Year after year passed, and eventually, Meng Hao was sixty years old. Once again fed up with everything, he left the army and returned to the areas that had been scorched by the flames of war. Pestilence raged there. He was able to save the lives of a few people, after which, he was the Royal Adviser no longer, but a doctor, the Alchemy Doctor.
He continued to travel, pursuing the dream he’d had when he was young, climbing mountains and traveling to distant lands.
However many people he had killed in the past, that was how many he would save.
His travels lasted for twenty years.
Throughout those twenty years, Meng Hao traveled through countless nations and climbed to the top of who knew how many mountain peaks. He saved many people, and soon, word of “the miraculous hands of the Alchemy Doctor” spread throughout the land.
The year Meng Hao turned eighty, he looked thoughtfully up into the sky. His weathered face was covered with the evidence of a life full of memories.
“I’ve traveled many paths in life,” he thought to himself, “but as for my choice… just what is it…? I did not choose to be the reflection in the water of the river. Nor did I choose to live the peaceful life of a hermit in the forest. I absolutely did not want to live the romantic life of a bandit couple, nor did I choose to become a Daoist priest…. I’ve long since given up on being a Poison Specialist or a Royal Advisor, on waging war…. I thought that my final decision would be to become an Alchemy Doctor. But now that I look back… that’s not my path either. Just what am I pursuing in this life?” He looked up into the sky, but could not think of any answer to the question. The only thing he found was more frustration, and deep exhaustion.
He missed home. That autumn night, he sat beneath the stars looking up at the sky. Next to his foot was a fallen leaf. He didn’t notice as the wind whispered through the forest, picked it up, and returned it back to the tree it had fallen from. At the moment, he was somewhat like that leaf. He had been way from home for almost a full sixty year cycle. Now, he needed to return.
Meng Hao began to walk. After he had left home, it had taken him fifty four years to reach this point. The return trip only took six.
Eastern Emergence County was still there, flourishing more than ever. Meng Hao’s hair was white when he entered the city. He was just barely able to make out some of the traces of the past.
The bordello was gone. The wall had long since been knocked down, and the location was now home to a large mansion.
The house where he grew up had vanished with the passing of time. In its place was an inn. Meng Hao stood across from it for a very long time, staring at it. His face was covered not just with the ravages of time, but with a complex expression. Finally, he turned and left.
When he returned to Master’s house, the person who opened the door was a stranger. After making some enquiries, Meng Hao turned his head to look at East Mountain off in the distance.
His father had been buried there more than fifty years ago. Master had been buried there more than twenty years ago.
Meng Hao sighed. Silently holding a pot of alcohol under his arm, he climbed the mountain. First, he visited his father’s grave, which was covered in weeds. “I know this is all an illusion,” he said softly, “and that you aren’t my real father. However… you let me feel the fatherly love that I’ve been missing. It was only a simple embrace so that I could sleep….” About thirty years ago, in the Daoist temple, he had come to understand everything. This world was nothing but an illusion, a test to become an apprentice.
The real Meng Hao was still in the world of the Celestial Land in the Violet Fate Sect, atop Violet East Mountain.
He closed his eyes. A long time passed before he left his father’s grave. Finally, he arrived at Master’s grave. He looked at it for a while before speaking.
“Becoming an apprentice involves three kowtows,” he murmured. “The first is during the time of innocence. The second is in the time of roaming. The third is when gazing at the sunset…. You gave me an entire life to decide whether or not to become your apprentice. Everything in this realm of illusions was created, not by you, but me. You only provided the starting point. Every person in the trial by fire will create their own world.
“In this world, I liberated my heart. I… I experienced everything. In the end, I’ve come back here. But I still haven’t found what it is that I wish to pursue….
“The Dao of alchemy? Obviously not.” He lifted the jug of alcohol and took a long drink.
“Eternal life?” he said quietly. “I’m not qualified.” Soon, the sun began to sink in the west, and the jug of alcohol was empty. He did not begin the third kowtow. Instead, he turned and headed back toward Eastern Emergence County.
He knew that once he performed the third kowtow, he would leave this world of illusions. But he still had not found his answer. Therefore,