“Ah, you’re the sentient rain that fell in the third month of the Yiding year of the ancient Gu calendar. You fell onto my back… and became a lake.”
The young girl smiled and nodded. Then she looked toward Meng Hao and winked.
Meng Hao took a deep breath. Now he finally understood the meaning of the girl’s strange name.
Patriarch Reliance let out a cold snort. He looked at the little girl and then stared off into the sky. Meng Hao followed his gaze and caught sight of what appeared to be an indistinct blood-colored figure.
The figure clasped hands and bowed in respect to Patriarch Reliance, then disappeared.
Patriarch Reliance lowered his head once more and looked at Meng Hao. “Very well, Meng Hao. In the future, keep your distance from me!” He blew a breath out of his mouth, causing Meng Hao to fly up into the air. Buffeted by a glowing black wind, Meng Hao was tossed out of the State of Zhao to land on the edge of the massive hole in the earth.
“Son of a bitch! I can’t even look at him. In my life, I’ll never recognize him as my master. I’m out of here. The further away the better. He’ll never find me. As for the treasures of mine that he took, fine, consider them payment. All of our debts are settled. In this way, my heart can rest at ease and I can continue to practice Cultivation.” His eyes flickered, and then his body turned. Meng Hao watched as the colossal turtle, carrying the State of Zhao on his back, transformed into a massive beam of prismatic light… and then disappeared over the horizon.
He appeared to be heading in the direction of the Milky Way Sea. Perhaps this was why legends arose of an island of Immortals. If one searched for it, it could never be found. But when it appeared, anyone who stepped foot on it would find that it was a nation inhabited by mortals.
It was, of course, the State of Zhao.
Some time passed, and eventually the skies grew calm once again. Meng Hao stood there looking down at the deep, gaping hole. Then he looked off silently in the direction in which Patriarch Reliance had disappeared.
Time passed, and rain began to fall. It fell with urgency, slowly flowing down into the massive pit left by the State of Zhao. Many years later, this area would turn into a sea.
Standing amidst the sheets of falling rain, Meng Hao let out a long sigh. Images from the past several days flashed through his mind. It all seemed virtually inconceivable. Thinking upon it all, it seemed a dream-like fantasy.
The State of Zhao was gone…. Meng Hao looked around at the rain, then up into the hazy sky. He contemplated his life during the past four years.
“I started out as a scholar…” he murmured. “My life is like snow. I can only exist in winter. I can yearn for the summer of the mortal world, but that is not my life anymore….” After a long time passed, he turned. Surrounded by the falling rain, he once again began to trod a road which led away from his roots.
He struck a lonely figure amidst the rain. Eventually, he seemed to merge into it. Even if a hot wind blew over him, it would do nothing to disperse him. Because this was his life.
Life is comprised of one experience after another. Or, you could say that life is comprised of many experiences. Different experiences lead to different lives; if you experience a cold bitter wind, you will become snow. If you experience scorching heat, you will become rain….