616: Chapter 616 Imperial Tutor (6)

After the Dark Turmoil was suppressed, the Nine Continents finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The mountains and rivers remained, but many places had changed their appearance.

Some Sects were left with only half a gate.

Some ancient cities had half their walls collapsed.

Some villages and towns didn't even leave their names behind, with only a few charred wooden plaques buried in the weeds.

The people after the war still had to live.

Those Cultivators who lost their Sects, those Mortals who lost their homes, and those who picked up their lives from the darkness were all pushing their days forward, bit by bit.

Qin Yun continued to walk in the Mortal World.

He concealed all his Qi and changed many identities.

Sometimes, he was that taciturn old physician in a pharmacy.

His pulse readings were accurate, and he charged very little.

Sometimes, he was a schoolteacher in a mountain village.

His handwriting was average, but he could teach unruly children to be obedient.

Sometimes, he was an old beggar sunning himself at the city gate.

A broken bowl placed by his feet, he wouldn't shout a word for half a day.

Sometimes, he was just an old man about to freeze to death on a windy, snowy night.

Lying by the side of the road, his clothes tattered, his breathing faint.

When he saw suffering, he would intervene.

If a child had a high fever that wouldn't subside, he would give a bowl of medicine.

If a family's roof beam was about to collapse, he would casually straighten it.

If a group of refugees was targeted by wild beasts, he would throw a stone into the forest at night.

The next day, the beasts would be dead ten miles away.

No one knew who did it.

And he didn't need anyone to know.

But Qin Yun knew clearly that he still hadn't truly fallen into the Mortal World.

He was watching.

Like standing on the shore, watching people in the water struggle, occasionally reaching out to help.

His heart was still in a higher place.

The Immortal Path.

The azure pagoda.

Old friends.

That darkness deep within the Heavenly Abyss.

These things always weighed on his heart.

He learned to act as a Mortal.

But he still didn't quite resemble a true Mortal.

After the Dark Turmoil, the Nine Continents finally produced a new generation.

Among them, one young man was the most special.

He came from humble origins.

He had no Imperial Bloodline.

He had no Ancient Sect background.

Even his Legacy was a half-roll of a fragmentary scripture picked up from the ruins.

His name was Xuan Yang.

When Xuan Yang first appeared, he was just a youth walking out of the post-war ruins.

His clothes were tattered.

His blade was chipped.

Behind him followed dozens of people even more miserable than him.

There were old people.

There were children.

There were young Cultivators whose Sects had been destroyed.

There were soldiers who had lost a leg but were still stubbornly pushing forward.

Wherever he went, he gathered the scattered people.

He conquered a small city occupied by mountain bandits, but didn't plant his flag first.

He opened the granary first.

He brought out the grain and distributed it by head count.

Someone advised him to buy over the Cultivators first.

Xuan Yang only replied: "Cultivators can endure three days of hunger, but a child will cry after one night."

Later, he defeated a powerful clan.

That powerful clan had taken advantage of the Dark Turmoil to occupy three cities and drive away the refugees.

Many people thought Xuan Yang would massacre the city to establish his authority.

He did not.

He only killed the ringleaders.

He took out all the spirit sources, medicinal materials, and grain from the warehouse to repair the city walls, fix the Formation, and settle the refugees.

Some people called him a fool.

He said: "The Nine Continents just crawled out of the darkness; if we can save some lives, let's save them."

Xuan Yang became stronger and stronger.

The people around him also increased.

He didn't look at Bloodline.

He didn't ask about origins.

As long as one was willing to protect the people behind them, they could stand by his side.

That year, the snow fell heavily.

The snowfields of the Northern Yuan Territory didn't melt for three consecutive months.

Xuan Yang led a migration group through the snow.

There were over three hundred people in the group.

There wasn't much grain.

There were even fewer Medicinal Pills.

The daily porridge was so thin one could see their reflection in it.

That night, the wind was biting.

It felt like knives scraping against the face.

The group stopped behind a sheltered stone slope.

Several iron pots were set up, cooking the last bit of rice.

The porridge pot was steaming.

The rice grains were pitifully few.

Many people stared at the pot, but no one spoke.

Xuan Yang received half a bowl.

Before he could drink it, someone at the edge of the group suddenly shouted.

"There's someone lying over there!"

Several young Cultivators carried torches over.

In the snow, an old man lay collapsed.

His clothes were tattered.

His hair was covered in frost.

His face was pale.

He looked like he only had half a breath left.

Someone whispered: "In this weather, he can't be saved."

Others hesitated and said: "Brother Xuan Yang, our people don't have enough to eat."

"Taking him along might slow down the group."

"How about we leave some firewood for him?"

Xuan Yang didn't speak.

He carried that half-bowl of porridge and walked over.

He crouched down, helped the old man up, and carried him to the fire.

He then handed his own half-bowl of hot porridge to the old man.

Someone got anxious.

"You haven't eaten all day yourself."

Xuan Yang steadied the bowl and only said: "As long as the person isn't dead, we can't pretend not to see."

These words weren't loud.

But they made the surroundings quiet for a moment.

The old man sat by the fire, his fingers touching the rim of the bowl.

The bowl was rough.

The porridge was watery.

Rice grains floated in the water, pitifully few.

But it was very hot.

The heat hit his face, carrying a hint of the smell of fire and smoke.

Qin Yun looked down at the half-bowl of porridge.

It had been many years since he had stopped his steps for a bowl of porridge.

It wasn't that this bowl of porridge saved his life.

It was that the person handing the porridge, while hungry himself, still handed the bowl over.

Qin Yun took a sip.

Very watery.

A bit burnt.

But it was hot.

The heat traveled from his throat all the way to his stomach.

He was silent for a long time.

Xuan Yang didn't say anything more, just tore off half of his own outer robe and draped it over his shoulders.

A child nearby whispered: "Brother Xuan Yang, you are like this to everyone."

Xuan Yang patted the child's head.

"When you have the strength in the future, you should be like this too."

After the night deepened.

Most people fell asleep.

Xuan Yang kept watch alone.

The fire burned very low.

The snow was still falling.

Qin Yun sat by the fire, quietly watching the snow.

Xuan Yang looked at him several times.

He vaguely sensed that this old man was not ordinary.

The wind and snow falling on the old man always seemed inexplicably lighter.

The firelight shone on the old man's face, but it didn't reveal that true gray decay of the dying.

But he didn't ask who the old man was.

He also didn't ask where the old man came from.

He just added firewood to the fire and asked in a low voice: "Old man, do you think this world can get better?"

Qin Yun watched the flames.

"It can get better for a while."

Xuan Yang was silent.

He understood the meaning in those words.

It wasn't that it would get better.

It was that it could get better for a while.

It seemed this world was destined to have even heavier wind and snow.

He didn't press further.

He just held his blade and sat by the fire.

"If it can get better for a while, that's enough for many people to live for a while."

Qin Yun glanced at him.

There was weariness on the youth's face.

But no sign of retreat in his eyes.

In the second half of the night, the snow eased a bit.

When dawn was approaching, Qin Yun stood up.

Xuan Yang also stood up.

"Old man, are you leaving?"

Qin Yun nodded.

"You shared half a bowl of porridge with me; I have noted it down."

Xuan Yang smiled.

"It was just half a bowl of porridge."

"As long as one can survive, that's good."

Qin Yun didn't speak again, turned, and walked into the wind and snow.

Xuan Yang lowered his head to add firewood to the fire.

When he looked up again, there was no one in the snow.

No footprints.

No traces of pressing on the snow.

Only a gust of wind blew back from afar, pressing the flames down for a moment.

Xuan Yang stood in the snow, watching for a long time.

He didn't say anything.

He just woke up the remaining people and continued the journey.

Tens of thousands of years later.

Xuan Yang swept across his generation and finally reached the Heavenly Emperor Tribulation.

That day, the sky over the Nine Continents turned completely black.

Lightning was like a sea.

The tribulation light pressed down from the sky, each bolt carrying the backlash of the incomplete Laws after the Dark Turmoil.

This was not an ordinary Heavenly Emperor Tribulation.

It was the interrogation of the new Heavenly Emperor while the wounds of the Nine Continents had not yet healed.

Xuan Yang was beaten until his flesh and blood were blurred by the tribulation light.

Bones broke and reconnected.

Reconnected and broke again.

He still did not retreat.

But in the end, even his Imperial Soul began to shatter.

Xuan Yang's Heavenly Palace had not yet truly taken shape.

Those post-war refugees, Loose Cultivators, and people who had lost their Sects had finally found a place to live.

If he died, all this would scatter again.

Xuan Yang knelt in the sea of thunder, his palms supporting the shattered Void Realm.

He was not afraid of death.

But he could not let go.

Just as the tribulation light was about to completely obliterate him, a voice fell into his mind.

"You want to become an Emperor, is it to suppress your generation, or to provide them with a roof?"

Xuan Yang opened his eyes abruptly.

Blood flowed down from his forehead.

He suddenly remembered the snowy night many years ago.

Half a bowl of porridge.

The fire.

That old man with no footprints.

He understood.

He no longer underwent the tribulation with a heart of competition.

He no longer thought about being the strongest person.

He just looked up, toward those people behind the sea of thunder who were still waiting for him to return.

"I want to provide them with a roof."

This thought arose.

The sea of thunder shook violently.

The Heavenly Emperor Tribulation still fell.

But Xuan Yang's aura changed.

No longer a strong man fighting for destiny alone.

But a mountain willing to shelter countless people from the rain.

When the last layer of tribulation light fell, Xuan Yang did not dodge.

He opened his arms and took it head-on.

Flesh and blood shattered.

The Imperial Soul reorganized.

The Destiny descended.

Xuan Yang, attained the Dao as a Heavenly Emperor.

After the sea of thunder dispersed, Xuan Yang did not look at the Nine Continents' worship first.

He turned around and gazed into the distance at an unnamed mountain peak.

He couldn't see anyone.

But he knew that person had been there.

Xuan Yang bowed heavily in that direction.

Above the mountain peak.

Qin Yun stood with his hands behind his back, his robes fluttering in the wind.

He watched Xuan Yang successfully attain the Dao, his expression calm.

After a moment, he turned and left.

The good Karma had been planted.

From then on, Xuan Yang would have to walk his own path.

Many more years passed.

The Xuan Yang Heavenly Palace was established.

It was not as closed off as the Imperial clans.

It was not as obsessed with the purity of a Legacy as the Ancient Sects.

Before the main gate of the Heavenly Palace stood a Stone Tablet.

On it were only a few lines of text.

Do not ask about Bloodline.

Do not ask about origins.

Loose Cultivators may enter.

Survivors of the war may enter.

Survivors of Sects may enter.

All who are willing to protect the Nine Continents may enter.

The Xuan Yang Heavenly Palace quickly became the most unique power after the Dark Turmoil.

It was like an eave.

It sheltered countless people in the broken era who had nowhere else to go.

Many honored Xuan Yang as the Xuan Yang Heavenly Emperor.

Qin Yun had also watched from afar a few times.

Each time, he merely watched.

He did not intervene.

He did not leave his name.

He continued to walk through the Mortal World.

Sometimes he was a physician.

Sometimes he was a teacher.

Sometimes he was a beggar.

Sometimes, he became an old carpenter.

In his later years, the Xuan Yang Heavenly Emperor had a son.

His name was Xuan Zhao.

Xuan Zhao had extremely high natural talent.

But his temperament was different from Xuan Yang's.

Xuan Yang was like a mountain rising from the post-war ruins.

Xuan Zhao, however, was like the water flowing down from the mountains.

Gentle.

Clean.

And too easily soft-hearted.

Many elders in the Heavenly Palace were worried.

"The Young Lord is too gentle."

"Can he support the Heavenly Palace in the future?"

Xuan Yang was also worried.

But he did not lock his son in the Heavenly Palace.

When Xuan Zhao was a youth, he took the initiative to leave the Heavenly Palace to travel.

He brought no Dao Protector.

He did not reveal his identity.

He only wanted to see what the Nine Continents that his father protected were really like.

That year, the rainy season was very long.

On the edge of a small town, there was a dilapidated temple.

The temple beams were leaking rain.

Several refugees were hiding inside, curled up in a ball.

Qin Yun, disguised as an old carpenter, was standing on a wooden ladder repairing the beams.

Rainwater dripped down through the cracks in the tiles.

While hammering in wooden wedges, he looked down at the people below with disdain.

"Don't just stand there, get a basin to catch the water."

When Xuan Zhao passed by the dilapidated temple, he happened to see this scene.

The old carpenter was old, and he swayed while standing on the wooden ladder.

He hurriedly stepped forward to steady the ladder and helped lift the wooden board.

Qin Yun looked down and glanced at him.

"Your hands are quite steady."

Xuan Zhao smiled and said, "I've never done this before, I'm learning on the spot."

"You dare to start working while learning on the spot?"

"It's better than watching an old man fall."

Qin Yun snorted.

"You certainly have a way with words."

After the rain stopped.

A fire was lit in the dilapidated temple.

Qin Yun took a few sweet potatoes from his bosom and threw them into the fire.

Xuan Zhao received one.

The sweet potato was roasted charred black.

He peeled off the skin, and when the heat surged out from inside, it startled him, thinking it was some kind of Fire Dao technique erupting; he almost threw it away.

Qin Yun looked at him with disdain.

"You can't even eat a sweet potato, yet you're out traveling."

Xuan Zhao blew on his fingers and smiled naturally.

"I haven't seen one before."

"Then your life before must not have been very human-like."

Xuan Zhao was stunned for a moment, then smiled even more happily.

"The old man speaks very directly."

After that, Xuan Zhao came often.

He did not ask about cultivation Realms.

He did not ask about Divine Abilities or secret techniques.

He did not ask how to compete for the top spot.

The questions he asked were all very strange.

"Old man, why must people become stronger?"

Qin Yun planed the wood.

"If you don't become stronger, it's easy to be bullied by others."

"Then, after becoming stronger, if it's just to make others fear you, does that count as going down the wrong path?"

The plane in Qin Yun's hand paused.

"It does."

Xuan Zhao asked again: "My father has protected many people, but he has also killed many people. Do these two things conflict?"

Qin Yun continued to plane the wood.

Wood shavings fell in curls.

"A knife can kill, and it can also chop wood."

"It depends on what the person holding the knife is doing it for."

Xuan Zhao sat at the doorway, listening very attentively.

A few days later, he asked again: "The greater a person's ability, do they owe more to others?"

Qin Yun put down the plane and looked up at him.

"You kid have a lot of questions."

Xuan Zhao felt a bit embarrassed.

"I can't figure it out."

Qin Yun pointed to the wooden beam in the courtyard.

"Being a carpenter with great strength is not for smashing wood."

"It is to set the beam firmly."

He pointed to the pharmacy in town.

"Being a physician with good medical skills is not to make patients respect you."

"It is to make the patient suffer less for one night."

Finally, he picked up a wooden tablet with a crooked character carved on it.

"Being a teacher with good handwriting is not to make students worship you."

"It is so that they can write their own names in the future."

Xuan Zhao sat there for a long time without speaking.

Qin Yun threw the wooden tablet to him.

"Don't overthink it."

"If you want to become stronger, first think clearly about which beam you want to support."

Xuan Zhao caught the wooden tablet with both hands.

He looked down at it for a long time.

"I have remembered it."

During this time, Xuan Zhao liked coming to find this old carpenter more and more.

The old man had a bad temper.

He spoke directly.

He charged money strangely too.

He charged more to the rich.

He only charged a bowl of rice to the poor.

But the doors and windows he repaired never leaked air again.

The dilapidated temple he patched could sleep many people on rainy nights.

Xuan Zhao felt this old man was very interesting.

Strange.

Reliable.

And also made people feel at ease.

Not long after, the Xuan Yang Heavenly Emperor arrived.

He did not bring a large group of people.

Nor did he bring Imperial Might upon the town.

He was just wearing green clothes and walked into the town alone.

When he walked to the entrance of the carpenter's shop, Qin Yun was sitting on a small stool planing wood.

Wood shavings fell all over the floor.

Xuan Yang stood at the doorway and took a look.

At the first glance, he recognized him.

A snowy night.

Half a bowl of hot porridge.

That one sentence before the Heavenly Emperor Tribulation.

So much time had passed.

He was already a Heavenly Emperor.

But this old man seemed to have never changed.

Xuan Yang walked into the shop.

Xuan Zhao was about to salute, but Xuan Yang raised his hand to stop him.

He walked to Qin Yun's front and solemnly performed a salute.

This salute was very heavy.

Qin Yun did not stand up.

He remained sitting on the wooden stool, holding the plane in his hand.

"A generation's Heavenly Emperor saluting a carpenter, aren't you afraid of others laughing?"

Xuan Yang lowered his head and said: "In that year on a snowy night, Senior accepted half a bowl of porridge from me."

"Later, during the Dao-attaining Tribulation, this Junior received one sentence from Senior."

"Today, this salute is not a loss."

Xuan Zhao stood to the side, completely stunned.

It was the first time he had seen his father perform such a salute to anyone.

And for the first time, he understood that the old carpenter he had been chatting with these days was definitely not an ordinary old man.

But he did not ask.

Because his father did not ask.

Qin Yun looked at Xuan Yang for a moment.

"These years, the Heavenly Palace has done well."

There was light in Xuan Yang's eyes, but it was suppressed very steadily.

"Compared to what Senior has done, it is far too lacking."

"I only built a little eave for the people I could see."

Qin Yun put down the plane.

"Being able to build an eave is not bad."

Xuan Yang was silent for a moment, then finally stated his intention.

"This Junior has a request."

Qin Yun looked at Xuan Zhao.

"For him?"

"Yes."

Xuan Yang nodded.

"I would like to ask Senior to take Xuan Zhao as a Disciple."

Xuan Zhao looked up sharply.

Qin Yun refused very quickly.

"I will not."

Xuan Yang was not surprised.

"Why won't Senior accept him?"

Qin Yun picked up the wood next to him and continued to look at the grain.

"I do not want to become involved in new Karma."

"Besides, I am not suited to teach people."

After listening, Xuan Yang did not force him.

He just said in a low voice: "In this life, I have learned how to support a Heavenly Palace."

"But I may not be able to teach him how to be a person."

"The questions he asks, I cannot answer completely."

"Senior can answer them."

The wood in Qin Yun's hand stopped.

This sentence was very light.

But it landed very deeply.

He had always been learning about the Mortal World.

But the questions Xuan Zhao asked were exactly the simplest and also the most difficult part of the Mortal World.

Why people become stronger.

Whether the strong should owe the weak.

Whether protection and killing conflict.

Qin Yun thought he had already seen through these questions.

But when they were truly asked by the youth over and over again, he realized that he was still on the path.

Outside, the rain fell again.

Rainwater dripped on the eaves.

Patter.

Patter.

Qin Yun was silent for a long time, then finally looked at Xuan Zhao.

"Are you willing to take me as your Revered Master?"

Xuan Zhao first looked at his father.

Then he looked at Qin Yun.

He was not excited because he knew Qin Yun was extraordinary.

Instead, he asked very seriously: "After becoming your Disciple, can I still ask those strange questions?"

Qin Yun looked at him.

After a moment, he suddenly smiled.

"You can."

Xuan Zhao immediately knelt down.

"Disciple Xuan Zhao, greets Revered Master."

He kowtowed.

It was steady.

Xuan Yang stood to the side, and finally, there was a bit more relief in his eyes.

Qin Yun did not dodge this salute.

He accepted it.

This was his first Disciple in the true sense.

It was also the first time he had taken on new Karma on the path of the Mortal World.

In the carpenter's shop, the sound of rain continued.

An old wooden stool.

A notched plane.

A youth kneeling on the ground.

A Heavenly Emperor standing to the side.

Qin Yun sat before them and suddenly felt that the path of the Mortal World seemed to have finally truly fallen beneath his feet.

PS: A long chapter. The true protagonists of the Imperial Teacher arc are more than one person.