Chapter 82: Great Pillar of the Building Breaks

As Lu Jiangxian was returned to the stone platform, he silently scanned the courtyard with his divine sense. Watching Li Mutian slowly enter the courtyard, leaning against the doorframe and breathing heavily with closed eyes, a wave of emotions suddenly washed over him.

"So much time has passed."

On the day Li Xiangping retrieved the Dharma Mirror from the river, Li Mutian was still a solemn patriarch with eyes that were weary yet powerful. Now, he was an old man, over seventy, too frail to walk. Since his transmigration, Lu Jiangxian had remained in a semi-conscious state within the mirror. Though nearly twenty years had passed in reality, in his perception, it had only been about a month. In that time, the Li family had established a firm foothold and emerged as a new cultivation family.

Li Mutian, however, grew weaker day by day. The rapid expansion of the Li family seemed as if he had willed it into existence with the last breath in his chest, a breath that was now reaching its very end. Lu Jiangxian's divine sense clearly perceived the fading of Li Mutian's life force; he wouldn't last more than a few days.

Li Mutian, meanwhile, sat peacefully by the door, his perpetually solemn expression now softened by a hint of a smile. He watched Li Xuanfeng, who was chattering away with a bow in his hand. His throat moved, and he, who hadn't made a request in over a decade, issued his first command.

Li Mutian said, "Grandpa wants to eat mutton noodles."

Li Xuanfeng was momentarily stunned. Then, he heard Li Mutian speak again: "Your grandfather truly wants to eat mutton noodles."

Li Xuanfeng assented and rushed out without looking back. His grandfather's strange way of speaking cast a great shadow of worry over him; his words didn't sound like a command, but rather a plea, which made the usually intelligent boy shudder.

"Grandpa wants to eat mutton noodles!"

Li Xuanfeng's urgent words made Ren Shi pause. Seeing the tears streaming down the child's face, she quickly gathered some women from the household, then patted Li Xuanfeng's shoulder, whispering a discreet instruction: "Quickly, call your father back."

The steaming mutton noodles, sprinkled with green onions, glistened with oil, their rich aroma filling the air. They were served in a porcelain bowl with a small chip, placed on a wooden table, with a pair of wooden chopsticks lying neatly beside it.

The bowl had been Li Mutian's for thirty-one years; the chip was made by a young Li Xiangping, who had received a severe beating for it, screaming in pain and avoiding Li Mutian for several days afterward.

Li Mutian slowly moved to his seat. Trembling, he picked up a mouthful of noodles. The mellow sour and spicy flavor of the noodles combined with the rich aroma of the mutton broth made his limbs tremble, and the taste made him burst into tears as he recalled the bowl of mutton noodles his father, Li Gengshui, had personally cooked for him.

That bowl of mutton noodles was far less delicious than this one—it had too little vinegar, too much spice, and insufficient broth. But both his mother and Li Mutian understood his father was apologizing. Yet, Li Mutian still smashed the bowl and left home, staying away for twenty-eight years.

Li Mutian had cursed his father for being indecisive and jeopardizing the entire family. Li Gengshui, in turn, had cursed his son, Li Mutian, calling him heartless and a bastard born from his wife's illicit affair with a wolf. Li Mutian drew his blade, pointing it at his father, watching Li Gengshui's lips turn purple with rage, tears streaking his face.

Twenty-eight years later, when Li Mutian returned home, his father had indeed died at the hands of the Yuan family. He coldly presented the heads of the entire Yuan family before his father's grave, then expressionlessly divided the family lands. Yet, he often awoke at night to find his pillow wet.

The memories only flickered through Li Mutian's mind for a dozen breaths, for he collapsed rigid after only a single bite of noodles. Li Mutian felt a burning log pierce his chest, searing his flesh with a crackling sound. Steel knives churned in his gut, and intense pain coursed through him from head to toe. The burning log seemed to jump from his chest into his mouth. His tongue and throat became parched, and his limbs stiffened, becoming as rigid as iron, so much so that the surrounding women could not lift him.

"Grandpa! Grandpa!"

Li Mutian faintly heard Li Xuanling's sobbing. This child, Li Tongya's eldest son, was unusually composed despite being only five, just like Tongya had been as a child. He grew anxious. He tried to move his tongue vigorously, wanting to make a sound to prove he was alright, but could only produce a few dog-like whimpers.

"To the bed! To the bed!"

Ren Shi cried out through her tears. Having only a few years ago bid farewell to her own father, Ren Ping'an, she saw that the old man was failing and knew she couldn't let him die on the cold ground. So, she frantically called for several people to help lift him.

"Where is Mother?"

Tian Yun asked hurriedly, only then learning that Li Mutian's wife, Liu Shi, the mother of everyone present, had gone down the mountain to visit her family some time ago.

Several people moved the rigid Li Mutian to the bed, fumbling about in a flurry. From the backyard, Lu Jiangxian watched with mixed emotions. He quickly cast a Quieting Spell and released the power of moonlight to prolong the old man's life, only ceasing his efforts when he saw Li Xiangping and others rushing up the mountain.

"His life has run its course."

Lu Jiangxian felt Li Mutian's breath grow progressively weaker. Li Xiangping and Li Tongya finally entered the courtyard, followed by a tearful Li Xuanfeng.

Li Tongya, with a worried expression, grasped Li Mutian's hand. He slowly channeled his peak-stage Fetal Breath cultivation into Li Mutian's body. Li Mutian trembled, exhaled deeply, and finally opened his eyes.

"Xiangping... Tongya..."

Li Mutian mumbled, his eyes wandering over the people around him. His mouth opened and closed, speaking something barely audible. Li Tongya, tears streaming, quickly bent down and heard Li Mutian murmur:

"The Chen, Tian, Liu, and other families are deeply rooted in the villages. Recall all their clan members to Lijing Village. Elevate the village to a town, but do not fear their growing power..."

"Father... please rest first. You can talk more when you feel better..."

Li Xiangping choked back a sob, trying to dissuade him. Li Mutian looked at him, shook his head, and forcefully uttered:

"Many Li clan members are arrogant; you must establish a clan leader to strictly govern them... The four direct bloodlines should be established as main branches, other Li surnames as minor branches, and those further away as sub-branches. Ensure fluid communication between them; you yourselves must manage this... Xuanxuan can manage the household, but you must oversee him. Xuanfeng is wild and intelligent, but you must guard against his indulgence and violence. Xuanling is steady and calm; he can accomplish great things... Jingtian... possesses beauty... beware of the potential for trouble her beauty might bring... The Shan Yue pose a far greater threat... Be extremely cautious!"

Li Mutian's voice grew fainter and fainter. Li Xiangping, tears in his eyes, leaned closer. He watched as the old man suddenly raised a hand and clutched his wrist. The grip was surprisingly strong, unlike that of a dying man. A fierce gleam appeared in his dying eyes as he writhed on the bed, and his voice suddenly grew louder as he spoke through gritted teeth:

"If necessary... abandon all the four villages and territories... Do not follow the example of the Wan family... As long as one Li clan member escapes... they can... succeed..."

Tears streamed down Li Xiangping's face as he fiercely declared: "Father... your son has remembered everything!"

Li Mutian then suddenly released his hand, his breath failing him instantly. Everyone immediately burst into loud sobs. Yet, the old man's gaze remained fixed on the bowl of mutton noodles on the nearby table. The broth was rich, the taste sour and spicy, and steam still rose from it.