Chapter 108: Speculation

Xu Boqing strolled along the streets of Xingyuan Prefecture’s capital, his expression shadowed with unease. The old fisherman he had glimpsed just moments ago on the river—though merely a fleeting, illusory figure—served to confirm some of his suspicions in an indirect way.

After learning the basic structure of this realm from Zhu Sisi, he had become increasingly puzzled by its strange worldview.

Mortals and true immortals coexisting in one realm...

There were blessed lands and paradisiacal caves, yet no supreme heavenly court;

There were city gods and underworld officials, but no netherworld or hell.

When he inquired whether this realm had a heavenly court or an underworld, he unwittingly entangled himself in a great karmic consequence!

His Celestial Sight seemed to have taken his soul on a celestial journey, revealing many forbidden visions and even snuffing out the fire of his pure Yang body.

Had Zhu Sisi not been nearby to snap him back to consciousness upon sensing something amiss, the karmic burden alone might have sent his spirit drifting beyond the heavens, leading to his demise.

Later, when he saw the “Immortal’s Instruction Painting” at the Five Poisons Sect and touched it, the painting was burned to ashes; when he visited the shrine of the river god’s toad spirit along the riverbank and offered respect, the statue shattered, costing him nearly half his life.

These incidents made him realize that his identity must possess some special, imperceptible quality.

Then, upon discovering the toad spirit’s water god talisman—which showed an unusual affinity toward him—and nearly losing his life while worshipping the toad deity’s statue at the river god’s shrine, he grew even more certain.

Finally, when he transmitted the teachings to Zhao Xuanlang yesterday, he sensed the faint rumblings of heavenly wrath. Coupled with the words of the old fisherman, he was nearly convinced.

Just as he and Ao Lan had described before, it was like the difference between one bowl of water and two bowls of water.

This realm must once have possessed a heavenly court and underworld—an established order—but something had happened that overturned this “order.”

This explained the chaotic collapse of the immortal palace, the prison-like sealing of heaven and earth.

Without order, the multiple “bowls of water” had again mixed together, creating this world that appeared normal yet was subtly distorted.

Humans, gods, demons, ghosts, immortals—all manner of strange beings mingled, yet maintained a bizarre equilibrium.

But he was not a native of this realm, yet had received its fortune and bound himself to its great karmic fate. What then was his true position?

Was he a variable within this balance?

Why was he targeted when transmitting teachings?

Who was that old fisherman?

Did he, a contemporary true immortal seeking immortality and ancestry, intend to maintain the current balance of this world?

Or was he a remnant of some deep and cunning history?

Xu Boqing rubbed his throbbing brow. His speculations were just that—speculations. With shallow cultivation and limited insight, much remained hidden beneath the surface, beyond his grasp.

But no matter what, he would not allow anyone to manipulate him like a puppet, dictating his every move. That he refused!

He drew a letter from his robes, examined the address, and asked a passerby for directions before heading westward.

The letter had come from the steward who had introduced a friend during the raid on Hongyang.

According to the steward, this friend surnamed Lu had once possessed a handwritten manuscript by Zhang Taixu titled “Dialectical Discourse.”

The book contained profound truths he was eager to explore.

When Xu Boqing arrived at the Lu estate, the gates were firmly shut. A great locust tree spread its dense canopy over the courtyard, but a strange aura of gloom lingered about.

He knocked lightly. Soon, a young gate attendant peered through a crack in the door.

Seeing an unfamiliar face, the boy asked warily, “This is the Lu estate. Whom do you seek?”

Xu Boqing smiled faintly. “May I ask if Master Lu Zhengye, the steward, is at home?”

The old gatekeeper nodded and asked, “Are you here for the master?”

“Yes.”

Xu Boqing flicked a small silver coin through the crack, landing in the boy’s palm, then handed over the letter. “Please deliver this to your master. It’s from an old friend in Hongyang.”

The boy’s eyes brightened at the silver. Swallowing nervously, he nodded eagerly, clutching the letter as he dashed inside without even closing the door, calling out, “Master! Master! You have a letter!”

Xu Boqing smiled and glanced through the crack again, noting the thick, ancient locust tree shrouded in dark energy, his brow furrowing.

Inside the Lu estate, Lu Zhengye sat worriedly by his son’s sickbed, while his wife fed the boy medicinal broth.

He had only one son, whom he hoped would inherit the family legacy. But in recent years, the boy’s health had steadily declined.

Lately, the illness had worsened, leaving the son skeletal and frail.

They had consulted every doctor and healer in Xingyuan Prefecture, but no cause was found, driving Lu Zhengye to despair.

Just then, the gate attendant burst in, shouting, “You brat! Quiet down! Don’t you see the young master is still ill?”

“But there’s a letter for you…”

The boy shrank back, knowing his master’s normally kind nature turned stern only regarding his son’s matters.

Lu Zhengye, though troubled, waved him off impatiently. “Go, go. The letter can wait. Do not disturb the young master’s rest.”

“Master, please take a look…”

The boy pouted. “The messenger seemed extraordinary, and he said the letter is from your old friend in Hongyang…”

“An extraordinary messenger? An old friend from Hongyang?”

Lu Zhengye’s heart stirred. Knowing the boy had grown up in the household and had sharp eyes, he took the letter and opened it.

When he confirmed it was truly from his old friend, he nodded lightly. But as he read further, his eyes widened, nearly gasping for breath.

“Quick! Quick! Important guest! Important guest!”

He hurried outside.

Opening the door, he beheld a figure clad in a moon-white robe, the fine fabric clearly of palace origin.

He immediately knelt, shouting, “I, Lu Zhengye, pay respects to the Overseer.”

The gate attendant, witnessing this, was dumbstruck, feeling the small silver coin in his pocket suddenly weigh a thousandfold.

“Please, Mr. Lu, no need for such formality…”

Xu Boqing, surprised by the man’s fearful reaction, quickly helped him to his feet with a smile. “I come on private business. Please forgive the disturbance.”

“Not at all…”

Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Lu Zhengye forced a smile. “Your arrival brings honor to this humble abode. Please, come in.”

He stepped aside to lead the way.

“Thank you…”

Xu Boqing nodded slightly. Glancing once more at the great locust tree, he followed Lu Zhengye into the main hall.

After whispering a few words to the gate attendant, Lu Zhengye poured tea and said, “Please be patient, Overseer. I have sent for Zhang Taixu’s original manuscript.”

“No rush.”