine, and the two would drink a few cups together, still not saying much. Zhang Yulei knew that his senior brother was afraid of touching his sore spot, afraid that he would lose control again. He had tried to say a few words to his senior brother, but the words stuck in his throat. The guilt and self-blame weighed on his heart like a boulder, making it hard for him to breathe.

The following spring, Zhang Zhiwei pushed Tian Jinzhong in a wheelchair for the first time. Tian Jinzhong looked the same as before, his arms and legs severed at the wrists, a gentle smile on his face, but a hint of barely perceptible pity hidden in his eyes. "Junior Brother, long time no see." Tian Jinzhong's voice was soft, like the mist on a cliff, "I heard you were meditating here, and I've been wanting to come and see you." Zhang Yulei looked at his empty sleeves and trouser legs, his throat tightened, and he couldn't say a word. He remembered when they were children, Tian Jinzhong always liked to take him and Zhang Zhiwei to the back mountain to raid bird nests. Back then, his second senior brother was a smiling boy, agile and capable of leaping up a three-zhang-high pine tree. But now, he could only sit in a wheelchair, unable to even lift a cup of water.

"Second Senior Brother..." Zhang Yulei's voice was hoarse, filled with deep guilt. He knew that Tian Jinzhong's fate was related to the incident that happened back then, and he didn't even have the right to avenge him.

Tian Jinzhong smiled and shook his head: "It's none of your business. This is my fate." He paused, then said, "Junior Brother, I know you're suffering. But you must know, who hasn't made mistakes in their life? The important thing is to know your mistakes, correct them, and move on from them. You're not crazy, you just... want to protect those people too much."

Zhang Yulei lowered his head, looking at the bluestone beneath his feet, which was covered in moss and was slippery and cold. He didn't speak, but simply brought out a cup of spring water from the house and handed it to Tian Jinzhong.

That day, the three of them sat on the cliff edge for the entire afternoon. Zhang Zhiwei talked about trivial matters on the mountain, saying that his master was still in good health, that the sect had gained many new disciples, and that the lives of the people down the mountain were gradually becoming more stable. Tian Jinzhong occasionally chimed in with a few words, his tone calm, carrying a sense of serenity born of experience. Zhang Yulei still didn't say much, but his heart didn't feel as heavy as before.

From then on, Zhang Zhiwei would push Tian Jinzhong up the mountain once a month without fail.

Spring came and autumn went, cold and heat passed. The grass and trees on Tranquil Cliff withered and flourished again, and Zhang Yulei's hair gradually turned frost-white. He no longer had nightmares; when he meditated at night, his heart was calm and serene. The resentment he had felt was gradually worn away, transformed into a steady Dao heart. He began to plant vegetables on the cliff, watering and fertilizing them, his movements slow and methodical, like a true old farmer. He also began to cultivate the Longhu Mountain techniques again. The Golden Light Mantra was no longer a fierce killing move, but became gentle and refined; the Thunder Technique was no longer violent, but controlled and concealed.

He didn't realize how quickly time had passed down the mountain until the autumn of the tenth year. When Zhang Zhiwei returned, his face was filled with barely concealed joy. "Junior Brother, something big has happened down the mountain!" Zhang Zhiwei's voice was brimming with barely suppressed excitement. "A great man led the people and established a new country! There is no more war, and the people can finally live in peace!"

Zhang Yulei paused, then looked up towards the direction below the mountain. The clouds and mist obscured the smoke from the chimneys, but he could almost hear the laughter of the people. A slow smile crept onto his lips. It was a faint smile, yet undeniably genuine. For the first time in thirty years, he smiled so easily.

"That's...that's wonderful," he said softly.

Zhang Zhiwei looked at him, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. He knew that his junior brother's inner turmoil was gradually being resolved.

A few years later, Zhang Jingqing's 100th birthday arrived. A grand banquet was held in the sect, and Zhang Zhiwei personally went up the mountain to welcome Zhang Yulei down. Zhang Yulei hesitated for a long time, but finally nodded. He changed into a brand-new Taoist robe and followed Zhang Zhiwei down the mountain.

Inside the Celestial Master's Mansion, lanterns and decorations were everywhere, and guests filled the hall. Zhang Jingqing sat in the main seat, his hair and beard completely white, yet his spirit remained vigorous. Upon seeing Zhang Yulei, a glint of light flashed in his cloudy eyes. "Yulei, you've come," Zhang Jingqing said softly, yet with an air of authority.

Zhang Yulei knelt before him and kowtowed heavily: "Master, your disciple is unfilial."

Zhang Jingqing waved her hand and sighed, "Never mind, it's good that you can come down the mountain."

The birthday banquet that day was very lively. Zhang Yulei sat in a corner, watching the guests fill the hall, watching the disciples of his sect laughing and chatting, watching Zhang Zhiwei move among the guests with composure and dignified bearing. He knew that his senior brother had grown up and was capable of standing on his own.

A few days after the birthday banquet, Zhang Jingqing summoned all the disciples of Longhu Mountain and announced a major decision in the Celestial Master Hall—to pass on the position of Celestial Master to Zhang Zhiwei.

Zhang Yulei was also there that day. He watched Zhang Zhiwei receive the Celestial Master's Seal from Zhang Jingqing, watched him kneel before Zhang Jingqing, and perform the apprenticeship ceremony. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Celestial Master's Hall, illuminating Zhang Zhiwei, who wore an apricot-yellow Celestial Master's robe, his face solemn, his eyes resolute. At that moment, Zhang Yulei knew that the future of Longhu Mountain had found its best guardian.

After Zhang Zhiwei succeeded to the position of Celestial Master, Zhang Jingqing retired to the background and devoted herself to Taoist cultivation. Several years later, one winter morning, Zhang Zhiwei pushed Tian Jinzhong up the mountain, his face bearing an undisguised sorrow. "Junior Brother, Master... has passed away."

Zhang Yulei's body trembled violently. He stood on the edge of the cliff, gazing down the mountain, silent for a long time. A cold wind swept by, fluttering his Taoist robe. He remembered his master teaching him the Golden Light Mantra by hand when he was a child, the stern reprimands when he made mistakes, and the earnest admonitions before he descended the mountain. Those scenes flashed before his eyes, as clear as if they had happened yesterday.

That day, he followed Zhang Zhiwei down the mountain to attend Zhang Jingqing's funeral. The funeral was grand, and many people attended, including fellow practitioners from the supernatural world and ordinary people from the foot of the mountain. Zhang Yulei knelt before the coffin, kowtowed three times, and did not shed tears, but his eyes were filled with sorrow.

After the funeral, he returned to Tranquil Cliff.

That was the last time she left.

Zhang Zhiwei still pushes Tian Jinzhong up the mountain once a month. Tian Jinzhong's health is deteriorating, and he speaks less and less. Most of the time, he just sits in his wheelchair, staring blankly at the clouds and mist on the cliff. Zhang Zhiwei occasionally tries to persuade Zhang Yulei to come down the mountain, saying that the Celestial Master's Mansion needs him, and that the people down the mountain need him. But each time, Zhang Yulei shakes his head and refuses.

"Senior brother, I've gotten used to life on the cliff." Zhang Yulei's voice was calm. "It's very nice here, quiet, and suitable for cultivating the mind."

Zhang Zhiwei knew that it wasn't that he didn't want to go down the mountain, but that he didn't dare. He was afraid of losing control again, afraid of hurting those around him once more. So many years of seclusion had worn away his fierceness, but it couldn't erase the guilt in his heart.

Time flies, and another decade or so has passed.

The bamboo hut on Jingxin Cliff has been replaced time and again, but the thin field in front of it is still planted with vegetables and radishes. Zhang Yulei's hair is now completely white, and his face is covered with wrinkles, making him look like an ordinary old man from the mountains. His daily life remains simple: planting vegetables, meditating, watching the clouds and mist, and listening to the sound of the pines. Occasionally, he will take out his sword from the stone cave, wipe it clean, and then put it back. The scabbard of the sword is somewhat old, but the blade remains as sharp as ever.

That day, Zhang Zhiwei pushed Tian Jinzhong up the mountain as usual.

The sun was shining brightly, filtering through the clouds and casting a warm glow on the cliff. Zhang Yulei brought out three bamboo chairs and placed them by the cliff edge, along with three cups of spring water.

The three of them sat in silence for a long time.

Tian Jinzhong suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, as if he had used all his strength: "Junior Brother, do you... really intend to stay here for the rest of your life?"

Zhang Yulei looked at him and smiled, "It's quite nice here."

Tian Jinzhong shook his head and sighed, "You... you're just too stubborn."

Zhang Zhiwei looked at him, a hint of helplessness in his eyes: "Junior Brother, life down the mountain is getting better and better. The world of supernatural beings is also much more stable. Don't you want to go down and take a look?"

Zhang Yulei looked up at the direction below the mountain, where clouds and mist swirled, obscuring the horizon. He remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking, "Senior brother, I know you mean well. But I... I'm truly afraid."

He paused, then said, "It's enough for me to stay here, guarding Jingxin Cliff and Longhu Mountain."

Zhang Zhiwei sighed and didn't try to persuade him further. He knew that some knots in one's heart couldn't be untied by time alone. It needed a trigger, a chance for him to confront himself again.

As the sun sets, its afterglow spills onto the cliffs, painting the clouds on the horizon red.

Zhang Zhiwei pushed Tian Jinzhong slowly down the mountain.

Zhang Yulei stood on the edge of the cliff, watching their figures gradually disappear into the clouds and mist.

He turned around and looked at the thin field in front of the house. The vegetables were growing vigorously, and the radishes were already ripe.

He smiled, bent down, picked up the hoe, and began to hoe the ground.

A mountain breeze swept by, and the pines rustled in the wind.

The clouds and mist on Jingxin Cliff have begun to gather again.

Thirty years have passed in the blink of an eye.