HCAW 140

Chapter 140: Looking Back Through Dust and Wind

After that, Emperor Bai would sometimes ask Tianfu Guard, “So, Minsheng, will you stay here in Guixi with me?”

But each time, Tianfu Guard would only smile bitterly and shake his head. “Please allow this subject a few more days to think.”

Emperor Bai was surprised. All along, Tianfu Guard had been like a little dog who only knew to wag his tail and follow loyally at his heels. This was one of the rare times Tianfu Guard had disobeyed him.

One day, with the north wind circling and snow drifting like catkins, the two were patrolling along the ice wall. When they reached the Taoyuan stone gate, Tianfu Guard suddenly dropped to his knees before Emperor Bai and said, “Your Majesty, I have thought on this for many days. I’ve come to believe we cannot remain here long. Please permit me to leave.”

“You want to leave?”

Emperor Bai’s heart was suddenly clenched tight. His voice turned sharp.

“Yes.”

“Why? Is it not good here? Even if we cross the Taoyuan stone gate a hundred more times, we will never return to Penglai—and we will only see the Xian Mountain fall to ruin again and again!”

“Precisely for that reason, I still believe that one day, we will find a Penglai untouched by wind and snow. And if we cannot find it—then we’ll build one of our own. Will Your Majesty come with me?” Tianfu Guard asked, his eyes clear and bright as stars.

Emperor Bai met his gaze—and felt burned by it, hastily turning away.

“I… I won’t go. I know full well this journey leads nowhere. And I forbid you to leave.”

“No, I will go. I know Your Majesty’s heart. You don’t truly wish to stay trapped here.”

“You are not me! How could you understand the pain of watching Penglai decline and being powerless to save it? And once you pass through the Taoyuan stone gate, we will be parted forever!”

Emperor Bai suddenly lost control, his voice hoarse with anguish.

But Tianfu Guard gently placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly:

“Your Majesty, do you remember the vow you made before setting out on your expedition?”

Emperor Bai took a deep breath. The cold pierced his lungs. His eyes looked blank. “I don’t remember. I don’t even know the way back to Penglai.”

“Though I am not Your Majesty, I know your heart. You are a sovereign who bears the people’s hopes—and no one more than you longs to see Penglai prosperous again. I will keep running, without rest, until the day Your Majesty remembers your true wish.”

Tianfu Guard curved his lips into a sorrowful smile.

“And one day, we will meet again in a warm and gentle Penglai. If I were to take you with me now, Your Majesty would only mourn and wallow in another Guixi. So let us part here. If one day you understand, then come find me beyond the Taoyuan stone gate. I’ll be waiting.”

Emperor Bai sighed long and heavy. “Tomorrow’s Penglai is but an illusion. All your efforts are just wasted strength. I’m only afraid that one day you will despair of the Xian Mountain and fall harder than I ever did.”

Tianfu Guard chuckled lightly. “We’ll talk about that if it ever comes.”

They stood at the Taoyuan stone gate, saying nothing. Heaven and earth stretched vast and silent.

At last, Emperor Bai said, “Don’t go, Minsheng. You said you’d stay by my side forever.”

Tianfu Guard gave him a look full of sorrow and compassion. “But if staying by Your Majesty’s side means watching you sink into shadow without ever awakening, then it is better that I leave.”

He turned and walked toward the Taoyuan stone gate, his farewell drifting like a feather through the cold wind:

“Farewell, Your Majesty.”

Emperor Bai reached out, trying to grab the edge of his cloak—but just then the wind and snow surged fiercely. When he blinked again, only the Taoyuan stone gate remained. Tianfu Guard had vanished.

Emperor Bai stood alone for a long time, as if the bones had been pulled from his body. He collapsed to his knees.

Above his head, terns still chirped and circled. And he felt, in that moment, like a bird that had lost its flock, fallen into this place alone.

Now, in the vast expanse of Guixi, aside from himself, there was only endless ice and snow, and the solitude that would stretch on for a hundred years.

_______

In Emperor Bai’s City, the cold was bitter to the bone. Outside the hall, snow and wind raged. The old man’s tale paused.

Chu Kuang breathed softly, struggling to keep his consciousness. He glanced secretly at the old man before him. The man’s hair and beard were frosted white, yet his frame stood upright like an unsheathed blade.

And from everything he had said, Chu Kuang had already guessed who he was.

“So… you are Emperor Bai?” he said.

The old man remained silent.

Chu Kuang continued, “You’ve guarded this place for over a hundred years… just to wait for the next person to reach Guixi, haven’t you?”

At length, the old man slowly opened his mouth.

“Yes. I’ve been here for decades, perhaps centuries—I no longer know. I am Emperor Bai, Ji Zhi, the one who long ago abandoned Penglai.”

Chu Kuang asked, “And that Tianfu Guard in your story… did he ever come back?”

The old man’s gaze suddenly softened.

“Since then, we have been like sun and moon—forever apart. Once he passed through the Taoyuan stone gate, he could never find the road back again. I knew it would be so. You… have you seen him? Without him to guide you, you’d likely never have reached this place.”

“Yes, he is my…” Chu Kuang hesitated for a moment and said, “Master.”

He then recounted in full how he had been rescued on Mount Difei, how his master had taught him archery, and the life they shared together. The old man nodded and smiled as he listened, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. The past, like a dusted mirror, gradually revealed its luster again, and he seemed to return to the radiant youth who had once stood side by side with Tianfu Guard in brilliance.

When Chu Kuang finished, he caught his breath and asked again, “My master was Tianfu Guard, real name Fang Minsheng. I was also named Fang Minsheng at birth. What connection do I really have with him?”

“He is you, and you are him. As I see it, you are the version of him he found after passing through the Taoyuan stone gate,” said Emperor Bai, Ji Zhi. “Where is he now?”

A sudden ache struck Chu Kuang’s heart as he recalled the Fan Ruo bow. “My master… has long since passed away.”

The old man seemed unsurprised, lowering his eyes with a calm expression. He finally said quietly, “Is that so? He hasn’t come looking for me in a long time—so this is the outcome, as I expected.” Chu Kuang explained the circumstances of his master’s death in detail. The old man remained expressionless, and Chu Kuang thought him cold as stone—but then he noticed a single tear clinging to the corner of his eye. The tear that had never fallen through a century of witnessing the fall of Xian Mountain, finally dropped.

“He followed me the longest and was the most loyal. Yet in the end, he too abandoned me, just as I once abandoned Penglai. Perhaps this is divine punishment.”

Chu Kuang looked at the old man. In that instant, his figure seemed more hunched than before, as if burdened by the weight of countless lives. Then, a thought struck Chu Kuang—his master had never truly left, but had continued ceaselessly, striving for Xian Mountain.

Now, in his vision, the silver-masked figure stood before Emperor Bai, eyes lowered, gazing at him with quiet devotion. “Your Majesty, this subject is here,” the figure said softly. But the aged Emperor Bai could not hear him, and only sat in silence.

Chu Kuang also understood: the silver-masked figure he had seen after consuming the meat slices was perhaps not an illusion, but the lingering soul of his master. He said to Emperor Bai, “There are still things I don’t understand. The Penglai I remember doesn’t quite match the Penglai you described. You say that Penglai, Yingzhou, and Daiyu are the three dynasties of Xian Mountain. But in our world, things seem completely different.”

“What are they like?”

“In our world, there are five Xian Mountains—Penglai, Yingzhou, Yuanqiao, Fanghu, and Daiyu. And in our world, Emperor Bai and Tianfu Guard set out on an expedition over eighty years ago. Since then, though there have been storms, it hasn’t grown too cold, nor has there been drought…” Chu Kuang spoke rapidly, but soon began coughing again.

“Before coming to this place, did you pass through the Taoyuan stone gate?”

Chu Kuang suddenly awoke to the truth. Before being chased by Yu Ji Guard and Yu Yin Guard and fleeing to Yingzhou, they had passed through the Zhenhai Stone Gate; from Yingzhou to Yuanqiao, they had passed through the gate at Qingyu Gao Mountain; from Daiyu to Guixu, they had struggled desperately to enter through the Daiyu city gate’s Taoyuan Stone Gate—each time they went to a new place, they passed through a Taoyuan stone gate!

“Then… does that mean there weren’t five Xian Mountains at all? Just one? We were merely traveling through different eras of the same Xian Mountain?”

“Yes. From beginning to end, there has only been one Penglai. The ‘Yingzhou,’ ‘Yuanqiao,’ ‘Fanghu,’ and ‘Daiyu’ you saw after crossing the Taoyuan Stone Gate were simply Penglai in different eras,” the old man said with unshakable certainty. “From start to finish, you’ve been circling the same place!”

Chu Kuang stood dumbfounded.

After a long pause, he gave a bitter laugh. “So Your Majesty means to say we’ve been running in circles, never able to leave Penglai. We’ve found no way to stop the wind and snow, and this place is the end of it all, isn’t it?”

Emperor Bai nodded. Chu Kuang asked again, “If that’s the case, then who is ‘Emperor Changyi’?”

At that, Emperor Bai froze. “Who?”

“Emperor Changyi. Isn’t he your younger brother? In our world, he governs Penglai. Rumor has it he killed you and seized the throne.” As Chu Kuang spoke, his own confusion deepened—he could see the same confusion on Emperor Bai’s face.

“I… have no younger brother. I was born during a time of war. Even if I had blood kin, they all perished.”

A sudden chill ran up Chu Kuang’s spine. If Emperor Bai had no brother, then who was Emperor Changyi?

Why did the Penglai ruled by Emperor Changyi differ so greatly from the Penglai Emperor Bai had described? Muddled timelines, deliberately destroyed historical records… A terrifying suspicion crept into his heart.

“He has dwelled in Guixu too long. He does not know what came after.”

Suddenly, the silver-masked figure in his vision spoke. Chu Kuang saw him step forward.

“Let me tell you what came next, Chu Kuang.”

______

And so, the shadow of Tianfu Guard began to recount a tale to Chu Kuang.

After parting from Emperor Bai, Tianfu Guard stepped through the Taoyuan stone gate into another era. There, he found Emperor Bai Ji Zhi who had just arrived at Guixu.

That day, snow fell heavily. Tianfu Guard slipped into the tent and stumbled upon Emperor Bai in a weakened state. When the emperor saw him, his expression changed as if in a dream. Suddenly he rushed forward, embraced him tightly, buried his face in his shoulder, and sobbed.

“Minsheng!” Emperor Bai stammered incoherently, “I thought… I thought you were dead.”

Tianfu Guard returned the embrace. After a long while, he gently let go and said solemnly, “Your Majesty, this subject is not the Tianfu Guard of this era. I have come from the future, through the Taoyuan stone gate.”

They exchanged their accounts and learned that the Tianfu Guard of this timeline had died in the Ming Sea not long ago. This era’s Emperor Bai had endured countless perils to arrive at this place. Hearing his story, Emperor Bai was astonished to learn of Taoyuan stones’ power. In the end, Tianfu Guard said gravely:

“Come with me, Your Majesty. I will help you find a Penglai like Peach Source, where snow melts and ice thaws.”