Did You Choose the Right One

There was no argument, nor any lengthy discussion.

Li Junzi simply noticed the look in Lin Luoyu's eyes, and all the thoughts swirling in her mind scattered like mist.

At this moment, she felt somewhat at a loss.

Li Junzi spoke as if evading the subject:

"Let's eat first."

Lin Luoyu's expression seemed to hold back words, but in the end, she too fell silent.

Li Junzi didn’t ask why, and Lin Luoyu didn’t explain why.

At this moment, silence seemed to be the best answer.

The meal passed quietly, though perhaps the hearts of the two were not so tranquil.

Days went on as usual, that moment seeming like an illusion, a fleeting bubble.

Li Junzi didn’t press further about why Lin Luoyu had said she no longer wanted to study, nor did she comment on Lin Luoyu’s choice, as if leaving all decisions in her hands.

She neither expressed sorrow nor urged Lin Luoyu to continue pursuing Confucian studies.

Only, the time Li Junzi spent staring blankly at the trees grew a little longer.

Lin Luoyu also stopped mentioning it, returning to her routine—studying, attending lectures, debating theories at the academy.

That declaration of giving up seemed nothing more than a passing jest.

Both seemed to revert to their original states, as if the words spoken had been taken back.

Time, at times, cannot move those who wish to stay rooted in place.

No one knew how long this drawn-out, wearisome period lasted.

Until news reached Lin Family Gully—the Immortal Sect’s Recruitment Assembly in Yuzhou City, endorsed by the Demon Suppression Bureau and Zen Forest Temple of Xuanwu Kingdom.

Anyone meeting the age requirements could try their luck.

Zen Forest Temple wasn’t well-known in Lin Family Gully, but who in Xuanwu Kingdom hadn’t heard of the Demon Suppression Bureau?

Though the name of the sect itself wasn’t disclosed, this was the first time the Xuanwu Kingdom’s authorities had vouched for such an event. Compared to the dubious reputations of other sects, this one in Yuzhou City seemed particularly exceptional.

Moreover, this was the closest chance most would ever get to an immortal’s favor. Many had longed for such an opportunity but never had the means.

The entire Lin Family Gully buzzed with excitement.

Naturally, this wind of news blew into the small courtyard shared by Li Junzi and Lin Luoyu.

Yet here, the wind seemed to die down—neither of them brought it up.

At lunchtime,

Li Junzi held her bowl, her gaze resting on Lin Luoyu, who was eating in silence:

"Can you tell me what happened that day?"

Lin Luoyu looked up, surprised—this was the first time Li Junzi had spoken during a meal.

Li Junzi set her bowl down gently, her eyes still on Lin Luoyu:

"Even a teacher can say the wrong thing sometimes. Must you hold onto it forever?"

"No," Lin Luoyu shook her head softly.

Li Junzi smiled faintly, assuming the posture of a listener:

"Then talk to me."

Lin Luoyu put down her chopsticks, pressed her lips together, and spoke in a quiet voice:

"Because I realized that studying takes me too far from what I truly want. It’s not that studying is bad—I understand that becoming a Great Confucian is no weaker than an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator."

"I also know that as a Sage-Second, blessed by the world’s literary energy and guarded by human destiny, even a Tribulation Transcension cultivator wouldn’t dare act against me. A Nascent Soul cultivator would retreat at the sight of a Sage-Second."

"But even if I wrote works recognized by heaven and earth, ordinary mortals would never have the chance to read them. Principles won’t take root in every heart."

"What’s more, in this world, cultivators don’t abide by principles—they cultivate only themselves."

"Even as a Sage-Second, in the eyes of cultivators, I’d be nothing more than a handful of dust after two hundred years."

"A Sage-Second might be etched into mortal history, but never into a cultivator’s heart."

"Principles can’t reach cultivators, yet they are the ones who should uphold them most."

"On my way back, I met a cultivator. He said he had once studied too, and seeing me—so young yet already at the Enlightened Principle stage—my theories had given him sudden clarity. So he wished to exchange thoughts with me."

"He was only at the Brush-Holding stage now. To reach it, he had read a hundred thousand volumes."

"But after attaining Brush-Holding, his path as a Confucian scholar stalled completely."

"He once traveled far and wide for the Scroll-Expanding stage. He witnessed demonic cultivators conducting sacrifices, powerless to stop them. He saw cultivators clash, with mortals caught in the crossfire."

"The more he saw, the more he felt that studying seemed meaningless."

"Because principles shouldn’t only apply to the weak."

"That day, on my way back, I wondered—even if I became a Sage-Second, what could I do? Yet it seemed I could do nothing."

"The whole way home, I kept thinking about it. Only when I arrived did I vaguely realize—"

"It’s not that studying is wrong. It’s the world that makes studying wrong."

"So at that moment, I thought—since everyone says cultivation is the true path, then I’ll try cultivation first."

"After I’ve cultivated, I’ll use the means of cultivation to speak the principles I wish to uphold."

"But I suppose that’s just wishful thinking. I might not even have spiritual roots, and things might not turn out as I hope."

Li Junzi listened quietly, then asked:

"And what do you think now?"

Lin Luoyu lowered her voice: "I should continue studying."

"Is it for the principles, or for me?" Li Junzi pressed.

Lin Luoyu hesitated before answering: "In the end, one studies for oneself."

Li Junzi chuckled lightly, standing to pat Lin Luoyu’s head:

"You’re right. So if you want to go, then go. Your teacher supports you."

"But Teacher—" Lin Luoyu tried to speak, but Li Junzi shook her head gently.

Li Junzi teased, "Now that you’ve found a path you wish to walk, it’s time for me to read the books I must read."

Lin Luoyu’s words caught in her throat.

Li Junzi stood, retrieving a letter from the bookshelf and placing it before Lin Luoyu.

"This sect is farther away, but I have some connections there. Whether you choose Yuzhou City or the sect in this letter, go and do what you wish."

Lin Luoyu’s nose stung—she couldn’t bear to part with Li Junzi even more now.

Li Junzi ruffled her hair:

"Growing up, yet still crying like a child—your eyes are turning red."

"Teacher’s lying," Lin Luoyu buried her face.

Li Junzi hugged her gently: "I’m not. The first time I saw you, you were crying—and it was an ugly cry."

"If you don’t wish to become a Sage-Second, then your teacher will achieve it instead. Lin Luoyu only needs to be Lin Luoyu."

Li Junzi patted her back softly.

Lin Luoyu didn’t know how to respond.

Li Junzi released her, studying her expression before walking to the desk. She picked up a brush and a sheet of paper.

She wanted to write.

Lin Luoyu had stepped onto the Confucian path with a breeze—so now, she should be sent off with one as well.

Li Junzi steadied her breath, focusing her spirit as she raised the brush. Yet the first character, "Qing" (breeze), stumped her. No matter how hard she tried, she could only manage three dots.

No one knew what Li Junzi had been thinking during those moments staring at the trees—perhaps not even she herself knew.

But the heart does not lie.

Once a Confucian scholar nearing the Great Confucian stage, Li Junzi now couldn’t even write "breeze"—something even a Brush-Holding scholar could manage.

Or perhaps, at this moment, she was no longer even at the Brush-Holding stage.

Yet Li Junzi felt no sorrow. It only meant that this time, once again, she had chosen correctly.

To stay was one choice, to let her go was another.

If one couldn’t write of the gentle breeze, then one need not write at all.

Li Junzi raised his brush and swept it across the paper, writing two bold characters—Haoran (Vast and Righteous).

She gazed at the words and smiled faintly, reaching out to pick up the seemingly ordinary sheet of paper.

"All that this teacher can give you, I have already given. Now, all I can offer are these two words."

Lin Luoyu looked up.

On the xuan paper in Li Junzi’s hand, the characters Haoran flowed with an effortless grace.

"May your heart be free of worries, vast and unburdened."

On that day, a Confucian scholar found himself unable to wield his brush, while one who sought enlightenment stepped onto the path of immortality.

Lin Luoyu asked Li Junzi if he would remain in Lin Family Gully.

Li Junzi replied—"Perhaps I will stay and continue reading. Or perhaps I will go to Gentleman Mountain and continue reading there."

That same day, dressed in simple clothes and carrying a worn-out bag, Lin Luoyu set off on the road to Yuzhou City.

Li Junzi had long run out of money, so all Lin Luoyu could take with her were a few tattered garments and the sheet of paper bearing her teacher’s words—Haoran.

Even a Great Confucian needed to eat, let alone Lin Luoyu, who had only just reached the Mingli (Enlightenment) stage.

So, she traveled, earning and saving money along the way, making her journey to Yuzhou City.

Even for someone at the Mingli stage, making money was no easy feat.

Lin Luoyu had always considered herself fortunate—during the hardest times of her childhood, she had met Li Junzi, and when she wished to cultivate immortality, she smoothly entered a sect in Yuzhou City.

There, she also gained a kind master, as well as senior brothers and sisters—and a somewhat unreliable junior brother.

The world outside was nothing like Lin Family Gully. It was dazzling and vast, and cultivators were far different from Confucian scholars.

During this time, Lin Luoyu also came to understand that even the most profound books, written by the most brilliant minds, could still contain errors.

The purest and kindest principles could not sway the hearts of the truly wicked.

The chaos of the Xuanwu Kingdom shook her worldview again and again.

Yet, setting aside the books and viewing the world from a new perspective also held its own fascination.

Her stern senior sister who called her foolish, her somewhat intimidating second senior brother, her prodigious third senior sister—and Cui Hao.

For a time, Lin Luoyu seemed to blend seamlessly into their world.

She even began doing reckless things—but she was truly happy.

She would send letters back to her teacher in Lin Family Gully, but no reply ever came.

Until a letter arrived, written on behalf of the village.

What she feared was not the people of Lin Family Gully, nor was it them that made her hesitate.

The letter spoke of demonic disturbances, but she had already inquired with the Demon Suppression Bureau.

So, this letter…

Her hesitation about returning stemmed from fear.

Fear that Li Junzi was no longer in Lin Family Gully—but even greater fear that he still was.

Yet, in the end, she would return regardless. Her hesitation could only be described as—the apprehension of homecoming.

She had expected to face it all alone.

But she never imagined Cui Hao would stubbornly insist on accompanying her.

The reason Lin Luoyu didn’t refuse him was simple—if Li Junzi was still there, she wanted him to see that she hadn’t lied. She truly was doing well.

When Lin Luoyu pushed open the familiar door and saw her teacher again,

her first glance brought an overwhelming sense of warmth. All her earlier hesitation suddenly felt foolish.

She had come the very day she received the letter, rather than delaying for three or four days.

Li Junzi looked even more worn than before, his once-streaked hair now half-white.

Her teacher had not been faring well in her absence.

Yet, when it came to asking, Lin Luoyu found herself at a loss for words. She didn’t want to offer empty pleasantries.

Perhaps influenced by the unreliable Cui Hao along the way, she even found herself clasping her hands in greeting and asking:

"Has the teacher been well?"

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them—they sounded far too formal.

To her surprise, Li Junzi mirrored her gesture and even asked who Cui Hao was.

Flustered, Lin Luoyu answered instinctively. When Li Junzi moved to brew tea, she instinctively stepped forward to take over—she had often done so in the past.

But her teacher stopped her. "You are a guest now. It would not do to have a guest prepare tea."

Lin Luoyu did not know how to respond.