The Way Out

Chapter 22: The Way Out

Inside the alchemy hall of Qingfeng Temple, Li Huowang stood frozen, completely drenched in his master’s blood. He hadn’t yet processed what had happened. These three pills were that powerful? What the hell were Danyangzi and I making—pills or explosives?

He lay on the ground for a long moment before getting up, wiping his face with his hand, and bending down to pick through the debris.

After searching for a while without finding a single moving piece of flesh—and noticing that even Danyangzi’s copper bell had been blasted flat—Li Huowang finally let out a breath. Danyangzi was truly dead. He had finished him off for good.

“But he’s dead… so what do I do now?”

Li Huowang stood there, momentarily unsure which way to go.

He had thought that once he avenged himself, he would feel happy. But when the moment actually came, he found himself lost in confusion.

All his plans over these past days had revolved around killing Danyangzi. He had never even considered that he might survive.

Now Danyangzi was dead. Bai Lingmiao was safe. He had done everything he promised. So what was he supposed to do next?

Just as he was pondering this question, the door to the alchemy hall suddenly swung open. Changren and Changming entered cautiously, single-handed swords raised.

After scanning the room and finding no sign of Danyangzi, they turned their wary gazes toward the blood-soaked Li Huowang. “Hey! What kind of demon are you? Speak! Where is our master?”

“Master? You’re stepping on him. Also, it’s me—Xuan Yang. Greetings, fellow brothers.”

Hearing this, Changren and Changming instinctively looked down and lifted their feet. Some internal organs lay exposed before them. Their pupils contracted to pinpricks.

Li Huowang looked around, then picked up half of Danyangzi’s face from the ground. “See? He’s really dead.”

“I killed him,” Li Huowang said to them, as if talking to himself.

“By all rights, the man was a murderer his whole life. He deserved to die long ago. But that’s not why I killed him. I killed him for personal reasons.”

Just as Li Huowang was about to explain his motives to the two men, Changming and Changren exchanged a glance. Without another word, they swiftly sheathed their swords and turned to bolt out the door.

“Hey! Wait for me to finish before you run!” Li Huowang called after them helplessly.

After shouting with no response, he let out a bitter laugh. Clutching his still-aching stomach, he walked toward the doorway.

“The scabby-head is dead! He’s dead! Everyone come out! You can all go home!” Li Huowang shook the flattened copper bell with all his might, shouting into the surroundings.

It was the first day of the New Year. The jarring bell sound didn’t summon any Wandering Lords—it summoned the boy apprentices and the human ingredients instead.

When they saw the half-face in Li Huowang’s hand, they were overjoyed. Many collapsed to the ground, kowtowing in every direction.

Li Huowang walked slowly through the cave tunnels, making sure that every person in Qingfeng Temple heard the news.

More and more people joined his procession, shouting along with him: “The scabby-head is dead! He’s dead! We can go home!”

Just then, Li Huowang felt someone reach out to support him. He turned and saw Bai Lingmiao, crying tears of joy.

He smiled at her and raised Danyangzi’s half-face, waving it vigorously. “The scabby-head is dead! You can all go home! It’s New Year’s! You can all go home!”

“Yes! Brother Li! You can go home too! We can all go home!”

Li Huowang’s expression stiffened for a moment. Then he continued ringing the bell with all his strength, shouting at the top of his lungs: “Danyangzi is dead! Everyone come out! You can all go home!”

But not everyone in Qingfeng Temple was so happy. As Li Huowang approached Danyangzi’s living quarters, he heard the clash of metal from afar.

Leading his group closer, he found Xuan Yuan locked in a standoff with Changming and Changren inside Danyangzi’s filthy dwelling. Both sides had weapons drawn, the atmosphere extremely tense.

Li Huowang looked at the so-called Heavenly Scripture—wrapped in black-threaded copper coins—and understood instantly what they were fighting over.

“Junior brother Xuan Yang! Come quickly! Let’s kill these two accomplices of Danyangzi together! We’ll share the Heavenly Scripture of Immortality!” Xuan Yuan urged, his once-friendly face now devoid of warmth.

Changming stepped forward, planting his foot as he pointed his sword at Li Huowang by the door. “If you don’t want to die, get lost! The master taught you alchemy! Do you really think you can handle the two of us—sword cultivators—in a fight like this?”

Li Huowang sighed, looking helplessly at the scene before him. “That’s not a Heavenly Scripture of Immortality at all. It’s just an ancient text. Everything I said before was made up to fool the scabby-head.”

“Don’t believe his bullshit. That man was full of lies—said Lord Lao himself gave it to him. With his character, he probably killed someone and stole it. Let’s go, fellow brothers.”

Changming and Changren pinched two black talismans between their fingers and wiped them along their blades. In an instant, the room was filled with a chilling, ghostly wind.

“Junior brother Xuan Yang, if you don’t want to get involved, then stop wasting words. Leave.”

The two spoke in unison, raising their swords.

Feeling Bai Lingmiao timidly tugging at his Daoist robe, Li Huowang cupped his hands toward both parties. “Then I’ll leave you to it, fellow brothers. Until we meet again.”

As he carefully closed the door behind him, the sounds of fighting resumed inside.

In the dark tunnel, a group of people walked with excited, trembling steps—their oil lamps shaking in their hands. They were going home.

The tunnel was unfamiliar and rugged, requiring ropes to climb at several points. Li Huowang had never been here before in his memory.

But he knew with certainty that this was the exit to Qingfeng Temple. He could tell because he saw the hands of those around him shaking even harder.

After walking for roughly two incense-sticks’ worth of time, light began to appear in the distance at the end of the cave tunnel. The moment they saw it, everyone’s pace became erratic. Walking turned into running.

As they ran, the distant light grew larger and larger, until finally it swallowed everyone’s field of vision.

The moment they burst out of the cave mouth, nearly everyone squinted. Having lived inside for so long, the outside world was far too bright for them.

As their eyes gradually adjusted to the light, the scenery outside Qingfeng Temple unfolded before them.

The sky in the distance had just begun to show the pale white of dawn. The distant mountains, the distant forests—everything was pure enough to lift the spirits, like a light ink-wash painting.

And at that moment, the first rays of sunlight on New Year’s Day pierced through the thin mist, falling upon everyone’s faces.

Li Huowang squinted at the sunrise, muttering to himself, “I spent the whole night in the alchemy hall with the scabby-head? The sun’s already up. Beautiful weather today.”

Suddenly, someone beside him moved. It was a boy apprentice, his face streaked with tears, his legs pumping as he buried his head and rushed toward a small path disappearing into the woods.

His flight created a herd effect. More and more people started running in that direction, desperate to get as far away from this place of sorrow as possible.

Within moments, only seven or eight people from the ingredient house remained at the cave entrance. Their eyes were all on Li Huowang.

“Brother Li, let’s go too,” Bai Lingmiao said, tears still on her cheeks but smiling brightly now.

“Wait a moment,” Li Huowang said, pulling some slips of paper from his pocket and pressing them into Bai Lingmiao’s hands. “These are the final words and addresses left by the dead ingredients. When you get out, find an escort agency along the way to send them.”

Bai Lingmiao held the papers in both hands, frozen in place, unsure what to do for a moment.

Li Huowang smiled once more at the remaining people. Picking up his oil lamp, he turned around and walked alone into the pitch-black darkness of Qingfeng Temple.