As soon as they entered the mountain, the snow grew heavier.
An old paper umbrella cut through the winter wind, resting above Yu Yu’s head, brushing away the white snow for him.
Before he looked up, a tall figure came into view, and a cold, crisp scent of pinewood hit his nose.
“You’re Yu Yu?” the newcomer asked.
“That’s me.” Yu Yu looked up to face the man, only then noticing that his brows and eyes were gentle, and when he looked at him, the corners of his eyes carried a smile, his whole demeanor radiating a sense of warmth.
“It seems I didn’t mistake you. I am Chu Qing, the sect master of Kuangyu Mountain, and at the same time, you should address me as Master.”
Yu Yu bowed in salute: “Master.”
Chu Qing handed the umbrella to Yu Yu, then continued: “Kuangyu Mountain has no formal apprenticeship ceremony, and I don’t need you to serve me tea as a disciple. You’ve already received your disciple token from Shang Nan. From now on, you are the one thousand three hundred and twenty-first disciple of Kuangyu Mountain.”
Can the mountain really hold that many people? Yu Yu’s thoughts drifted off in a strange direction as he reached out to take the disciple token from Chu Qing.
With the matter settled, Chu Qing smiled and raised his hand with a wave.
A gust of wind and snow swept past Yu Yu’s eyes, obscuring his vision. When he opened his eyes again, both Chu Qing and Shang Nan had vanished, leaving only an echo drifting through the air.
“I still have important matters with your senior brother Shang Nan. Since you’ve entered, go up the mountain on your own and look around. With that disciple token, there will be no restrictions on Kuangyu Mountain.”
Yu Yu stood in the snow until everything around him fell silent again, only then did his figure stir slightly, but merely to warm himself. He didn’t know the way.
But that was fine; someone would come to fetch him.
Yu Yu tried to hang the disciple token at his waist, but with the umbrella in hand, it was awkward. After several failed attempts to tie it one-handed, frustration began to build. Just as he was about to set the paper umbrella down, a hand took it from him and held it back over his head. Yu Yu instinctively looked up, pausing in the middle of tying the token.
“Didn’t you leave?” Yu Yu’s tone was calm.
“You knew I’d come back.”
Cheng Xi tilted his chin toward the token, signaling Yu Yu to keep tying. Yu Yu didn’t waste time; in a few quick motions, the token hung securely at his waist.
Yu Yu reached out to take the umbrella back, but then thought of the heavy snow at the moment, Cheng Xi likely had no second one, so he could only walk alongside him. He lowered his raised hand.
Yu Yu stood up straight and said to Cheng Xi, “Let’s go.”
The paper umbrella hovered above Yu Yu’s head as the two walked side by side up the mountain. Yu Yu stared at the path ahead and probed, “You’re still alive.”
Cheng Xi had lost his earlier aloofness: “Yeah, surprised?”
Yu Yu smiled casually, deliberately adopting a light tone: “Not surprised. I knew you wouldn’t die.”
“That’s nice, whether someone will die, whether someone gets to live, you can always figure it out.” Cheng Xi, like him, kept his eyes on the road beneath his feet, not sparing a single glance elsewhere.
“Aren’t you the same? Why only call me out?”
Cheng Xi fell silent again. The snow today was truly too heavy; the two figures had only walked a short while in the snow before both were dusted with the storm.
Cheng Xi was a bit taller than Yu Yu. Though he wore no heavy cloak, the exposed half of his shoulder was soaked through, while Yu Yu, in contrast, only had a few fine snowflakes scattered on the hem of his robes.
For a long time, the two walked in silence, until Cheng Xi finally spoke again: “You know full well that I’m not like you.”
Yu Yu took a deep breath, wanting to explain further, but in the end, he simply said, “So, I will face retribution.” The goose-feather snow blanketing the branches trembled once more at these clear words.
Yu Yu recalled his youth, when he had walked out of that resplendent palace, perhaps the wheel of fate had already begun to turn from that moment onward.
Cheng Xi, upon hearing this, his expression hidden in the hazy white snow, finally let out a scoff from deep in his chest: “Couldn’t be better.”
Yu Yu ignored the mockery in Cheng Xi’s words. Beneath Cheng Xi’s umbrella, they continued to walk side by side, one with a frail silhouette, the other with a straight spine, slowly advancing through the snow.
By later, the snow had lessened considerably. Within half an hour, they arrived at the entrance of a dwelling, apparently having reached the mountainside.
Yu Yu and Cheng Xi walked together under the courtyard gate, and Yu Yu was the first to raise his hand and knock.
A few thuds echoed, but there was no sound from within the dwelling.
Yu Yu didn’t intend to knock again, standing aside to wait for Cheng Xi.
Cheng Xi closed his umbrella behind him, brushed the snow off his clothes, glanced at Yu Yu, then stood before the door, murmured something with his hand pressed against it, and with a flick of two fingers, the door swung open with a whoosh.
So it was Cheng Xi’s courtyard. Yu Yu felt no embarrassment over his earlier actions, taking the lead to enter and waiting under the eaves for him to hold the umbrella.
The courtyard wasn’t large, but there was still some distance to the dwelling.
As it turned out, Cheng Xi, showing no courtesy, tossed the umbrella aside and slammed the door shut with a bang.
Now there was no choice but to brave the snow.
Yu Yu stood under the eaves, surveying the courtyard, and asked him, “Where do I stay?”
This was clearly a disciple’s residence, definitely ShanYi Courtyard.
Cheng Xi pointed him in a direction. Yu Yu raised his hand to shield his forehead, dashed over, and at the door, patted off the lingering snow on his clothes.
Yu Yu pushed the door open. It wasn’t as worn as he’d imagined, everything was spotless, the bedding freshly changed, not a speck of dust on the table, and a newly lit charcoal fire in the room. Yu Yu drew near the brazier to warm his palms.
Cheng Xi followed behind him, opening the window facing the courtyard to let the room air out, then came to Yu Yu’s side, also warming himself by the fire.
Yu Yu removed his heavy cloak, rubbing his hands together as he moved closer. Cheng Xi went over to make his bed, then placed the bundle he’d brought into the wardrobe. After arranging everything, he prepared to leave.
Yu Yu watched Cheng Xi’s retreating figure, followed him to the door, and couldn’t hold back, blurting out: “Your Highness, I have my reasons.”
Yu Yu wanted Cheng Xi to know that these three years hadn’t been kind to him; he wanted Cheng Xi to forgive him, even if the hope was slim.
Cheng Xi had already retrieved a new umbrella from inside, standing in the white snow as he looked at Yu Yu indifferently: “Did your reasons have to climb over my bones to rise?”
With that, he stared at the mole beside Yu Yu’s lips and retorted, “I let you step on me too, didn’t I?”
“But your failure to ascend is your own fault.”
A flash of purple light flickered before Yu Yu’s eyes as Cheng Xi walked toward another dwelling in the snowy veil.
Yu Yu remained rooted in place, the urge to die on the spot burning in his heart.
Perhaps only death could bring release and atonement. After all, he hadn’t wanted to be this divine official in the first place.
The Divine Official is born with mortal fate, able from birth to foresee all matters and grasp the fortunes of the mortal world, yet inevitably must journey through the mortal realm, awaiting ascension.
None of this was something Yu Yu could choose.