Volume One: Youthful Encounters in Humble Times Chapter Thirteen: Even Alone, One Must Live Well

The Daoist had originally been watching the Mountain God battle with them, but when the Mountain God began drawing the earth’s vital energy, he sensed danger. After leaving a protective barrier for Li Yu, he turned and departed, soon arriving at Li Yu’s home.

It turned out that extracting vital energy not only robbed the land within a hundred miles of its vitality, but also drained the life force of all living things sustained by that land.

While the Mountain God was drawing energy, the Daoist heard the land’s urgent cries for help. Without hesitation, he returned to Li Yu’s home.

With a wave of his hand, the Daoist sealed off the little courtyard and the surrounding area of the Earth Temple, ensuring that not a wisp of earth’s essence leaked away.

The Earth Spirit hurriedly manifested, bowing in gratitude. “Thank you, Immortal Master, for saving us. I am deeply grateful.”

The Daoist merely replied, “No need.”

He glanced once more toward Red Spring Mountain, murmuring, “The three of them can’t hold out much longer. It’s nearly over.”

Then he turned and entered Li Yu’s home, standing before the old woman’s bed.

With a single glance, he could see that Li Yu’s grandmother’s life flame was nearly extinguished. After a few silent thoughts, he sighed, “So be it. Let her stay a little longer, give the child a chance to say farewell.”

With that, he raised his hand and grasped at the air. A wisp of white energy appeared in his palm, which he then sent into the old woman’s body.

His task complete, the Daoist vanished, leaving only his voice in the old woman’s ear, “I have given you a little more time. Take this chance to say goodbye to the child.”

Though her eyes remained closed, the old woman was keenly aware that if not for the Daoist’s intervention, the powerful force just now would have snatched away her last thread of life. In her heart, she offered a sincere and silent thank you to the immortal, “Thank you for your help.”

With the Daoist’s white energy, her mind grew clearer. She slowly recalled how, after the great disaster, Li Yu had stayed by her side, never abandoning her, caring for her with all his strength. Those days had been hard, but to her, they were not unbearable; the only one who truly suffered was Li Yu.

Thinking of this, her heart ached for the child, yet she was grateful to the heavens for letting her spend her final years with a child so filial, who brought her joy and happiness.

But what about the future? What would happen to him? He was still so young; how would he survive?

Her life had seen its share of regrets and grievances, but now, all had faded. The only thing she could not let go of was Li Yu, her one and only.

When Li Yu and his companions at last staggered home, he did as he always did, bowing respectfully at the Earth Spirit’s shrine and praying, “Thank you, Earth Lord, for watching over my grandmother.” Then he took the flatbread and the water he’d left on the altar that morning.

The three companions, seeing this, felt a pang in their hearts, for they knew his grandmother had only tonight left.

Li Yu stepped inside first, immediately sensing the difference in the air.

Lu Ming and the others did not go in but found places to rest outside. For Li Yu, these were the last moments with his grandmother.

Carrying the bread and water, Li Yu went to the bedside, suppressing his grief as he gently called her.

“Grandma, Grandma, I’m back. Wake up and have something to eat.”

Slowly, the old woman opened her eyes. The cloudiness receded, and she looked at the child before her, a slow smile spreading across her face as she reached out to touch Li Yu’s head.

Li Yu, able to see the flow of yin and yang, immediately noticed that the yin energy around his grandmother had solidified, while her yang energy was now as faint as a firefly’s glow. This, he knew, was the final resurgence before death.

He had long known this day would come, so he had finished all he needed to do beforehand, that he might accompany his grandmother on her final journey without regrets.

With this thought, he fought back his tears, forcing a smile as he said, “Grandma, eat a little something. You’ll feel better after. We still have to travel together, remember!”

She shook her head, trying to speak, but her voice was dry from silence. “Ah... ah... Grandma, Grandma, I won’t eat.”

Li Yu quickly offered her the water. She drank a little, rested, and when she spoke again, her voice was less strained.

“Xiao Yu, you’re a good child. My life has been full of hardship and sorrow, but the heavens were not unkind. In these final years, I was blessed to meet you.”

The words had barely left her lips when Li Yu’s tears fell uncontrollably.

“Grandma, it was my good fortune to meet you. You gave me warmth and love I’d never known.”

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, looking at him with worry. “You’re such a good child. Grandma is leaving soon—how can I be at peace?”

“What will you do when you’re hungry? What if you fall ill? What if someone bullies you?”

Li Yu had intended to answer differently, but wanting her to rest easy, he held back his grief, tears still falling, and choked out, “I’ll be fine. If I’m hungry, I’ll pick wild fruit. If I’m ill, I’ll dig for herbs. If someone bullies me, I’ll fight back. I won’t let anyone bully me again.”

Outside, Lu Ming and the others listened to the exchange. Even with their hardened hearts, their eyes grew red, and Shui Linglong’s tears brimmed in her eyes.

Among the three, only Lu Ming’s life was at all similar to Li Yu’s, though even his was far better; only he could truly empathize. Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong had never known such deep familial warmth.

Hearing Li Yu’s words, the old woman finally felt at ease. She had always known that Li Yu was no ordinary child; as long as he wished to live, life—even if hard—was still precious.

“Then I can rest easy. You must live well, live bravely. No matter what you do or where you go, Grandma will always be with you.”

Sobbing, Li Yu promised, “Don’t worry, Grandma. I will live well.”

Perhaps because her worries had at last been set down, her spirit began to fade. Her eyes, gazing into the distance, curved into a satisfied smile. She softly asked, “Do you remember the wish you once told Grandma?”

Li Yu quickly replied, “I remember, I remember.”

“Then tell Grandma one more time. Smile as you do.”

Though he wanted to weep, he forced a smile through his tears, saying, “I said, I’d buy you a mountain, plant it full of peach trees you love, raise many little birds so each would have their own home. The river would be full of beautiful fish, all free and happy, swimming wherever they wish...”

Ordinary people could not see, but those who cultivated—and Li Yu—could. From the old woman’s body drifted a ball of white light, rising skyward. That light seemed to smile at Li Yu, and a familiar voice echoed in his heart, “You must live well.”

He watched as the light rose ever higher, fading into the sky. He knew then that his grandmother was truly gone.

Li Yu’s voice grew faint, his sobs stilled, and he sat slumped at the bedside, lost in thought.

Outside, the three gazed at the white light in the sky, listened to her last words, and felt a deep ache. Each, swallowing their sorrow, silently began to recite prayers for her soul.

The Daoist saw all this; even his placid heart was stirred. Though he had seen many storms, after witnessing the bond between Li Yu and his grandmother, he could not help but be moved.

One was like a spring breeze, bringing vitality to an old woman’s withered life; the other, like winter sunlight, warming Li Yu’s suffering with gentle love.

Li Yu sat in a daze, staring at his grandmother, his eyes empty, devoid of spirit.

No one knew how long passed before Lu Ming entered, standing behind him, his tone cold but firm, “Do you intend to sit like this forever?”

Li Yu made no reply.

Lu Ming continued, “Have you forgotten what your grandmother said before she died? Didn’t you promise her you would live well?”

At this, perhaps recalling his promise, a spark returned to Li Yu’s eyes. He did not move, but the emptiness had faded.

Sensing the change, Lu Ming relaxed a little. “No matter how sad you are, your grandmother is gone. That cannot change. What you must do now is lay her to rest, so she can leave in peace.”

At these words, Li Yu revived. Yes, he still had to send her on her way; he could not let her go like this.

He steadied himself on the bed, struggling to stand. Lu Ming tried to help, but Li Yu gently pushed his hand aside. “Thank you, Brother Lu. I can do this myself. It’s my duty.”

From under the bed, Li Yu took a comb, and as he gently combed his grandmother’s hair, he spoke softly, “Grandma always loved cleanliness. When she was well, she’d gather flowers to steep in water for washing her hair, saying it would leave a faint fragrance.”

“After I came to live with her, she’d comb my hair before school every day. She said that whether boy or girl, one should be neat and tidy. Even if we had no money for fine clothes, we should keep ourselves clean. But now, I have no flowers, nor water, only a tidy combing.”

When he finished, Li Yu somehow produced a small silver flower, tucking it above her ear.

He went on, “I bought this little flower with money I saved from selling wild fruit, catching fish for the villagers, and copying books for the teacher. It was meant as a birthday gift for Grandma, but now, now...”

His words trailed off; there was nothing more to say.

When all was done, Li Yu fetched a set of clothes. Lu Ming noticed that though not new, they were very clean.

Li Yu explained, “I had no money for new clothes. These I washed and hid away when the disaster began, afraid she would go without something clean. I’m glad I did.”

He forced a bitter smile. “Grandma’s life was so hard. If I can send her off like this, it’s the best I can do.”

Lu Ming offered comfort, “She’ll be very comforted by this. What matters most is not the clean clothes, but your care for her.”

Once his grandmother was dressed, Lu Ming asked, “Where will you bury her?”

Li Yu replied, “I don’t plan to bury her.”

Lu Ming was surprised, “What?”

Li Yu explained, “Grandma said she didn’t want to be buried underground, to suffer the loneliness and the worms. When the day came, she wanted to be cremated.”

A mix of sorrow and longing appeared on his face. “And I don’t want her under the earth, either.”

Lu Ming didn’t understand and was about to ask more when Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong entered.

“Brother Lu, the spiritual energy is fluctuating wildly outside. By tomorrow, the concealment array will fail. By tomorrow night at the latest, the Illusion Demon and Mountain Demon will succeed.”

Lu Ming understood. They had to leave soon and report this in time to prevent greater casualties and disaster.

He nodded, “Understood. I’ll help him see to his grandmother’s passing, then we’ll leave.”

Li Yu heard and was grateful. “Thank you, Brother Lu.”

Lu Ming smiled, unconcerned.

Soon, a pyre was built in the yard. After Lu Ming helped place the old woman upon it, Lie Yankong used his power to form a torch, handing it to Li Yu. “Send her off.”

Li Yu took it silently, lit incense from the last he’d brought from town, and planted it in the ground. He scattered paper money to the sky, stood quietly to imprint her face in his memory, then stepped forward. As the torch touched the wood, flames leapt up. Li Yu knelt, whispering, “Grandma, walk slowly. Wait for me on the road.”

Only then did the others realize how prepared he had been, knowing this day would come.

When Li Yu spoke those words, all three heard him. Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong thought it was mere grief, but to Lu Ming, it meant something else. “It seems he’s resolved to follow her.”

Under the dark night sky, the world was silent. Only the little courtyard glowed with firelight, like a lone lantern in endless darkness—so fragile, like a leaf on the sea, unable to withstand any wind or rain, snuffed out in an instant.

It was all so helpless, and so very sad.