Chapter Thirty-Seven: I Don't Know

The old beggar clutched his chest, blood continuously seeping from the wound, and he felt his body growing colder with every passing moment. Shi Qi gazed at him without emotion, her right hand still holding the ice sword that was lodged in his chest.

She gripped the sword tighter and slowly moved closer, driving the blade another inch deeper. The pain in the beggar's chest intensified, and as Shi Qi approached, he slumped to the ground.

“Little... little friend, spare my life...”

Shi Qi remained expressionless and silent. Once the beggar had collapsed, she released the sword and slowly raised her hand into the air.

"Drawing boundaries... Ice..."

Instantly, a blue sphere of ice enveloped both Shi Qi and the old beggar. Su Xiaomu frowned; from outside, she could only see a giant ice sphere, unable to discern anything happening within.

Suddenly, Su Xiaomu cried out, then quickly covered her mouth. She saw a streak of red appear inside the crystalline blue-white sphere, as if someone had splashed red paint within. In the blink of an eye, more red spread, growing increasingly intense until the entire sphere was nearly stained blood-red.

Inside the ice sphere, Shi Qi wielded two ice blades, hacking furiously at the beggar. With each stroke, blood sprayed onto the walls of the sphere. She continued her frenzied assault, her whole body now stained red, even her eyes.

The beggar was long dead, but Shi Qi vented her rage relentlessly, slicing again and again. Only after a stick of incense's time did she finally stop.

The ice sphere dissipated, and Shi Qi emerged, dressed in pristine white robes, spotless. There was nothing left inside the sphere. Su Xiaomu felt as if she had just awakened from a nightmare.

“Big... big brother...” Su Xiaomu murmured.

Shi Qi walked over, his face breaking into a trademark sunny smile. He patted Su Xiaomu's head and said, “Come, let's return the elders home.”

He packed all the tea stall's belongings into his magical pouch, then gently lifted the two old people, one in each arm, and walked down the nearby path.

Su Xiaomu followed closely, without hesitation.

Shi Qi carried the elders, his face devoid of emotion, lost in thought. He could barely recall what had just happened. He remembered his overwhelming rage, then losing consciousness and control of his body. A vague memory lingered—he had hacked at the beggar's body with ice blades, then at the corpse, again and again, until the beggar was reduced to dust.

Only then did he regain his senses, finding himself drenched in blood, the entire sphere stained red. His wings had vanished at some point. He retched, summoned water to cleanse himself, changed into fresh clothes, dispelled the icy prison, and stepped out.

What had just happened to him? Was it his innate demonic nature? He did not know...

Shi Qi walked step by step along the mountain path, slowly calming himself. Life among ordinary folk had taught him the warmth and coldness of humanity. He had always sought only self-preservation, never harming others. Even after being brought to the island by Master Egret, he had devoted himself to cultivation.

Shi Qi knew he was neither particularly kind nor upright, certainly not a saint, but neither was he a villain. He had witnessed suffering, families torn apart, but none of that had shaken his heart.

Yet, when someone lost their life because of him, he wavered. For a moment, he wondered: what is life?

When a person's life can be dictated at any moment by another, is it still life?

Strength brings protection, but above strength, there is always greater strength. What, then, is the purpose?

Shi Qi suddenly felt lost. Why pursue cultivation? For longevity? To escape mortal suffering, to live forever? But these are only the most basic goals. Once achieved, one seeks higher realms or greater power. Cultivation is about improving one's realm and one's strength. Strength is purely for survival. And realm? Pure realm lets one be desireless.

He did not know...

“Big brother... big brother!”

Shi Qi was deep in thought when a voice called out to him.

Su Xiaomu had followed close behind, seeing Shi Qi frown in silence, his gaze unfocused, and called out to him.

Shi Qi snapped back to reality, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. His mind had nearly lost its balance.

He realized he had thought too much. He was always a spontaneous person; there was no need to seek philosophical answers—just be true to oneself.

He had almost slipped into the mindset of a pure cultivator.

He remembered Master Egret's teachings: many cultivators, in the process of cultivation, slip into the mindset of pure cultivators, becoming one themselves.

Pure cultivators are desireless, thoughtless, like stones. During the great battle between the righteous and the demonic sects, pure cultivators from both sides offered no resistance, sitting quietly as enemies of far lower realms severed their heads.

Shi Qi had asked Master Egret, “Why do people become pure cultivators?”

Master Egret smiled, “I asked the same question long ago. I was told: pure cultivators are always those whose hearts are unstable. They claim to have seen through everything, to have no desires, not even caring about life itself. But if one loses life, what use is a transcendent mind? Buddhism speaks of karmic obstacles, similar to Daoist heart demons. In my view, there are several types of pure cultivators. Some are those whose hearts are dead, immersed in their true selves, viewing the world with indifference. Others are too clever, their cultivation lagging behind their understanding, lost in the pursuit of tranquility, seeing everything around them as mere grass and wood. And some have seen through life and death, unafraid of either, having found their own answers, and everything else becomes trivial.”

He continued, “I then asked, what do pure cultivators think about? And I was told: you should ask them yourself, but those who know the answer have no interest in responding. Anyone who will answer you is not a pure cultivator.”

Master Egret gazed at the sky and murmured, “Finally, I asked, how can I avoid becoming a pure cultivator during my own cultivation?”

Shi Qi nodded, “Master, I want to know, too.”

Master Egret turned to him, “If you fear becoming a pure cultivator, you will not become one, because you have fear. Fear of death is normal. The day you neither seek life nor fear death, that is when you lose yourself.”

Shi Qi, as a child, scratched his head in confusion.

Master Egret patted his head with a smile, “You little clever thing, no one fears death more than you.”

Shi Qi grinned, “Master, who was 'he'?”

Master Egret did not answer, gazing quietly at the sea for a long time before murmuring, “Yes, who was he... Is he well...”

-----

“Big brother, are you alright?” Su Xiaomu called again.

Shi Qi shook off his memories and smiled at her, “If I did have something wrong, you’d be free to eat everything yourself!”

Su Xiaomu saw him joking and knew he was fine. She stuck out her tongue and made a face at him, unaware of the turmoil that had just passed through his heart.

The two walked along the mountain path.

There was no need for maps or directions; the ruts in the earth formed by the cart wheels provided a clear guide.

The two elders had spent years setting out their stall, pulling a cart for an hour each day. Though they were now gone, the marks in the mountain earth were their legacy.

Over the hill, Shi Qi and Su Xiaomu arrived at a small village, only a few dozen households. Shi Qi stood at the entrance, gazing at the humble village with a sigh.

He followed the cart tracks to a small tile-roofed house and knocked on the door.

After a moment, the door opened, and a girl of about seven or eight peeked out. She wore a simple cloth dress, rough but clean.

Shi Qi asked, “Little one, are your parents home?”

She shook her head, “They’ve gone to the fields. Eh? Grandpa and grandma?”

Seeing the elders in Shi Qi’s arms, she asked, “What’s happened to them?”

Su Xiaomu lowered her head, saying nothing.

Shi Qi replied, “Grandpa and grandma are asleep now. Don’t wake them.”

The girl put her finger to her lips and whispered, “Yuer knows. Yuer is the best, I won’t wake grandpa and grandma.”

Shi Qi entered, laid the elders on the bed, and looked around at the modest but tidy room, feeling a pang in his heart.

He took out paper and pen from his magical pouch and wrote a letter: “Today, I, Shi, drank tea at the elders’ stall, was pursued by an enemy. My skills were lacking; though I slew my foe, I failed to save the two elders. I feel deep regret, and now return their bodies. Please accept my condolences. I cannot restore their lives, only leave some money in apology...”

He paused, then looked at the girl, “Yuer, can you read?”

Yuer beamed, “I can! My parents sent me to school!”

Shi Qi glanced at Su Xiaomu, who immediately understood. She took out the ‘Fundamental Principle Manual’ and handed it to Shi Qi, “I finished reading it, but kept forgetting to return it.”

Shi Qi smiled at Su Xiaomu and handed the manual to Yuer, “Yuer, here’s a book for you. Study it well.”

Yuer took the manual and smiled, “Thank you, big brother.”

Shi Qi nodded and continued writing.