Chapter Twelve: Three Command Tokens

Inside the cave, shadows prevailed and darkness lingered.

Little Yu curled up in the corner, fear etched across her face.

At the entrance squatted a figure.

That figure was covered in black fur, with a tuft of white hair atop its head. It crouched by the mouth of the cave, arms pressed to the earth, unmoving for a long while.

The light from outside streamed in, only to be blocked by its presence.

The figure, shrouded and indistinct, became hazy and yellowed.

“A monster…”

Little Yu clenched her fists, recognizing the silhouette as the creature that had injured her grandfather and brought her here. She picked up a stone nearby, clutching it tightly to her chest, trembling.

Earlier, the monster had spoken, claiming it would not harm her.

But she did not believe it.

...

The mountain specter turned its head, glancing at the girl in the corner. In its golden eyes flashed a measure of helplessness.

That person had been gone for quite some time.

Would nothing happen to him?

It pondered.

The legend of the great mountain demon came to mind—the king of the mountains—and it could not help but shudder.

Anything involving the mountain demon…

It thought, should that person not return, what would become of the little girl? Keep her for dozens of days and nights, wait for the next full moon?

Just then, a figure appeared, gradually approaching the cave.

He was tall, dressed in white garments embroidered with blue trim, white boots at his feet, and a belt cinched at his waist.

His face was refined and handsome, his gaze clear, with an air of youthful vigor between his brows.

The mountain specter mused, suddenly recalling the mood of birds and beasts in the springtime. It often lingered near this place and understood human speech well enough. It thought to itself, naming this emotion as the delight of spring breezes.

Then it was further astonished.

Earlier, this man had been bright and humble, with steadiness and depth in his eyes. Now, his brows were lifted, his demeanor free and unrestrained—a notable change.

Qingyuan noticed the mountain specter's peculiar look, realizing his own transformation, but he was unconcerned.

He had taken the first step on the path of cultivation, the long-awaited first step. Such joy—why suppress it?

“How is Little Yu?”

Qingyuan approached the cave entrance, peering inside.

The mountain specter shifted aside.

Little Yu looked up and saw a man standing at the entrance.

She exclaimed in astonishment, “Master…”

...

The little girl wept endlessly. Qingyuan held her, comforting her and briefly explaining what had happened—that he had subdued the mountain specter and rescued her.

At first, she murmured in response, but soon, exhausted, she fell asleep.

Qingyuan smiled, gently opened her palm, and found within it a sharp stone.

“She… thought it was you, commanding me?”

The mountain specter’s throat moved as it spoke in a low voice. “Fortunately… you explained… otherwise, she would have struck you…”

Qingyuan looked at the little girl in his arms and said with a smile, “Master Ge has taught her well. A little vigilance will keep her from suffering in the future. Yet she trusts me—otherwise, even tired, she would not sleep at such a time.”

The mountain specter seemed half-comprehending, then its gaze fell upon Qingyuan’s waist.

There hung three objects—iron tokens, mottled with rust, engraved with strange patterns.

Qingyuan reached behind and touched the three tokens, chuckling lightly, offering no explanation.

These three were tokens of identity, not all made of iron.

Each came from the place where the keys to the Ninefold Treasure Casket were hidden.

Because the place was not far and close to the path he had traveled, he followed the trail to a cave on the cliff’s edge. He found no key, only skeletal remains.

They were long-dead bones, with tattered clothing and decayed weapons. The only proof of identity were these three tokens.

The tokens differed, and judging by the many marks around, they likely belonged to three different factions.

“The keys… most likely taken by those three…”

Qingyuan’s gaze sharpened as he pondered.

Among the three factions, mutual conflict was not absent, but most had died in the traps set to hide the keys.

He suddenly recalled the words left by the ancient master of Guangyuan.

The keys were not a test, only hidden deep and difficult to find. Once found, taking them would not be hard.

“Not hard to take?”

Qingyuan felt speechless, a touch of self-mockery.

He had examined the scene carefully. Even if no one had arrived before him, his own skills would not have sufficed to retrieve the keys.

Perhaps in the eyes of a figure like the ancient master of Guangyuan, such arrangements were nothing, not even dangerous. But for Qingyuan, they were deadly traps, a matter of life and death.

“These three factions…”

He mused, “Since they have such tokens of identity, their backgrounds should be noteworthy. Tracking them down should not be difficult.”

With that thought, he lifted Little Yu.

“Let’s first return the girl home. Tonight, wait for me by the tree outside the village, and I’ll teach you the method of breathing and meditation.”

...

Outside the mountain, in Li Village.

“Poor Little Yu, such a clever child, helped me out so much just recently.”

“Qingyuan, too, is reckless. He’s just a scholar, not a warrior, and yet dared to enter the mountains.”

“So many days have passed. I fear even Qingyuan may be lost in the mountains, never to return.”

“He’s a good man, but sadly, he cannot tell the gravity of danger… Little Yu is likely doomed, and he still insisted on entering the mountains. Did he not consider how perilous the mountains are—how could a scholar survive there?”

“Master Ge is truly unfortunate. White-haired sending off black-haired, and now losing another young man—he must be wracked with guilt.”

Many in the village talked, women washing clothes and airing bedding, sometimes discussing the matter; men drank and used it as conversation.

The sky grew dim.

The sun slanted westward.

Nearby trees rustled.

A wary hunter readied his bow and arrow.

Ever since Little Yu’s incident, anxiety had gripped the villagers.

Dangling leaves and vines were pushed aside by a hand.

A young man emerged, smile on his face like the warm glow of morning, dressed in white with blue trim. In his arms was a sleeping girl.

“Qingyuan… Little Yu…”

Those who saw them were astonished, struck dumb for a moment.

At last, a cry broke out.

“Returned…”

“Qingyuan has brought Little Yu back…”

...

Evening had fallen.

Candles were lit in the house, their light dim and yellowed.

The villagers who had gathered to congratulate them had dispersed.

The room was quiet, only Master Ge and his granddaughter weeping tears of joy.

Master Ge and Little Yu depended on each other; after this ordeal, their emotions ran high. Even Master Ge, a man who had seen mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, could not hold back his tears.

Qingyuan watched for a moment before stepping back.

“Wait.”

Master Ge’s voice called from behind.

Qingyuan stopped, turned, and smiled. “Is there something else, Master Ge?”

Master Ge sighed suddenly. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

ps: Everyone has been amazing! In just half a week, the new book ranked nearly in the top three of its category, surpassing many others’ weekly numbers. Well… tomorrow’s Monday, let’s keep up the effort, vote for recommendations every day, click when you have time… When the word count grows and recommendations come in, let’s aim for the overall rankings, shall we? O(∩_∩)O Haha~