Chapter 61: Resting in the Earth

In the vast courtyard, flickering firelight cast long, uncertain shadows. Shen Wan fixed his gaze upon the figure seated cross-legged atop the lotus pedestal, his hand tightening instinctively around the hilt of his blade.

The figure was diminutive and slightly hunched, his bald skull adorned with two elongated, pointed ears sprouting from either side of his head. A long nose, small eyes, and a wisp of white beard pooled on his lap. His pale grey robe was riddled with holes, threadbare and timeworn.

Shen Wan scrutinized him closely. The being looked almost human, yet not quite; if he had to put a name to it, he resembled nothing so much as an oversized rat.

A lump caught in Shen Wan’s throat. He swallowed hard, unsure whether the creature was dead or alive. Fortunately, the lotus pedestal hovered only a short distance above the ground. Raising his black blade, Shen Wan cautiously prodded the edge of the platform with its tip.

The pedestal rocked gently, but the figure remained utterly still, betraying no sign of life. Shen Wan frowned, prodding several more times, yet there was no reaction.

Composing himself, Shen Wan stepped forward, drawing closer for a better look. The figure was emaciated, his shriveled frame sheathed in little more than a layer of skin. Deep wrinkles gathered upon his face; his eyes were hollow, and only two or three teeth remained in his mouth. It was immediately apparent he had been dead for many years; now, he was little more than a desiccated corpse.

Shen Wan exhaled deeply, but a chill lingered in his heart. Though he was relieved it was not the living dead, the presence of a corpse seated in such a posture was still deeply unsettling.

“He must be the owner of this humble abode, I suppose?” Shen Wan mused. Clasping his hands together, he offered a hurried, clumsy bow. “Forgive me, sir! I stumbled in here by mistake, just looking for an exit. I meant no offense. Please, don’t hold it against a humble soul like myself—my nerves can’t take a fright.”

He nodded several times in succession, bowing awkwardly, the gesture far from orthodox. Only when he had finished his silent entreaty did Shen Wan feel slightly reassured. He averted his gaze from the corpse, turning instead to survey the space behind the water reservoir.

The front of the reservoir was lush with vegetation, yet behind it there was not a single leaf in sight. Though the dimness rendered everything hazy, it was still plain that there was a large empty space beyond.

“I wonder if there’s a way out back there,” Shen Wan muttered, stroking his bare chin. He began to skirt around the edge of the pool.

Sure enough, behind the reservoir lay a stretch of open ground—neither large nor small, but tall, with a pill furnace as high as a man squatting at its center. On either side, over a dozen wooden shelves stood in neat rows.

Shen Wan could tell at once this was a pill furnace; it looked much like those in television dramas—ugly and battered, yet unmistakable in form.

He paid the furnace no further mind, instead moving toward the edge of the chamber to feel his way along the rock wall, searching for a possible exit.

His hand brushed one of the wooden shelves, which gave a creak as if it would collapse with the slightest force. He quickly withdrew his hand.

These shelves hugged the rock wall, and atop them sat a great many small bottles of various sizes, none of them particularly refined. Shen Wan picked one up at random, pulled out the stopper, and was immediately greeted by a potent medicinal fragrance.

“My god, are these all pills?” Shen Wan exclaimed, realization dawning on him.

Scanning the shelves once more, he saw that among the dozen or so racks, there must have been hundreds of such bottles. And beyond bottles, several shelves housed an assortment of other items—felt mats, scrolls, wooden chests. The place resembled a storeroom more than anything.

Shen Wan smacked his lips. He could not discern the value of any of these items; had Gu Zhiping been here, the man would probably have been beside himself with glee.

Just picturing the greedy look on that fellow’s face made Shen Wan want to kick him. Little did he know, Gu Zhiping and Yun Yi were even now making their way back to the ancient tree at the edge of the cliff, intent on finding Shen Wan. Gu Zhiping was convinced Shen Wan had stumbled upon another opportunity—after all, for the past two times, wherever this man went, fortune seemed to follow. He was, in essence, a living magnet for luck.

Yun Yi had her own reasons. Without Shen Wan, she never would have gained the ancient secret art of the Celestial Ascension Technique. Now, with Shen Wan still somewhere in the cave, his fate uncertain, she could not in good conscience simply leave. She had no wish to be remembered as someone ungrateful.

And so, with their respective motives, the two once again activated the mechanism hidden within the ancient tree.

Meanwhile, Shen Wan continued his search for an exit. Feeling his way along the shelves, he finally discovered a passage at the very back of the cave.

“Ha! My fate is not yet sealed—great things await me!” The words seemed to spring from nowhere, but they filled Shen Wan with exhilaration.

The despair he had felt beneath the clouded lake still haunted him, a lingering dread. Though he thought himself neither especially lucky nor particularly doomed, the prospect of being thrust into peril time and again was hardly appealing. If he were always consigned to desperate straits, he might as well make company with the old man on the lotus pedestal and perish right here.

But with a way out now before him, Shen Wan hesitated no longer and prepared to step forward.

Yet just as he lifted his foot, he set it back down.

Shen Wan prided himself on being a man who repaid kindness. Whether by chance or destiny, it was through this man’s door that he had found a chance at survival. The old man, of course, could never have imagined that, even in death, he would forge such a connection with a wandering youth.

After a moment’s thought, Shen Wan decided to turn back.

“Who knows how many years this man has sat here alone? Let me, at least, lay his loneliness to rest.”

A flush of pride rose in Shen Wan’s chest as he returned to the water reservoir. Casting a glance at the old man on the lotus pedestal, he began to search the chamber. Beside a wooden shelf, he found an iron pestle; it was not very long, but sharp and handy.

Testing its weight, he found it light enough for easy use. Satisfied, Shen Wan made his way back to the courtyard where the dense vegetation grew. Here, the ground was soil, hardened over the years but far easier to dig than stone.

He found a suitable spot and set to work, hacking away at the roots and stems. After considerable effort, he had finally excavated a shallow pit—just deep enough, he thought, for the old man’s small frame.

Dusting off his hands, he fetched a small wooden chest from inside the house, emptied it of its random contents, and brought it to the poolside once more.

The lotus pedestal hovered low; with a step and a boost, Shen Wan climbed atop it.

But as soon as he did, the pedestal lurched beneath him, as if its mysterious buoyancy had suddenly vanished, and it dropped toward the water. Startled, Shen Wan gripped the edge tightly as the pedestal splashed down, the impact lessened by the water’s resistance. After a few sways, it steadied.

He exhaled in relief and looked at the old man—the mummified corpse, with its rodent-like features, remained perfectly still, mercifully not tumbling into the pool.

“Good heavens, what an ugly fellow,” Shen Wan muttered, tilting his head and keeping his face at a cautious distance. Nevertheless, he scooped the corpse into his arms. It was small, desiccated, and astonishingly light. With one hand, he paddled at the water, steering the pedestal to the pool’s edge.

Landing on solid ground again, Shen Wan placed the old man’s remains in the wooden chest. It was a tight fit, but with some maneuvering, he managed to squeeze the corpse inside.

He lowered the chest into the pit he had dug and began shoveling earth atop it. Soon, a modest mound rose from the ground.

He had no idea what the old man’s name had been. Finding a piece of wood, Shen Wan carved into it with his blade: “Grave of a Benefactor?” Satisfied, he planted the marker at the foot of the mound.

It looked reasonably presentable. Wiping the dirt from his hands, Shen Wan murmured, “Who knows how many years you lingered here? Today, fate has made us companions. Let me see you laid to rest. May you find peace in the earth and ascend swiftly to the heavens.”

He pressed his palms together and bowed again and again. With the rites complete, a sense of peace settled over him at last.

His gaze fell upon the racks of bottles and jars. The old man was buried, but would it not be a waste to leave his possessions behind, gathering dust?

“Hmm…”

After weighing the matter, Shen Wan gritted his teeth. Driven—well, not by greed, but by the noble desire to see the old man’s accomplishments benefit the world—he resolved to take everything with him.

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he dashed back inside, searching the house and yard for several tarps, layering them together. Clapping the dust from his hands, he began his grand sweep.