Chapter Eleven: The Imperfect Madman

As it turned out, Liu Tian had overestimated his own pace and underestimated the capriciousness of the weather. By the time he arrived at Tiandao’s home, a gentle, unceasing rain had begun to fall from the sky.

The fine rain was like needles, like silken threads, like ox-hairs—piercing through thin clothing, chilling the heart itself.

Of course, for someone who had already stepped into the realm of the martial artist, and who, under Tiandao’s relentless urging, had been sprinting madly along this path, such discomfort was nothing to Liu Tian.

His robust physique and boiling blood were more than enough to ignore the drizzle that might make an ordinary person fall ill. In fact, the chill of the rain only sharpened his senses, making him even more acutely aware than usual.

Thus, his intuition picked up on something—something he would not have noticed under normal circumstances.

A feeling made him stop just outside Tiandao’s gate.

It was a peculiar sensation, as if to warn him that the familiar courtyard before him was not what it seemed, but rather the resting den of a tiger whose hunger could never be sated.

With this intuition, Liu Tian’s heartbeat subtly quickened, and his body involuntarily flooded with adrenaline. The rapidly circulating blood carried the hormone to every corner of his being.

His body, responding before his mind could issue any command, was already preparing for battle.

A subtle thrill welled up inside Liu Tian, even giving rise to a nearly irrepressible urge to unfurl a battle banner.

Just as he hesitated over his next move, the gate swung open and a man he had never seen before appeared before him.

This man was taller and more powerfully built than Liu Tian—fully eight feet in height. Three crimson marks, wild and primal, stood out sharply on his forehead, the edges of which were as keen as blades.

His robust frame, his arm of steel, the commanding gaze with which he surveyed the world, and even the indefinable aura he exuded—all these things declared to any observer: he was powerful.

Stronger than Tiandao.

Stronger than one could imagine.

Strong enough to make Liu Tian’s hair stand on end, to fill him with an exhilaration that made him want to raise his banner in challenge.

Yet reason told Liu Tian that he was by no means a match for this man. If he were to fight him now, not even three moves would pass before he fell to this unprecedented foe.

“May I ask—are you the Second Senior Brother whom Master often mentions?” Liu Tian was not afraid. Sizing up the gap between the man and the doorway, he saw Tiandao, unscathed, sipping tea in the rain within the courtyard. He identified his most likely target and asked tentatively.

“This is our first meeting, isn’t it?” Bai Ci’nan pulled back his lips in a smile as sharp as a tiger shark exposing its fangs, greeting this junior disciple he’d never officially met. His right fist flashed out like lightning, coming to rest against Liu Tian’s brow before he could react, then slowly opened.

A gemstone—large as a cat’s eye and unmistakably precious—appeared before Liu Tian.

“I’ve heard you’ve been interested in relics of the Lost Empire lately.” Satisfied that Liu Tian hadn’t retreated, and had even prepared to counterattack in that split second, Bai Ci’nan withdrew his aura. “As your senior, I haven’t brought much, but here’s a local specialty from the Dawn Alliance.”

“Thank you very much, Senior Brother.”

The moment Liu Tian accepted the gem, a great surge of warmth rushed into his body—greater even than what he’d felt when he first touched the prism. The unexpected reward made him break into a smile; he stepped back, bowed deeply, and clasped Bai Ci’nan’s giant hand in both of his own. “Truly, thank you for this gift.”

“My family isn’t well-off, and I’ve little to offer in return,” Liu Tian said, letting go of Bai Ci’nan’s hand and stepping forward as if the earlier tension had never existed. “But I do make a decent cup of tea. Master always says that if my martial skills advanced as quickly as my tea-making, I’d be in a far better state by now.”

“I don’t have anything else to offer you, Senior Brother, so please let me brew you a cup of tea…”

……

Because of Bai Ci’nan’s arrival, training was canceled that day. It seemed Tiandao had no desire for Liu Tian and Bai Ci’nan to interact further; after Liu Tian brewed a pot of tea and they exchanged a few words, Tiandao was quick to send Liu Tian home.

From Tiandao’s expression, one might suspect that if this world had mobile phones, Liu Tian would have received a message canceling today’s lesson long before.

Liu Tian did not understand why Tiandao was so reluctant for him to spend time with this obviously wealthy senior brother, but he had no wish to linger near someone who might at any moment threaten his life.

And so, when Tiandao casually offered him an excuse, Liu Tian gratefully took it and left.

Bai Ci’nan, meanwhile, seemed deep in thought. Though he clearly had plans of his own, he made no move to keep Liu Tian—only sipped his tea, watching until the younger man’s silhouette faded into the night before murmuring, “This junior is quite the character.”

“Did you know, Master?” Bai Ci’nan smiled as he spoke. “These past years, you’ve lost your dominance, your edge, your killing intent—even your battle marks are fading. You look like nothing more than a robust old man now.”

“If your enemies from a decade ago saw you like this, would they rejoice? Or rage?”

Once a great white shark ruling the battlefield with unbridled ferocity, Tiandao had now fallen to the state of a goldfish confined to his own tank—a sight that could not help but inspire sorrow.

“Ci’nan…” Tiandao was silent for a long time before sighing. “I am sorry. But this is no longer our era.”

“No, Master, you have never wronged me,” Bai Ci’nan replied with a gentle smile, pouring tea for them both. “I have never forgotten—it was you who took me from that earthly hell, raised me as your own, and taught me the Way of Heavenly Martial Slaughter.”

“It was only that I was foolish, that I could not see through traps, that all that followed was my own doing.”

“But all of that is past. I am well now, and I no longer care about what happened before. You need not burden yourself with it.” Bai Ci’nan paused. “It’s all in the past…”

“But I had thought you would never teach anyone the Way of Heavenly Martial Slaughter again. Yet in the end, you made an exception. May I ask what your thinking was back then?”

“Were you perhaps preparing bait for me?”

“After all, mutual slaughter, predation, severing all ties and emotions to pursue the apex of martial arts—that is the quintessence of the Heavenly Martial Way, is it not?”

“Those who practice the Way of Heavenly Martial Slaughter, if they wish to take the final step, must sooner or later fight one another.” Though Bai Ci’nan still smiled, his eyes grew colder with every word. “I always thought I had only one choice, and I hesitated. But now, Master, you’ve given me a second option?”

“Ci’nan…” Tiandao tried to speak, but was interrupted—

“Still, if you wish for Junior Brother to become my worthy adversary, he’s not yet ready. He needs much more tempering. But there’s no rush; time is on my side.” Bai Ci’nan cut Tiandao off without ceremony, rising to his feet.

His towering figure, even greater than Liu Tian’s and broader than Tiandao’s, cast a shadow in the lamplight—one that enveloped Tiandao completely. “And, Master, you’ve been wrong about one thing from the start.”

“Our era has never ended.”

As he spoke, Bai Ci’nan raised his hand, slowly spreading his fingers, then grasping them tightly together—

“And the future, at this very moment, rests in my hand.”