Chapter Fifty-Six: Leaving the Sect

After a day, news finally spread.

Yu Wenwen emerged as the victor of the competition, making her the sole candidate chosen to represent the Dao Sect at the Academy two years later.

The news swept across the entire Linghuang Continent.

Yet none of this, nor the ensuing commotion, had anything to do with Shen Yu.

He returned to Feilai Peak at the Dao Abyss Sacred Hall, where he questioned Su Mo and Master Dao Fan about matters long unspoken. He received some answers, and then prepared once again to depart from the Dao Sect.

The path he was to walk was, of course, unlike that of these young disciples.

At the summit of Feilai Peak, Shen Yu stood silently at the edge of the cliff, gazing at the distant sky.

It was only during these recent days of conversation with Su Mo that he realized how many great events from three thousand years ago had gone unrecorded and forgotten.

The saints of the Three Teachings, the heads of the Nine Sacred Lands, as well as the other famed figures of that era known to Shen Yu—all had vanished without a trace.

There were no rumors, nothing left behind, save for scattered fragments in ancient, tattered texts.

It was as if this era had been forcibly erased from the river of time, leaving no mark behind.

According to Su Mo, not only was Shen Yu baffled by this mystery, but even the sub-saints of the Academy were at a loss.

Thus, in the Academy’s three-storied tower, where countless books were stored, some scholars had come to call this period the Lost Age.

Learning all this, Shen Yu found his doubts only deepened, for he himself had walked step by step out of that very era.

Back then, the three races—humans, demons, and monsters—stood in a tripartite balance. Countless prodigies had risen to prominence, and the sages of old had not yet faded from the world. It was a time that shone with brilliance.

Why, then, did it all suddenly vanish?

Shen Yu slowly clenched the fist resting behind his back, a strange premonition rising in his heart.

Surely something terrible had happened after his death, something even more dreadful. And this incident was intimately connected to his own assault and subsequent rebirth.

“Take it slow.”

At some unknown moment, Su Mo had also come to stand at the cliff’s edge. With a gentle voice, he said, “Stay and cultivate in the Dao Sect a few more years—it might be better.”

Shen Yu shook his head. “My progress in cultivation will be the same wherever I go. There are simply too many things I need to uncover.”

He wished to visit the Nine Sacred Lands, to retrace the places in his memories. Perhaps he would recall more, perhaps he would find the Celestial Artifact, Tianxuan. Should he recover its spirit, the origins of those three individuals might be revealed.

Perhaps the vanished age would be unveiled as well.

Since Tianxuan was no longer in the Dao Sect, he would naturally have to seek it elsewhere.

Another reason was that his cultivation was still too low. The adversaries and tribulations he would face in the future would be exponentially more formidable than those of today.

Following the usual path of cultivation would be too slow, and it was simply not for him.

Su Mo said, “The Academy’s three-storied tower holds the world’s greatest collection of books. Perhaps you’ll find what you seek there, little brother.”

Shen Yu nodded, then suddenly asked, “Lu Wenyu seems to know Senior Brother quite well?”

The previous exchanges of glances between Lu Wenyu and Su Mo had not escaped Shen Yu’s notice. Moreover, Su Mo seemed very familiar with the Academy, which piqued Shen Yu’s curiosity.

Su Mo smiled. “I read many books at the Academy when I was young, so we became acquainted.”

Shen Yu said nothing more.

The chief disciple of the Dao Sect’s leader must have had good reason to enter the sacred Academy so openly, especially at such a young age.

But since Su Mo didn’t elaborate, Shen Yu didn’t press the matter.

The early spring was still cold, and frost lingered on the grass at the summit.

Su Mo lifted his head with a sigh. “I wonder when Master will emerge from seclusion.”

Shen Yu looked to the sky. It was said that above the peak of Feilai stood a blessed paradise, where the one reputed to be the greatest cultivator in the world remained in seclusion.

With Emperor Qing’s City and Song Nu having broken through their bottlenecks, the duel between the two was rapidly approaching, sending waves of anticipation through the world.

Countless eyes watched, awaiting a battle destined to be recorded in history.

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” said Shen Yu.

“How long will you be gone?” Su Mo asked.

Shen Yu was silent for a moment. “It may be several years.”

Su Mo smiled. “Then remember to say your farewells.”

Shen Yu nodded.

The next morning at dawn, Master Dao Fan arrived. Yang Liu, eyes brimming with tears, helped Shen Yu pack his things, stuffing a handful of mundane silver notes into his luggage, insisting that such things would be useful in the world outside.

Su Mo gave him a ring, a storage artifact with a space about the size of a house—ideal for storing belongings.

As the sun rose, Shen Yu walked down the mountain, his footsteps steady and calm.

Su Mo gazed at Shen Yu’s upright figure and sighed, “Our junior brother truly is a free-spirited soul, undistracted and serene.”

Yang Liu’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her face full of reluctance.

Seeing her like this, Su Mo teased with a smile, “But such carefree people may find themselves without friends, you know.”

Master Dao Fan remarked regretfully, “It’s a pity to give up the Academy’s Saintly Baptism.”

The Academy’s Baptism was renowned as one of the best ways to advance one’s cultivation. In Master Dao Fan’s view, Shen Yu’s choice seemed far too hasty.

Su Mo stood with hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the sea of clouds on the horizon. He spoke softly, “Who can foresee what lies ahead? When it comes to fate, one must always follow their heart.”

...

Shen Yu rode upon the Azure Luan, flying high above the land.

Man and bird soared together, and as it was early morning, few disciples were about. This time, Shen Yu left the mountain quietly, disturbing no one. His sleeves fluttered, and he sat cross-legged upon the bird’s back, soaring freely through the sea of clouds.

Occasionally, passersby would recognize the seven-colored spirit beast, their gazes filled with awe and envy, wondering what earth-shattering matter Senior Brother Shen Yu was off to accomplish this time.

Yet they did not know that this departure would see him wandering for many years before he would return.

The previous night, in a rare gesture, Shen Yu had taken up his brush and written several letters, which would reach their recipients today.

He was not accustomed to farewells—he found them tedious. Quietly slipping away, he felt, was best, though it seemed things had not gone entirely as he wished.

A woman in red stood at the Dao Sect’s gates.

Shen Yu called to the Azure Luan, landed, and asked, “Why are you here?”

“You should say goodbye,” Yu Wenwen replied, looking at him. “If not, little Uncle will be very sad.”

“I wrote letters,” Shen Yu said. “You should receive them today.”

Yu Wenwen did not pursue the matter. Instead, she asked, “Off to travel the world?”

Every disciple of the Dao Sect, upon reaching a certain stage in their cultivation, would descend the mountain—either because secluded cultivation had reached its limits, or to broaden their experience. For this reason, the Sect had established many missions. That was why Yu Wenwen asked.

Shen Yu remembered something Master Dao Fan had just mentioned and nodded. “More or less.”

Yu Wenwen said quietly, “In two years, I’ll be heading to the Central Continent Academy.”

Shen Yu thought for a moment. “I’ve heard that after every Baptism, the Academy leads a group north to the Great Wall. I’ll go and have a look two years from now. We’ll meet again then.”

“Alright,” Yu Wenwen nodded.

Shen Yu whistled to the distant Azure Luan, and the spirit beast flew back to the Sacred Hall on its own. Shen Yu headed toward the mountain gate.

“I’ve reached the late stage of the Divine Wandering Realm,” Yu Wenwen suddenly said. “If you took any longer, you might not be able to beat me.”

Shen Yu did not turn back. He only smiled faintly and waved his hand behind him.