Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 128: Sign from the Heavens

Wuyi gave a subtle disapproving look but chose not to engage in a debate about the heavens.

He avoided imposing his beliefs on his followers; however, he did not shy away from expressing his disappointment when the moment presented itself. Wuyi considered the heavens a rival for the allegiance of certain followers like Jin and Yun Ming. The Statue of Harmony had deeply sown loyalty towards Wuyi in them, yet their belief in the heavens had fostered an equally strong loyalty.

Trying to change the topic, Wuyi inquired, 'Do you perceive their energy directly, or are you tracing the same trail as a hunting hound would?'

Jin, the Beastmaster, glanced at Wuyi.

"I'd like your approval to acquire some hunting hounds or wolves," he said softly, ignoring Wuyi's question, his eyes scanning the untamed wilderness around them.

"Quality breeds. After all, I am your Master of Beasts. I'd like to have the resources—hounds and a few attendants who specialize in this field, rather than being warriors or scouts."

Wuyi pondered for a moment. "How much are we discussing? I have a fondness for hounds and wolves. Let's get some. And perhaps a few falcons too." Wuyi whistled—a massive fledgling flew in and circled them.

Jin's head swiveled sharply, startling his horse. "Yours? How did you tame such a pure-blooded fledgling? Only the righteous can do such a thing."

A genuine laugh erupted from Wuyi, echoing through the woods like a melodious chime. "You believe I am demonic, don't you? Why shouldn't I have my own pure beasts?" He shook his head.

Just then, Jin dismounted and pointed into the dense woods. "By the Sacred Heavens, a sign from above!" he exclaimed.

Wuyi squinted through the barren branches and caught a glimpse of a white figure. He maneuvered his horse for a better view and was left in awe.

Before them stood a stag, not as white as snow but a warm, woolen white, with a majestic rack of antlers that declared him a hart of noble lineage. The creature, almost as tall as a horse at the shoulder, radiated an aura of untamed majesty. To Jin, the stag was a divine sign, a message from the heavens. To Wuyi, however, the stag was just a spirit beast.

But he had to agree the beast was aesthetically very pleasing. Its grandeur seemed to be woven into the very fabric of the world, bound by invisible threads of power that connected it to the earth, the trees, and this world itself.

Wuyi blinked as the majestic stag turned and sauntered away, its hooves echoing on the frosty earth. The creature paused, glanced back, and then leapt over a fallen pine tree, vanishing into the wilderness. Jin had already dismounted and was kneeling on the ground, thanking the heavens.

Navigating cautiously through the forest, Wuyi observed the overhead branches and the terrain beneath him. He tried to reach out to the stag through the statute of harmony. But the stag was very quick to disappear.

Wuyi located the spot where the creature had stood and traced its steps to where it had pawed at the old snow.

His horse became uneasy, and Wuyi gently patted the horse's neck, whispering soothing words. "You're not fond of that creature, are you, my dear?"

Jin approached, leading his own horse. "What did you see?" His tone was tinged with irritation.

"A white beast, adorned with a unique mark on its forehead. I saw what you saw," Wuyi responded nonchalantly.

Jin shook his head. "But why were you able to see it? It's supposed to be sign from the heavens"

Wuyi chuckled. "Ah, Jin, do you consider yourself that virtuous? Should I inform the maidens of Leony Village about your supposed purity? I recall a young woman with raven hair—"

"Why do you belittle sacred matters of the heavens?" Jin interjected.

"I'm teasing you, not the heavens," Wuyi clarified, pointing his hand at the spot where the stag had disturbed the snow. "Wave your beastmaster stick over that."

Jin looked up, his expression softening. "I apologize. I'm a flawed man and shouldn't act so self-righteous. Maybe my transgressions are so grave that there's little difference between us. But I believe in the heavens, the power of nature, and everything our world stands for."

Wuyi's laughter echoed once more through the forest. "Perhaps I'm not as wicked as you assume, Jin. Personally, I don't think the heavens care one way or the other. But sometimes, I wonder if the heavens have a twisted sense of humor, and maybe I should lighten up."

Jin squirmed uncomfortably.

Wuyi shook his head. "Jin, my jokes were misplaced. I have my own qualms with the heavens, but you are a righteous man doing his utmost. I apologize for my taunts. Now, would you kindly wave your stick over the snow?"

Jin nodded and went to the location where the stag had left the mark, kneeling on the frosty ground.

Jin chanted four mantras, invoking the energies of the heavens. Afterward, he tucked his prayer beads back into his belt. "Your apology is accepted," he said, drawing his stick from his belt.

The moment he raised it towards ground, the stick snapped upright as if magnetized. Jin began to dig and didn't have to go far.

Beneath the snow lay a man's lifeless body. He had met a slow end, an arrow lodged in his thigh that had severed a major artery. This much was evident from the blood that had frozen around his lower garments, turning them a dark crimson.

The man's attire was of undyed cotton and linen, well-crafted. A quiver full of high-quality arrows with reinforced tips hung by his side. Wuyi pulled them out one by one, testing their sharpness against his skin.

Jin shook his head; the arrows alone were a small treasure. They could be reinforced with Qi.

The deceased man's belt pouch contained a significant amount of gold and silver coins, even a few spirit stones, a finely crafted dagger with a hilt of bronze and bone, and a set of eating utensils integrated into the scabbard. His hood and cloak were of matching undyed linen.