Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 125: Show Some Respect

Qi adepts and masters stood outside the main area of the hall where ceremony was about to take place, visibly uncomfortable as if confronting an unforeseen adversary. Unarmed and unarmored, some were poorly clothed; a few even wore their battle tunics, having no other attire. Wuyi himself was modestly dressed in black trousers and a snug black tunic—his last respectable outfit from his travels.

His only sign of rank was a standout black treasure cloak.

The modest appearance of his men sharply contrasted with the grandeur of the spiritual hall where last rites were going to be done for warriors that had died. Even with sacred symbols and talismans covered in rich purple cloth for spiritual reflection, the hall exuded opulence.

However, Wuyi noticed the worn gilt on a hidden relic and the use of tallow instead of wax in the sconces, its acrid scent clashing with the other aromas.

He observed that Meiying wore a traditional dress, a sight unseen since she first joined the company. The fabric was fine but faded, with a distinct patch on her right breast.

His gaze shifted to the symbols above the altar and to the general public who had come from the town to visit the temple today. This reminded him of how the general public suffered most in this world. He remembered the quote from a demonic manual, "If the heavens of this world are just, how can they permit such boundless suffering?".

Sounded about right he mused cynically.

Monk Zhen, lifting the sanctified offering, led the group to kneel in reverence. He began chanting scriptures. Wuyi, however, kept his eyes on Monk Zhen, skeptical of the ritual that promised to guide the souls of warriors to the afterlife.

He wondered if this emaciated spiritual guide truly believed in his own words or if he was driven mad by the isolation of living in a predominantly female community. Perhaps he was consumed by desire; after all, many of the female disciples were quite attractive.

Just then, his eyes met Liwei's. He hadn't intended to look at her; in fact, he was consciously avoiding her gaze, not wanting to appear interested. He wanted to recruit her but had to make sure he didn't come across as desperate. Whether it's courting a lady or recruiting her, appearing needy was not the strategy he wanted to employ.

Yet, their eyes met, and for a moment, he felt enchanted—she was his first kiss in this world, after all.

Wuyi was still considering how to recruit Liwei. His statue of knowledge was a great cheat which could help him develop cultivation methods that would transform his subordinates into powerful allies. But to have powerful subordinates, the important requirement was that they should have bloodline powers; general warriors would never be able to reach the level of bloodline power.

Liwei was special; she had a unique bloodline. The descent of a new statue was proof of that.

While Wuyi was pondering, Liwei shot him a look that seemed to say, "Show some respect to the heavens—kneel," so clearly that he almost thought he heard her voice. He knelt. She had a point; decorum often held more weight than empty spiritual platitudes. At least, he assumed that was her point.

Jia shifted beside him and risked a quick glance in his direction. Wuyi noticed his attendant was smiling. Further away, Yun Ming was also suppressing a grin.

"They want me to share their belief in the heavens and the path of righteousness. My skepticism unsettles their faith, and they seek comfort," he thought.

Soon the ceremony began.

When the monk started chanting, everyone had knelt, even the young master Black. Wuyi did not support this process of last rites as these rites were for helping souls pass through - Wuyi, who had swallowed many souls, was the direct competition to wherever the souls went. He was still interested in the process, though.

As the sun cast its final, almost horizontal rays, the spiritual hall was filled with a radiant light that danced across the white shrouds covering the fallen warriors.

The light intensified, and every warrior gasped as a blaze of ethereal brilliance swept over the lifeless bodies. "It's merely an optical illusion, you superstitious lot!" he wanted to shout. Yet, he too felt the awe. "They conduct the ceremony at this time to make use of the sunlight and the glass," he reasoned, although he admitted that timing it so perfectly would be a challenging feat.

Wuyi also realized something - the monk was blessed with some kind of power; it was not his power, but he was powerful.

Monk Zhen seemed to falter in his recitation.

Wuyi turned and looked at his attendant because the statue of harmony was receiving a lot of emotional feedback. Tears were streaming down Jia's face, and he was not alone. Others were not crying, but you could feel that they were deeply affected by the deaths of the members. Meiying and Baijian were also sad, their voices mingling in a chorus of sorrow and gratitude. They were all mourning.

Wuyi could understand the source of their pain. They were warriors at heart more than they were cultivators. Unlike real cultivators of big sects who lived for thousands of years, they were just rogues at the Qi stage. They considered themselves cultivators, but they were only slightly better than mortals.

And when they vowed loyalty to Wuyi and his faction, they considered each member their kin, and they truly meant it.

At the end of the day, this ragtag bunch was a sensitive bunch.

When the ceremony concluded, the Qi adepts of the company carried the deceased on makeshift litters fashioned from spears. They descended the hill to lay them to rest in the sacred grounds near the shrine at the bridge.

Baijian approached and placed his hand on Yun Ming's shoulder, a rare gesture of intimacy, and nodded. Then he turned to Wuyi. "I know that was difficult for you, as you do not believe in the heavens," he said. "Thank you."

Yun Ming, standing by the side, grunted and nodded as he agreed with what Baijian had said.

"Thanks," he finally said, meeting Wuyi's gaze. He still believed Wuyi to be truly evil but also believed deep in his heart that Wuyi cared for his subordinates; this gesture of participating in the ceremony to send off the dead meant a lot to them. Wuyi shook his head. "The last rites are done," he said. "They remain gone."