Li Xingtian led the two treasures of Zen Forest Temple up to the second floor of Yuelai Tavern and found his master.
"Apologies for being late, Master," Li Xingtian said with a slightly helpless expression.
"No matter. As long as you're safe," Chu Xingchen replied with a gentle nod, his gaze shifting to Yuan Jing, whom Li Xingtian had found. It became clear why Li Xingtian had stayed behind to help.
At this moment, Yuan Jing was truly at the end of his rope. Once a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage, the spiritual energy fluctuations within him were now even weaker than those of the solemn-faced Yuan Kong beside him.
His long, whitened beard, devoid of all vitality, clung dry and disheveled to his face.
Yuan Jing's sallow complexion was accentuated by his deeply sunken eyes.
In such a state, the "Tenfold Replenishment Pills" Chu Xingchen had refined might offer some relief—but considering the side effects of his elixirs...
He feared the abbot might not withstand them.
Yuan Kong supported Yuan Jing as the three took their seats.
Yuan Jing forced a smile onto his withered face and spoke in a voice devoid of elasticity, hoarse and strained:
"We trouble you again, Benefactor. This debt grows heavier with each passing day."
"Abbot, you underestimate me. Must you alone care for the world? Can I not do the same?" Chu Xingchen personally poured tea for Yuan Jing and continued,
"Last time we met, your condition was already precarious. Some matters need not be handled personally."
Yuan Jing clasped the teacup before him, his face softening into a gentle smile as he looked at Chu Xingchen.
He chuckled and said, "I was never long for this world. A few more days of life matter less than a few more deeds."
"Though this old monk misjudged you—I once thought you somewhat... mercenary."
Chu Xingchen remained expressionless as he interjected, "The abbot saw correctly. I am a worldly man, always mercenary."
"If the Benefactor says so, then so be it." Yuan Jing nodded with a smile, then grew slightly solemn. "However, the incident in Chizhou is no mere natural disaster..."
Chu Xingchen lightly tapped the cover of an ancient tome before him and replied,
"I know of this matter. What comes next has nothing to do with the abbot. You and Yuan Kong should return to Zen Forest Temple."
Yuan Jing's eyes flickered with surprise as he noticed the title on the tome—Commentary on the Waterways.
Understanding dawned, and he nodded quietly, swallowing the words he had meant to say.
He wanted to ask Chu Xingchen to do his utmost but felt such a request was improper.
Some words, once spoken, become burdens, and one should not impose their hopes upon others.
Even if Chu Xingchen might not mind, Yuan Jing minded for himself.
After a moment, Yuan Jing said, "Then I wish the Benefactor smooth sailing. This old monk will await your return for tea at Zen Forest Temple."
"I will come." Chu Xingchen nodded lightly, then turned to Li Xingtian. "Xingtian, escort the abbot and Yuan Kong back to Zen Forest Temple."
Yuan Jing shook his head. "No need for such trouble. I can return on my own..."
He might believe those words, but Yuan Kong certainly didn’t.
"Senior Brother, are you serious?" Yuan Kong exclaimed urgently. "Your legs were trembling earlier!"
Yuan Jing shot a weary glance at the towering Yuan Kong—despite knowing the soul within that youthful, brawny body was but a few years old.
Some things were just exasperating.
With a sigh, Yuan Jing said, "I never said I’d walk back. At my age, am I not allowed to take a carriage?"
"Oh..."
Chu Xingchen watched as Yuan Kong helped Yuan Jing slowly descend the stairs, suppressing the urge to comment.
At least no major mishaps had occurred.
Turning to Li Xingtian, Chu Xingchen asked,
"What state was Yuan Jing in when you found him?"
Li Xingtian sighed. "He was trying to persuade villagers downstream of the dam to evacuate. But no one would abandon their entire livelihood on the word of a mud-covered, half-dead mad monk."
Chu Xingchen nodded. "How did he finally convince them?"
"If Master had relied on him, you’d still be waiting days for my return," Li Xingtian said wryly. "I threatened them—move or die by my hand."
"After that, we cleared a few villages and returned."
Chu Xingchen could easily picture it: his second disciple, aura blazing, gripping a skull-carved greatsword, roaring—Move or die.
Suppressing a chuckle, he said, "You’ve worked hard."
Li Xingtian studied his master, then voiced his doubts:
"If we’ve found the abbot, why linger? What are you planning, Master?"
"To catch a big fish—one unlike any we’ve seen before." Chu Xingchen took a sip of tea, then suddenly asked, "Do you know how to trace water veins?"
Li Xingtian blinked. His cultivation wasn’t water-aligned—why would he study such a thing?
He shook his head. "No."
Chu Xingchen slid Commentary on the Waterways toward him and said gravely,
"Then you must learn. Time is short."
Li Xingtian stared at the book, then at his master’s expectant gaze.
Well... the master’s word was law.
He flipped open the first page. Beyond the table of contents...
Was this even written in common script? He couldn’t make sense of it.
Two days later, in the inn.
Li Xingtian scowled at Commentary on the Waterways.
He’d spent every waking moment studying it, and it was undoubtedly the most baffling thing he’d ever encountered.
The agony of reading lay in this: you think you grasp it, but when your deductions clash with the actual conclusions, doubt creeps in—Do I really understand?
When you restart with fresh eyes, only to arrive at the same dead end...
A single thought dominated Li Xingtian’s mind: Forget it.
He wasn’t ill-read—most of his learning had come after stepping onto the path of cultivation.
With firsthand experience in the arts, even obscure techniques shared common threads, making them easier to grasp.
But this? An entirely foreign discipline.
Without prior experience, he was lost.
Especially with his master’s warning—Time is short.
Li Xingtian slammed the book shut and declared solemnly,
"Master, I won’t master this in time..."
Chu Xingchen paused mid-sip of tea, eyeing his disciple.
Li Xingtian pressed on, earnest: "Summon Eldest Senior Sister!"
A book like this? Only a genius like her could decipher it.
And she was a water-aligned cultivator, after all.