Chapter 157: Young Master, Please Wait

Upon hearing Zhou Qing’s question, Cao Linliang was taken aback at first. Then he asked, “Friend Zhou, are you heading to Mount Beique?”

“That’s right, I am indeed headed to Mount Beique,” Zhou Qing replied. Noticing the tone in the other man’s voice, he asked in puzzlement, “Could it be that you don’t know where that mountain lies, Brother Cao?”

“I know, but that area is now a forbidden zone of the Great Tang. Fifty years ago, the land for several hundred miles around that mountain became utterly desolate, devoid of life.”

“A forbidden zone? Is there something evil or monstrous within?”

“That I am not too sure about. Most of my soldiers come from the north, and from what they say, there is a ridge near Mount Beique called Kunlun Ridge. If anyone crosses into the ridge, there is no chance whatsoever of coming back out alive.”

Listening to Cao Linliang’s words, Zhou Qing felt a wavering in his heart. He had originally planned to walk the same path his grandmaster had taken years ago at Mount Beique, but now it seemed that some great evil or monstrous being must indeed dwell there.

Cao Linliang finished speaking and saw Zhou Qing deep in thought, paying him no mind. So he added, “Friend Zhou, if you truly wish to go to Mount Beique, let me accompany you. My cultivation may not match yours, but I am more familiar with the terrain.”

“It’s not as if I absolutely must go. I appreciate your kind offer, Brother Cao,” Zhou Qing replied with a smile. “Since it is a forbidden zone, I shall forgo this journey. I won’t linger further—farewell, Brother Cao.”

He raised his hand in a courteous gesture and turned to walk down the mountain path. The bald-headed monk who had accompanied him watched Zhou Qing’s receding figure in silence for a moment, then mounted his horse and returned to the barracks.

“What kind of man was my grandmaster, truly?”

All along the road, Zhou Qing pondered the matter. He had never met his grandmaster, Tian Yizi, but after hearing Cao Linliang’s account, his curiosity grew ever stronger.

In Zhou Qing’s mind, his grandmaster had always been a man of great attainment. The magical artifact “Phantasm Unmatched” that he had inherited had repeatedly proven itself extraordinary during these two years of wandering. And then there was the Heaven’s Thunder Talisman—one thunder spell had terrified a mysterious demon deep in the Wildman Woods. This alone was proof of his grandmaster’s prowess.

There were also the many travel notes in the “Miscellaneous Records of Wandering,” penned by his grandmaster’s own hand, further testifying to his greatness.

But until now, all of this had existed only in Zhou Qing’s own mind. So, no matter how exceptional his grandmaster might have been, the feeling had never struck him deeply.

Yet now things were different. For the first time, Zhou Qing had heard someone else speak of his grandmaster’s deeds. Naturally, this stirred his heart and sparked a greater fascination for the ancestor he had never met.

Though he had never seen his grandmaster, Zhou Qing was, after all, Tian Yizi’s rightful heir. It was only natural for him to feel a measure of admiration.

As he walked along the road through the night, lost in thought, dawn gradually broke. Zhou Qing emerged from a grove of jujube trees and saw several corpses lying on a dirt slope by the roadside.

In these war-torn lands, dead bodies were a common sight. Zhou Qing paid them little heed and continued walking with his hands clasped behind his back. After a short distance, he heard a commotion from behind.

He turned and saw two figures at the spot he had just passed. They tidied up one of the corpses and then, carrying certain parts, slipped into a small grove behind the slope.

“What are they doing?” Zhou Qing wondered, curiosity piqued. He followed the two men into the woods.

After threading his way through the trees for a while, he arrived at the foot of a small hill. There, nestled beside a stream, was a cave. A campfire burned by the water’s edge.

The two men, who had fetched the corpse, were now squatting by the stream, washing the parts they had taken. After a moment, one of them entered the cave and brought out a round wooden board and a kitchen knife, setting them down by the stream.

The other placed the parts they had retrieved onto the wooden board, chopped some of them into pieces, and threw them into a black iron pot over the fire.

Witnessing this scene, Zhou Qing felt a surge of compassion. He wanted to help the two men, but after some thought, he refrained.

Though Zhou Qing was not fabulously rich, his two years of wandering had left him with a fair sum, for he had spent little. Yet of what use was money here? In such times, silver couldn’t buy rice, and when war descended, it was always the common people who suffered.

He was about to leave, having observed the pair by the stream, when he turned and nearly collided with two little girls, about ten years old.

The girls looked nearly identical—twins, it seemed. Each held a handful of bright wildflowers, their faces alight with smiles.

“Big brother, who are you?” one of the girls called out to Zhou Qing.

At her cry, the people by the stream hurried over.

The two adults were a couple in their thirties. The husband, clutching the kitchen knife, rushed over and eyed Zhou Qing warily, holding the blade tightly.

The wife, upon seeing the girls, beckoned them to her side and took them firmly by the hand.

“Greetings, brother and sister-in-law,” Zhou Qing said with a smile and nodded to the couple. He had intended to slip away quietly, but meeting the girls made that impossible.

“Who are you? Why are you following us?” the husband demanded. Clearly, he had noticed Zhou Qing on the roadside earlier but hadn’t expected to be followed here.

“I am but a traveler passing through. By coincidence, I encountered you and followed out of curiosity. I had thought to leave quietly, but unexpectedly, I ran into your daughters.”

Every word Zhou Qing spoke was true, but the man remained wary. In such chaotic times, it was hard to trust any stranger.

“Passing through? Are you a merchant, or a scout for the army?” the man pressed, still gripping the knife.

“I am neither merchant nor soldier, merely a wayfarer,” Zhou Qing replied calmly. He bowed to the couple and said, “Forgive me for disturbing you,” then turned to leave.

Seeing Zhou Qing’s courteous manner, the man lowered his knife and glanced at his wife. The two exchanged a look, and then the man hurried after Zhou Qing, calling out,

“You there, young man in red—please wait!”