Seeing nothing more to do, Huxian continued walking. He walked for a few hours, and in that time, the sun doubled in size. The horizon now seemed like a precipice, an obstacle he could pass before seeing the sun in all its fullness instead of the tease the red half sun had been all this time.
Soon enough, Huxian saw what appeared to be a small black spike in the distance. No, not a spike. It was moving. He ran over toward the object and quickly realized that it wasn’t an object but a person. A man. The miniature man grew larger and larger until Huxian could finally make out a set of tattered gray robes that barely hung to his body.
Despite his damaged robes, the man seemed hale and hearty. His skin was a lustrous bronze, and his hair was well kept. It was tied in a familiar scholarly style.
It’s him! Huxian realized. He trotted over to the man, who looked over and smiled.
“Huxian, Monarch of Light and Darkness,” the man said, bowing deeply. “It is good to see you again. You have my thanks for watching over me all those years ago.”
All those years ago? Huxian wondered. It had been nothing more than a few hours. Still, the more he looked at the man, the more he realized that it wasn’t just his skin that had changed. The man seemed closer to forty years in age, and his cultivation realm had increased. The meridians that had burned away and the qi pools that had been destroyed had somehow regrown. What’s more, they had undergone a revolutionary transformation: The man’s qi weaved throughout his body like lines of light. He’d also reached the peak of foundation establishment. His foundation burned hot like the blazing sun up ahead. The burning qi coursed through his body, tempering it with each circulation. He’d somehow reached the peak of bone forging as well.
Scholar Yang, it seems I was mistaken, Huxian said. Your path has taken you far. You’ve recovered from your initial trauma, and your cultivation has improved by leaps and bounds. It is good that you ignored my warning.
The man smiled wistfully but shook his head. “No, I should have heeded your words. That day, I nearly died. I would have died had it not been for divine intervention.”
Divine intervention? Huxian asked. A god came down to bless and heal you? Such cases weren’t exactly common, but they weren’t unheard of either.
“Less a god and more a demon,” Scholar Yang said. “He told me the path I walked was forbidden, and that I should give up on it.”
Which you clearly did not, Huxian pointed out.
“That is correct, I did not,” Scholar Yang said. “Therefore, the mighty demon both blessed and cursed me. ‘I will grant you the power and the truth you seek,’ he said, ‘but the journey will be endless and ephemeral. It will be a journey walked for others, and the end will be your demise.’ The moment he spoke these words, the power of the sun coursed through my veins. I knew that I could easily take his blessing and leave, but my folly continued.” He shook his head. “Though I’m not obligated to keep going, my curiosity will not let me stop.”
“Do you wish to have some company?” Huxian asked, curious to see what happened to the man as he walked.
The man shook his head. “My progress is slow, and I dare not hold you back. Perhaps it would be best if you visited again when I’ve made sufficient progress.”
“Very well,” Huxian said. “If we’re fated, we’ll certainly meet again.”
The man bowed, and Huxian continued.
The sun grew larger as Huxian ran. Every hour, it doubled in size, straining the limits of his perception. Its scorching powers doubled alongside it, and to Huxian’s surprise, it both burned and protected him. The sun was not there to punish, but to teach. It burned a lesson into his flesh as it seared his soul.
Ten times, a hundred times. The more it grew, the more Huxian could make out infinitesimal details in the sun’s brightness. Before, it all seemed a uniformly bright spot on the horizon, but now he could see roiling flames and seething, swirling pools of bright plasma. Darker spots appeared on the sun that should have been too blinding to perceive. It resembled less the single light in the sky at day and more the moon in a dimly lit sky, with sunken craters and rigid scars marring its imperfect surface.
And in front of that sun, in front of all this detail, sat a lonely figure. His clothes had finally burned away, as had his bronzed skin. His hair, which had been neatly tied all this time, was ash white. It crumbled to dust, joining the contaminants piled on the ground, still six feet high. They swirled around him, enveloping him, offering to become one with him.
Huxian walked up beside the man. They were now only six feet away from a cliff that finally gave way, revealing the full splendor of the sun. Nigh-invisible chains were wrapped around it, preventing it from moving an inch.
“So, was it worth it?” Huxian asked Scholar Yang, whose face was contorted in pain. His face was crumbling, just like his hair had been, and not a single inch of his skin was unmarred. His eyebrows were gone, as were the small hairs on his arms. Yet to Huxian’s surprise, he continued to stare straight ahead.
