Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter 117: The Boy Weeding on the Turtle's Back

Amidst the heavy snow, the old beggar was laid to rest on Dragon Horn Peak, the highest point of the Ten Thousand Mile Dragon Ridge.

This was the loftiest summit in all of Great Xia. Looking north, one could see the Northern Nether Sea, the northernmost boundary of the realm; looking south, one could overlook the vast Central Plains and clearly discern Yangjing, the capital of Great Xia, built at the mouth of the dragon.

He could watch over the human world he had guarded for decades.

Even if this world did not acknowledge—or even know of—his existence.

"What should I carve?"

With a pale face, Ye Mingke erected the tombstone, then turned to look at Liu Xi, who was also kneeling beside him, his voice raspy.

"Liu Yifu is enough. I know my father; he spent his entire life simply being himself." Liu Xi’s eyes remained red, but her voice was calm.

Ye Mingke nodded and carved those three simple characters into the stone.

Not "Sword-Sacrificing Man," not "Martial Alliance Leader," not "Savior of the World," just Liu Yifu.

A husband of the human world who, upon seeing injustice, would draw his sword and throw his fists.

Once the name was carved, he added below: "Respectfully erected by his filial daughter, Liu Xi, and his disciple, Ye Mingke."

On the towering peak, the wind wailed. Snow swirled and entwined around the man and the stone, spinning as if trying to hold onto something.

But death is a parting that cannot be stayed.

As the dusk clouds descended, the sky grew dim.

Ye Mingke hoisted Aru onto his back once more. Liu Xi shouldered the heavy sword "Humanity," and Xu Zixian picked up a massive wooden chest.

The three of them stepped through the wind and snow, walking slowly down the mountain toward the magnificent, crimson-hued capital looming in the distance.

They did not look back.

The world was silent, save for the swirling snow.

...

Beyond that tranquil expanse, an earthquake had shaken the seemingly peaceful Yangjing—and with it, the entire Great Xia Dynasty—following the shattering of the twelve counties' immortals and the Imperial Siting Authority's mandate tokens. The ripples even reached the vast, azure waves to the east.

East of the Bohai Sea, in the midst of ten thousand leagues of azure waves, lay a gargantuan, dark, and terrifying eye. Millions of tons of churning seawater roared like thunder as they cascaded into that deep, abyssal vortex.

Day and night, for eons beyond counting, it had remained the same.

Countless millions of miles east of the Bohai Sea lies a great chasm—a bottomless valley. The waters of the eight poles and nine fields, and even the currents of the Heavenly River, pour into it, yet it neither increases nor diminishes.

It is called the Return to Void.

And on the shores of the Return to Void, nine giant turtles, each as large as a mountain, swam against the raging currents that fed the abyss. Every three of them bore a vast, sprawling island upon their backs, rising and falling with the tides.

Occasionally, these divine turtles would raise their heads to the vast sea and distant sky, letting out a deep, majestic, and melodic roar.

The sound resonated between sea and sky before dissipating.

Afterward, their ears were left only with the eternal sound of waves crashing, just as it had been for thousands upon thousands of years.

The world was vast, and so were they; the world was lonely, and so were they.

Of course, the fairy islands they carried were always bustling with life. Immortals soared on rainbows, towering palaces of jade stood tall, and countless spiritual plants covered the vast islands, while countless spirit beasts chased one another through the greenery.

It had always been a lively place, and no one cared that these three vibrant islands were built upon the loneliness and bondage of nine divine turtles.

"A-Jiu, I have to go out again. It might take a long time this time."

Sitting on the ear of the divine turtle that carried the largest of the islands was a young man with silver hair flowing in the wind, his back laden with many swords.

The turtle was so immense that sitting upon it was like sitting atop a mountain. When he spoke, it was as if a man were talking to himself against the sky.

But the young man knew he was not speaking alone, for the "mountain" beneath him shifted slightly, and a great, mournful roar rose from the sea.

"I don't want to go either; it's a nuisance. But this time it is the 'Walk Through the Red Dust'—a trial every disciple in the sect must undergo. I cannot refuse."

The youth reached out to pat his massive companion, who shared his name, though he could not truly reach it, for the turtle's head was covered in thick soil and even clusters of spirit grass.

Yet, the divine turtle sensed it, and the great roar lowered, filled with disappointment.

"This time I am going to the mortal capital, Yangjing, to succeed the Siting Official there. I hear the previous official from Fangzhang Island was struck down by a mortal, along with twelve other cultivators. It’s quite interesting."

"Besides, the last time I left the island, I owed a fellow named Ye Mingke my life. He should still be in the human world, so I can find him along the way and see if I can repay what I owe."

"You know me—I, Sword Nine, have never liked owing anyone anything."

The white-haired man, laden with spiritual swords, was none other than Sword Nine, who had returned to Penglai Island to heal after parting ways with Ye Mingke in the Foggy Sea.

Months later, his expression remained stoic, though the white hair—which would never return to its original color—added a touch of world-weariness to his cold, handsome face.

He touched the soil beneath him and laughed softly to the giant turtle.

"After all, I already owe you your freedom, which is a heavy burden to bear. To owe another man's life and leave it unpaid is hard to endure."

"But don't worry, I have no interest in this 'heart-tempering' exercise of walking the red dust. Beyond the Great Dao, I have no desires. I will just go through the motions in the human world, find the man, and return to keep you company."

The man who always wore a cold mask in front of others smiled with unexpected gentleness as he looked down at his massive friend.

The divine turtle’s roar sounded again, softer this time, carrying a playful, lingering tone.

"Alright, alright, I will return as soon as I can, and I will remember to weed for you."

"Hm, I’m leaving a bit ahead of schedule, so I’ll clear the grass on your head now."

The icy man patted the soil, stood up, and carefully scanned the scattered spirit grass. He didn't use magic; instead, he rolled up his sleeves and pulled the grass out by the roots, cluster by cluster.

Just as he had done for many, many years, the boy who used to chat with his mysterious, giant friend on the turtle's head now worked to pull out the stubborn weeds that pierced the soil and fed on his friend’s flesh, causing the turtle such discomfort.

Sword Nine’s movements were as practiced as those of a seasoned farmer. In this moment, he was at his most authentic and approachable, a stark contrast to his usual cold, lofty demeanor.

Perhaps humans often misunderstand; those who understand others best are often not human, and those who get along best with others may not be human either.

Humans are animals that care too much about themselves.

"Done. I should be going."

Sword Nine, finished with his weeding, stood up lazily on the mountaintop and announced to the distance before turning to leave.

Another roar echoed from the sea.

Sword Nine’s stride faltered, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "You ask why I’m sneaking off? I am not sneaking!"

Another roar followed, this one cheerful and mocking.

Sword Nine blushed slightly, rolled his eyes, and launched himself into the air on his sword.

He would never admit that he was leaving so quickly just to avoid that girl in red.

After returning to the island, though he was moved by Song Mingyu’s sacrifice to save him, her parents had used that debt of gratitude to insist he marry her, and their master had been very supportive.

But how could that be?

Beyond the Great Dao, one should travel with sword in hand, unburdened by worldly ties. Marriage was entirely outside the scope of his imagination.

Yet, in the end, it wasn't he who refused.

The girl had cried and threatened to take her own life, forcing her parents to abandon the proposal. She had even come to apologize to him with red-rimmed eyes.

But he, who was fearless in the face of the world with a sword in his hand, had for the first time dared not look into her eyes.

He dared not get close to her again, dared not even see her.

And this time, for the "Walk Through the Red Dust," both their trial locations were at the Siting Authority in Yangjing.

Women were trouble.

As he soared on his sword, Sword Nine kept his face cold, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red light chasing him from the island. His grip on his sword tightened.

With a "swish," he transformed into a swift streak of light, heading toward the ten-thousand-mile waves with a dashing flourish.

"Fleeing in panic."

A figure in red appeared where Sword Nine had just stood. Song Mingyu, eyes red, stomped her foot in frustration.

"Dead sword-rack! Avoiding me again? I didn't even force you to marry me, why run?"

"Let's see how long you can keep running!"

The figure in red didn't wait for those behind her, transforming into a streak of red light and chasing after the trail of the sword-light.

...

Although the crimson capital could be seen from the highest peak, the journey there would still take two or three days.

That night, the four of them—Ye Mingke and his companions—took shelter in a dilapidated wooden cabin in the forest and lit a fire.

Outside, the wind and snow howled. Because of their heavy hearts, the group, who had barely spoken all day, remained silent, sitting together and watching the flickering flames.

Finally, Xu Zixian broke the silence.

"Ye-zi, what was that state you were in that day? What exactly happened?"

***

*(Translator's Note: The text cites the "Liezi: Questions of Tang," which describes the five great mountains of the immortals—Daiyu, Yuanqiao, Fanghu, Yingzhou, and Penglai—floating upon the backs of giant turtles to prevent them from drifting into the abyss of the Return to Void.)*