Chương 405: A Glimpse (V)

Long Tao lazily nibbled away at some fruit, ignoring the man staring at him. From the moment he showed up, all he wanted to do was slice the man's head off--no, first question him on how his heart became such a rotten amalgamation of death and decay, and then slice his head off. However, he simply stayed unmoving. There was no way his Master wasn't aware of it, and seeing as the man took the young girl away, he likely first wanted to confer with her for some reason.

Long Tao had long since stopped trying to guess his Master's intentions and simply chose to trust the man. If he wanted to keep the gaudy thing sitting across from him alive, who was Long Tao to protest?

"What do you think of my daughter?" the man suddenly asked.

"Isn't she beautiful?"

"Is she? I hadn't noticed." The man's expression darkened momentarily, but Long Tao really was being honest. When was the last time he found the shallow beauty in anyone noticeable? It had been... well, quite a few lifetimes. Outward beauty, especially for cultivators, was such a transient thing; anyone and everyone could be beautiful and be beautiful for such a long time that the memory of them not being 'beautiful' would fade. At that level, what was most beautiful was never what was visible.

The young girl, truly, may have been beautiful, but her heart was a kindled fire of anger and rage, almost at a level of Wan Lan's.

"R-right. Well, I think she is," he said.

"And rather talented--far more than me. Sometimes I wonder where she gets it from." As for that, he wasn't wrong; though faint and distinctly distant, the girl did hold the trace of Royal Flames, one of the most ancient types of flames to exist. However minute the trace was, it was still there--for these parts, she may even be treated as a Heavenly Chosen. However, on a grander scale, she was far less talented than any of the kids, and the chances of her becoming an Empress were... well, slim, at best.

That trace, for however much it emboldened her, also limited her. Traits of any of the Holy Beasts were so self-preserving that they disallowed anything from interfering, even if there was only a small amount of them within a person.

"As my Master says," Long Tao said.

"All comes from Dao."

"Indeed, all comes from Dao," the man repeated, taking a sip of some drink. The awkward silence resumed as he no longer tried to engage with Long Tao, likely realizing that the latter had less than no interest in engaging back. As such, the two stewed for a good while before Master and the young girl returned. There was a slight change about her, but Long Tao ignored it. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"Yun'er," the man quickly stood up, eyeing the two.

"Have you and Master Lu had a productive talk?"

"We indeed did, Father," the girl said.

"If you are alright with it, I shall accompany him to Phoenix Realm."

"A-ah, of course, of course! Come you two; let us feast upon this joyous occasion!" The festivities, if they could be called such, began--before long, there was even a group performance just outside the gazebo and over the pond. Singing, dancing, a fire show... despite that, the odd atmosphere could not be completely hidden.

"Thank you, Master Lu." They soon stood back at the entrance, being escorted out just before nightfall.

"I shall deliver the agreed-upon payment as soon as possible. When should Yun'er join you?"

"Tomorrow, if it's convenient," Master said.

"It will give her a chance to meet the other kids."

"Of course, of course. Yun'er, say thank you to Master Lu."

"Thank you, Master Lu. I will be in your care."

"Hm." Long Tao always found it funny when his Master played the role of the sagacious and exalted sort; it was such a distant persona from who the man truly was that the dichotomy between the two made for some great comedy. The two began walking back, though not alone--there was a shadow of four or five people all tailing them, but Long Tao paid them no heed.

"What did you two talk about?" he asked.

"You mean to say you hadn't eavesdropped?"

"No," Long Tao said. Which begged the question... why didn't he?

"I really didn't."

"Huh. That's new."

"Indeed it is."

"... we just... talked. She's... lived through a lot."

"I wholly expected you to give me the signal," Long Tao said. Before his Master left with the girl, he did communicate one simple thing: if he gave him the signal, he was to kill the man immediately, no matter what.

"I did, too," his Master said.

"But... she told me not to."

"Oh? Despite what he is like?"

"I'm not certain she knows the whole truth," his Master said, sighing.

"Besides, he is sending her away. However much weight that carries."

"What if he has another child?"

"..." Long Tao could see his Master's conviction wavering.

"Are you suggesting we kill him, regardless?"

"I'm merely saying that some broken things can never be fixed," Long Tao said.

"They will continue to wreak havoc for as long as they aren't completely shattered."

"... ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Had he never tried to listen to the last of humanity in him, we would have never known," his Master said, looking over at him.

"And we would have left the city, none the wiser. And yet, because he had looked to spare her, now we are wrestling with the thought of his fate. One act of kindness in an otherwise abhorrent life may be the thing that dooms him."... Long Tao stayed silent, not having considered it. But his Master was right. Often, evil remained silent and enshadowed, deeply rooted beyond the sights of others, until it tried to redeem itself. That very act, however, brought it to light--and often doomed it.

"I hadn't considered it," Long Tao said.

"... can we do it without her finding out?" Long Tao could hear how difficult those words were to say.

"Yes," he replied.

"Light can leave him with an implant that will slowly suck away at his vitality until there is none left. It will appear as though he died a relatively natural death."

"... hm." It was all but a confirmation as the two fell silent, tracing back the path toward their inn. His Master had changed, however subtly it appeared so on the surface. Even a year ago, he would have never agreed to it, for one reason or another. Especially not when he suggested Light be the one to do it. Slowly, bit by bit, he was beginning to understand--the world would never conform to him and his views, no matter how hard he tried.

The world had worn him down enough for him to know the moments he could fight it, desperate to sail against the currents, and when to simply… accept it. As it could not be changed, no matter what.