Chapter 94: White Bones Never Age

The early morning in Linhe City saw a faint, cold mist still lingering over the Sand River.

Looking along the long main street, the widest and straightest thoroughfare in the city center stretched in a line with the long bridge. The large red lanterns hung high on either side had not yet been lit, and like the ancient city itself, they remained asleep in the early morning.

Ning Xiaoling and Ning Changjiu still lived one room apart, just as they always had. When Ning Xiaoling got up, she found him already outside, sitting on a chair he had moved, with his eyes closed, appearing to be asleep.

Ning Xiaoling threw a quilt onto him and said grumpily, "Cover yourself with more blankets. We've already squandered so much money. If you catch another cold, Senior Brother, we won't be able to afford a doctor."

Ning Changjiu had intended to nap a little longer, hoping to glean some insight from the remnants of life here. But Ning Xiaoling's quilt, hitting him squarely, woke him, and the faint thread of realization he had just touched upon was abruptly snapped.

Ning Changjiu raised his eyelids and cast a look at her, knowing she was still annoyed about his expensive antique purchases yesterday. Acknowledging his fault, he pulled the quilt tighter, covering himself completely. "Thank you for your care, Junior Sister," he murmured.

Ning Xiaoling pulled the quilt down from him again and declared, "Don't play dead, Senior Brother, or I'll tell Sister Xiang'er all about the bad things you've said about her behind her back."

"When did I say such a thing?" Ning Changjiu retorted, indignant.

Ning Xiaoling challenged, "Tell me, will Sister Xiang'er believe you or me?"

Ning Changjiu sighed, "Then we won't go to the Imperial City."

Ning Xiaoling was slightly taken aback. "Why aren't we going?" she asked.

Ning Changjiu's voice, muffled by the quilt, drifted out: "I don't want to go."

Ning Xiaoling sighed, her tone softening. "Alright, alright, fine. I won't blame you for buying all those random things anymore. As long as you're happy, Senior Brother..."

"I want to spend New Year's in Linhe City," Ning Changjiu said.

"Senior Brother, why are you being so petty?" Ning Xiaoling questioned. "I was only making a few jokes..."

Ning Changjiu sighed, "I just feel that Linhe City has a certain warmth, a feeling of home. Now that I'm here, I don't want to leave."

Ning Xiaoling rubbed her slightly stiff cheeks and echoed his sigh. "Yes, the lingering scent of that old man's exploitation still hangs in the air here..."

"Linhe City is nestled between mountains and rivers, and the local customs are simple and honest," Ning Changjiu said. "Once we've achieved success in our Dao cultivation and return, let's settle down here."

Ning Xiaoling felt as if she'd seen a ghost this early morning. "Senior Brother," she exclaimed in shock, "you haven't actually been bewitched, have you? First, you gave money to that kid who tried to assassinate us, then you bought a pile of worthless junk, and now you claim to like it here? What's so good about this place? Oh..."

A sudden look of understanding dawned on Ning Xiaoling's face. "Senior Brother!" she blurted out. "Are you afraid to go to the Imperial City? Afraid to see Sister Xiang'er?"

"Why do you say that?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Because of your three-year pact," Ning Xiaoling declared confidently. "You agreed to meet three years from now, so what's all this about? Meeting on New Year's Eve will be like opening a floodgate. After this, you'll be gathering every few days during holidays. And after those three years, will you still even fight? What's more, given Senior Brother's current cultivation level... you probably don't have the face to see Sister Xiang'er."

Ning Changjiu pulled the quilt away, looked at Ning Xiaoling, and chuckled, "No matter how much you provoke me with your words, Junior Sister, my cultivation level won't go up."

Ning Xiaoling pursed her lips and said, "Then you can stay in Linhe City and mind the house by yourself. I'll go to the Imperial City to find Sister Xiang'er."

With that, she walked into the main room, casually grabbing a rag from a shelf to wipe dust from the tables and chairs. She glanced around at her surroundings, which felt both familiar and foreign, then turned to look back at her senior brother, who was sprawled half-dead in the courtyard. She sighed, thinking with relief, *It doesn't matter how many hardships we endure, as long as he's alive...*

She looked at the singing girl figurine, with its two rosy cheeks and dark green attire. Their eyes seemed to meet.

Just yesterday, her Senior Brother had sworn to her that it was a genuine antique from the Jin Kingdom, two hundred years old, and extremely valuable.

"You, a two-hundred-year-old Jin Kingdom antique?" Ning Xiaoling muttered, looking at the figurine. The more she looked, the uglier and more irritating it became. Yet, she eventually sighed and wiped it down. But the porcelain figurine was so new, it had none of the character of an actual antique; there was barely anything to wipe off. *Perhaps I should put it by the door, alongside the door gods the old woman gave us last night, to guard the house? At least for New Year's, it would look more festive...* Ning Xiaoling tried to reassure herself.

Shuhai delivered the white copper carvings and paintings door-to-door, following the list. The items were heavy, and from constantly carrying them, his back had developed a slight hunch at a young age. Each time he bent or stooped, his gaunt ribs became even more prominent.

Shuhai twirled his now empty satchel, feeling a sense of lightness.

With this last delivery complete, he could finally enjoy New Year's Eve in peace. In years past, New Year's Eve was always spent eating a bowl of noodles at the shop, listening to his old pipe-smoking master puff away and tell ancient tales whose origins were lost to time. But this year, he could finally go to the city and join the lantern festival.

He swung his satchel, skipping along. As he passed an antique shop, he didn't forget to glance inside, and suddenly noticed that the incredibly ugly singing girl figurine, which used to be displayed prominently, was gone. He had always believed that the shop's slow business was inextricably linked to that absolute eyesore of a figurine.

After all, if they dared to display and sell something so obviously fake, how genuine could their other items possibly be?

But... how could it be gone today? Someone actually bought something like that? Are there really such big spendthrifts in Linhe City?

Shuhai clicked his tongue in amazement.

Yet, for some reason, with the singing girl figurine gone and its spot empty, he felt a faint sense of loss.

"New Year's Eve... Lantern Festival..." Shuhai hummed to himself, then sighed, "If only Sister Bai were still here."

If Sister Bai were still here, she would surely be of marriageable age by now... Such a beautiful and kind person, just gone. He recalled the screams of that day and instinctively covered his ears, cursing aloud that all evil Daoists deserved to die.

Shuhai couldn't help but recall the senior brother and junior sister from yesterday, and he couldn't resist spitting. "Putting on a show of being good people," he muttered.

When he returned home, his old master was still reclining in his chair. For some reason, the old man had been excessively sleepy these past few days, often closing his eyes and not stirring for an entire day. Were it not for his faint, continuous breathing, Shuhai would have already pulled out his burial funds.

"Master..." he called softly.

The old man wasn't in a deep sleep today. He slowly opened his eyes and asked, "Is everything delivered?"

Shuhai nodded. "It's delivered," he confirmed.

The old man grunted, tapping the pipe in his hand. His voice, muffled and heavy, stated, "It's good that it's all delivered."

Shuhai sighed. "Master," he said, "for the past two months, I was blinded by revenge, holed up at that old Daoist's place for nearly two months. I didn't properly care for you, and I wasted your effort teaching me martial arts. I've thought it through. From now on, I'll truly look after you, diligently learn your craft, and ensure your skills are passed down."

The old man shook his head. "There's not much left for you to learn," he said. "With your current martial arts skills, if you practice for a few more years, opening a martial arts school in the city won't be a problem."

Shuhai felt even more guilty. Recalling the days when the old man had taught him various fist and foot techniques, he asked, "Master, were you a martial artist yourself in the past?"

The old man merely tapped his pipe, the crisp sound echoing in the lifeless room. It was as if the light from outside was rain hanging under the eaves, unable to be blown in no matter how strong the wind.

Seeing his master didn't answer, Shuhai smiled and continued, speaking to himself, "Master, your copper carvings are so vivid and moving, so lifelike. You must have traveled extensively through the martial world in your youth and seen many great things. The demons and monsters depicted here couldn't be portrayed so vividly by someone who hadn't truly seen them."

The old man smiled silently and slowly began to speak. "It's all just hearsay," he said. "In the future, you should travel more and see the world; perhaps you'll encounter many such stories yourself."

Shuhai responded with an affirmative sound. "Anyway, revenge won't be possible," he said. "Once I can peacefully care for Master in his old age, then I'll learn from those martial artists who roam the land with swords, performing chivalrous acts and upholding justice."

After a long pause, the old man replied, "I've told you quite a few stories over the years, haven't I?"

Shuhai nodded. "Those stories aren't all true, are they?" he asked. "Are there really immortals in this world with the power to move mountains and overturn seas? And those great cultivators who wield blades and spears – they sound no different from the masters in martial arts schools. How could they shatter mountains and rivers with a single blow of a staff...?" The old man couldn't help but laugh. "Of course, they're all fake," he said. "Only children like you would believe such things."

Shuhai scratched his head sheepishly. "I believe everything you say, Master," he replied.

The old man sighed. "What's more," he said, "the people in those stories aren't necessarily that powerful. Even if they could cleave a city with a single sword, or sever a mountain with one saber, what then? A strongman might be able to lift objects several times heavier than himself, but if they truly faced a force hundreds or thousands of times greater than their own, they'd be no more significant than an ant crushed by a person."

"That's not powerful enough...?" Shuhai asked curiously. "Then what does it take to be truly powerful?"

The old man replied with a smile, "Of course, to be truly powerful, you must be the most powerful."

Shuhai also chuckled. "Master, did you spend time in a temple when you were young?" he asked. "Why do you talk like a monk?"

"Is what I said incorrect?" the old man countered.

"It's not exactly wrong..." Shuhai replied, "but isn't that just stating the obvious?"

The old man's hand, which had been tapping his pipe, stilled. "In this world," he said, "isn't the most powerful the Heavenly Father above? Have you ever seen the Heavenly Father kill anyone? Yet, who would dare claim they are more powerful than him?"

"The Heavenly Father isn't a real person," Shuhai grumbled. "And there's only one of him. Even if you don't submit to him, where would you go to find another?"

"No need to seek him..." the old man slowly began. "Fence off a piece of land that no one else can enter, absolutely no one. Within that land, you will be the sole and unique Heavenly Father."

Shuhai pondered for a moment, then asked, "What's wrong, Master? Why are you suddenly talking about these things?"

The old man simply smiled and said nothing more, only stating, "Let me tell you another story today."

Shuhai's spirits lifted slightly. "Master," he said, "Please tell me, I'm listening."

The old man opened his eyes, gazing at the light that fell beneath the eaves. His eyes glazed over slightly as he began, "A very, very long time ago, there was a bone from a powerful demon that, by itself, developed sentience. It reformed into a complete skeleton, thus becoming a full-fledged demon. It also acquired a rare ancient text detailing a secret technique that allowed one to transform their appearance and physical form upon mastery. That bone demon was exceptionally talented; in just a few years, it could shapeshift into countless forms..."

"A single bone from a powerful demon is this formidable...!" Shuhai couldn't help but interject. "How mighty must that great demon have been during its life?"

The old man chuckled. "That demon was constantly searching for its original body," he began. "However, that corpse was rumored to be hidden in an extremely secret place, buried a thousand *zhang* deep underground. Ordinary people couldn't even plunge into the abyss to commit suicide, let alone find it. After it developed sentience and crawled out of that abyss all those years ago, it could never return. Later, that bone demon carved out a fearsome reputation for itself, becoming a notorious corpse demon in its region. Even some immortals of higher cultivation levels tried to eradicate it, but its transformation techniques repeatedly caused them to fail. But then, one day, a rumor began to spread from an unknown source. Following that rumor, the bone corpse demon, who should have had a boundless future on the demonic path, finally met its ultimate demise."

A mere rumor could kill a corpse demon of such high cultivation?

Shuhai didn't believe it. "What was the rumor?" he pressed.

The old man slowly began. "The rumor was quite simple," he said. "It claimed that if one brewed the bone demon's spine into a thick soup and drank it, they would gain immortality."

Shuhai burst out laughing. "How can such a thing exist in this world?" he scoffed. "And people actually believed it?"

The old man sighed. "But many people... they believed it..."

Across the street from Ning Qinshui's old residence, several young people were knocking on a dilapidated ancient gate, calling out, "Granny Wang, Granny Wang... Are you selling lanterns today?"

Ning Changjiu pushed open his own door and watched the scene from afar. Even after the young people had left, the old residence's gate remained unopened.