Chapter 2: Give Me a Sword

Unaware of the passage of years in the mountains, Gu Yi felt as if he had awakened from a dream three years long. He experienced a sense of detachment, much like that ancient adage about not knowing of the Han, let alone the Wei and Jin. Lying atop the wooden cabin, gazing up at a sky both strange and familiar, scattered with stars, his thoughts drifted to places unknown.

In the clearing before him sat Hexian and her attendants around the fire—and of course, the golden-hued chicken. To this group, Gu Yi did not seem a threat; in fact, he appeared to have little interest in them at all. There truly were solitary cultivators in this world.

Perhaps Hexian admired such wanderers, which is why she tolerated a certain degree of his discourtesy, even climbing up to the roof herself.

Gu Yi opened his eyes slowly. "Little girl, aren't you going to sleep?"

Hexian sighed, stroking the chicken’s head. This spiritual creature had yet to develop humanlike awareness; oblivious to its master’s troubles, it slept soundly.

"I can’t sleep. I rarely get to visit Small Garden Mountain, and I had hoped to meet an immortal…"

Ah, it must have been the imperial guards turning her away earlier that left her disappointed.

Gu Yi closed his eyes again. "The mountain’s closure is only temporary; it won’t last long."

Hexian pressed her small lips together in frustration and plopped down beside him, a touch of petulance in her posture. "I rarely have the chance to go out… What about you? You came to Small Garden Mountain seeking an immortal and failed—don’t you feel any disappointment?"

"Do you truly revere immortals so deeply?" Gu Yi asked, hands behind his head, his curiosity piqued.

"Of course. Everyone in the Xu Kingdom reveres them." Hope shone in Hexian’s eyes, but as she looked at Gu Yi, a hint of pity appeared. "I heard from Uncle Chen that you’re a Fallen Cultivator? Is that why you’re out of sorts?"

"Fallen Cultivator?"

"It means someone who’s dropped from a higher cultivation realm to a lower one."

The path of cultivation was fraught with peril; not everyone reached the end. Some met with misfortune or lost their way, and many made mistakes along their journey. Such people were given the title "Fallen Cultivator."

Gu Yi hadn’t expected this. "Is it really that obvious?"

Hexian spoke with care, as if fearful of overstepping. "...Because Uncle Chen said, falling from the sky is something that happens to Fallen Cultivators."

They believe themselves capable, yet when their strength wanes, reality proves otherwise.

The night breeze played with the stray locks at Gu Yi’s temple. His expression didn’t change, as though those harsh words referred to someone else.

"Sorry, I…" Hexian twisted her finger nervously, sensing the awkwardness she’d created. She regretted speaking at all.

"No need to apologize." Gu Yi couldn’t help but smile. "It’s late. Go to sleep. Tomorrow, by the Emperor’s command, we’ll descend the mountain quickly."

She was a kind soul, and Gu Yi hoped she’d leave this dangerous place soon. When immortals still resided on Small Garden Mountain, all behaved. But now, it had truly become perilous.

The next day, the travelers all changed direction on the mountain path, for the imperial guards were indeed scaling the heights in great numbers, led by generals in silver armor patrolling on horseback.

After seeing two people arrested, most of the seekers realized the situation.

Gu Yi still sat on the right side of the carriage. Having not denied being a Fallen Cultivator the previous night, he now found himself the recipient of sympathy—and an extra pastry for breakfast. He began to think this might be a promising profession, at least for the journey.

"Where does Young Master Gu intend to go?" Uncle Chen asked, guiding the horses and making conversation.

Gu Yi had to consider this himself; there seemed little he truly needed to do—only two things, both requiring a trip to Luyang. Luyang it would be.

"I’m searching for something, but the world is vast, and alone I don’t know where to begin. Do you know of anyone who trades in such matters?"

"I’m not well-informed, but Luyang is a large city—there should be such people there," Uncle Chen replied. "May I ask what you seek? Perhaps I could assist."

The kindness shown by this master and servant was evident—they were willing to help him, after all. Yet searching for a needle in a haystack, two people or one made little difference, and he had only vague clues to go on.

"Thank you, Uncle Chen, but I’ll manage on my own."

From behind the carriage curtain, Hexian asked, "Where will you begin your search, Young Master Gu?"

"Luyang, I suppose." Gu Yi kept his eyes fixed on the sky, speaking casually. "Luyang… it’s livelier, after all."

Uncle Chen laughed. "Then we’re on the same road. I’ll hurry the horses, so we’ll reach Luyang sooner and perhaps learn why His Majesty gave such an order."

Gu Yi cared little for imperial edicts or for the disappointed seekers glancing back at the four massive stones suspended above the mountain’s summit.

Everything about Small Garden Mountain was ordinary, the roads not steep but winding, lined with wildflowers and trees. Occasionally, animals would poke out their heads, meeting people’s eyes before darting away—ordinary creatures, not yet touched by cultivation.

A gray squirrel had followed Uncle Chen’s carriage, leaping from branch to branch, showing some hint of spiritual progress. But as they descended, ordinary animals grew more common, and those with cultivation grew rarer. From afar, the four great stones now looked like mere pebbles at the roadside.

Uncle Chen seemed perplexed. Gazing back at the summit, he remarked, "Something feels off. The Emperor suddenly forbids people from seeking immortals, and that Four Stones Dragon Gate Array… it’s become much smaller."

"It looks smaller because we’re farther away."

Uncle Chen shook his head. "I mean its presence—its awe. When I first climbed the mountain, I felt compelled to kneel before the Four Stones—that is awe."

Awe was an elusive thing, and though Uncle Chen said as much, Gu Yi couldn’t quite relate.

No matter. So long as the day passed without incident, safe travel was all that mattered.

On the mountain’s outskirts, the lodges were gone. Tonight, they would have to make do outdoors, but by tomorrow evening, they’d be out of Small Garden Mountain.

Hexian’s attendants set up a chair for her, then busied themselves with making a fire. Gu Yi, unconcerned, sat as Hexian did. Several cast him a glance—what a lazy fellow, they thought.

Uncle Chen had chosen a fairly open spot, and from time to time, they could still see groups hurrying down the mountain—those who had come only to return. Not a single seeker looked happy; none knew what had really happened.

After a while, Uncle Chen returned. After instructing a few attendants, he sat beside Gu Yi and spoke in a low voice, "I’ve heard that on Small Garden Mountain, there are some bold enough to rob and kill."

Gu Yi showed no reaction, remaining calm.

"How much cultivation do you have left?" Uncle Chen asked. The stubbled middle-aged man didn’t seem intent on rubbing salt in his wounds; he was simply assessing their strength.

"If it’s an ordinary martial artist, they won’t be able to harm me," Gu Yi replied.

"And if it’s someone at the Settled Mind stage?" Uncle Chen pressed. Even a Fallen Cultivator shouldn’t have lost everything; Settled Mind was, after all, the first realm of cultivation.

"Hard to say," Gu Yi shook his head, giving no definite answer.

Uncle Chen nodded, seeming to understand, and patted Gu Yi on the back. "I’ll keep watch tonight. Eat something and get some rest."

Night fell.

The stars above were different from the night before; several bright ones had vanished. Hexian had already retired to the carriage, while her seven or eight attendants leaned against the wheels, drifting into uneasy sleep as the flickering firelight danced across Uncle Chen’s troubled face.

Gu Yi sat beneath a tree, not far from him.

In the quiet, the middle-aged man suddenly asked, "Will you try to cultivate again?"

"I suppose so."

"Have you thought of… trying something else?"

He was hinting, perhaps, that Gu Yi was no longer suited for this path. Cultivation is like life—everyone gets but one chance.

The young man only smiled. "I’m not good at anything else. I was supposed to go into information security, but the dream of being a programmer is impossible here."

If Gu Yi had the skill, he’d most like to experiment with spices—honestly, the food here was terrible. Sometimes he even dreamed of Sichuan hotpot.

Uncle Chen found his words strange—what was he talking about?

"I don’t really understand, but may I ask why you became a Fallen Cultivator?"

Gu Yi didn’t answer, unwilling to lie, yet unable to share the truth.

"Strange… but how are you so sure I’m a Fallen Cultivator?"

Uncle Chen replied confidently, "You don’t look ordinary, so you must be a cultivator. You’re not injured, yet your spiritual aura is faint. Besides, among those seeking immortality, few are like my mistress who come purely out of reverence—most have their reasons. You came to Small Garden Mountain to see if the immortals could help someone like you, didn’t you?"

I came to seek immortals?

Gu Yi chuckled. That wasn’t a bad reason—it explained his presence on Small Garden Mountain.

And then, without warning, a sense of danger crept in—the air grew colder, darkness thick with hidden fear.

Uncle Chen’s brow furrowed; he stood, alert and watchful. Gu Yi remained seated, one hand resting atop his bent right knee, still looking skyward. "Lend me a sword," he said quietly.

"You’re a sword cultivator?"

"I have some skill."

"Then where is your own sword?"

"In truth, when it comes to real fights, I rarely need to draw it. Carrying it is a nuisance, so I’ve grown used to going without."