Chapter 16 Proof

“Penglai Xiandao, early spring of a certain year.

Six-year-old Ji Lianzhou leaped onto the wall, holding a freshly picked stone still damp from the river in his palm, and gently tossed it into the window of a thatched cottage.

The stone hit its mark precisely, landing near a child’s head resting on a copy of ‘Juvenile Learning in the Qionglin.’

“Ah Xu, come out quickly,” Ji Lianzhou whispered, lowering his voice.

Chu Xuyun slowly raised his head from behind the book at the call of Ji Lianzhou, a glint of light suddenly appearing in his otherwise dull eyes.

“Here I am.”

The two children sat under the wall. Ji Lianzhou took out a white steamed bun stuffed with beef from his bosom and handed it to Chu Xuyun, whispering, “Your father still isn’t giving you food?”

Chu Xuyun took the bun and ate it quietly, saying softly between bites, “Father said if I couldn’t recite it, I wasn’t allowed to eat, and there’s no dinner either.”

Ji Lianzhou sighed and then noticed Chu Xuyun holding the bun with injured hands. “Your father hit you again?”

Chu Xuyun shook his head at the words. “No, I got hurt while practicing swordsmanship at the hour of the tiger.”

At that time, the day had barely dawned.

Chu Xuyun nodded, finishing the last bite of the bun, somewhat reluctant, and looked up. “Father won’t let me practice swordsmanship. He says I’m without talent and only allows me to practice early in the morning.”

He liked practicing swordsmanship, and he also liked cultivating.

Seeing spiritual energy emanate from his fingertips and revive withered flowers, Chu Xuyun felt truly happy only at such times. Once immersed in cultivation, all his worries and even his own name and surname were forgotten.

Ji Lianzhou fell silent briefly and whispered, “I really should have been born into our family. We could have just swapped places.”

The Ji Family is a prominent clan of sword cultivators, and Ji Lianzhou is their only son. Consequently, their expectations of him are exceedingly strict. Fortunately, Ji Lianzhou is quite outstanding, demonstrating exceptional talent from a young age.

Yet, compared to Chu Xuyun, his talent always seems to be overshadowed.

Just a few days ago, Ji Lianzhou brought Chu Xuyun home to play, and his father personally taught Chu Xuyun a set of sword techniques.

However, this was quickly discovered by Chu Xuyun’s father. Since that day, Chu Xuyun was punished to stay at home and study diligently, forbidding him from going out or even eating until he memorized twenty pages of texts daily.

Ji Lianzhou felt responsible for Chu Xuyun’s predicament and brought him meals for several days.

However, Chu Xuyun seemed unconcerned, lamenting only that he couldn’t study swordsmanship at Ji’s house anymore.

“Is cultivation all you think about?” Ji Lianzhou leaned on his chin, looking puzzled. “Cultivation is exhausting and arduous, don’t you think?”

Chu Xuyun smiled gently, “If you like it, it’s not tiring. Don’t you like it?”

Ji Lianzhou pursed his lips and looked away. “I wouldn’t say I like it, but… it would be better if it were a bit easier.”

His father was too strict, often making it hard for him to breathe.

“You know, if there were a path in this world where you could cultivate rapidly just by doing one thing, many people would surely enjoy it.” Ji Lianzhou chuckled softly, “Just like the Heartless Path, where one can ascend without emotions. I want to establish a Silent Path in the future—just refrain from speaking, and you can still ascend through cultivation. What do you think?”

As the words fell, Chu Xuyun paused for a moment, carefully pondering before slowly asking, “I think it’s good, but how would one cultivate in such a path, and what would they cultivate?”

“Well… I don’t know about that.” Ji Lianzhou was only joking, but unexpectedly, Chu Xuyun took it seriously, prompting Ji Lianzhou to laugh, “You better think about what you’ll do if you can’t finish your studies today.”

Chu Xuyun, however, seemed lost in thought, not even hearing Ji Lianzhou bid him farewell.

A few days later,

At the Ji family’s martial arts arena.

Ji Lianzhou faced his father with swords drawn, appearing like a six-year-old child but wielding a sword as big as his own, its blade sharp with a keen edge of sword intent.

However, halfway through, Ji Lianzhou fell to the ground, watching helplessly as his father’s sword edge approached his throat.

His father looked down at him with a furrowed brow, his eyes cold and indifferent. “What have you been practicing all these days?”

Ji Lianzhou quickly replied, “I’ve been diligently practicing the sword techniques you gave me, never slacking off.”

Upon hearing this, his father’s brow furrowed even deeper. “Then what have you been doing after every meal?”

Now Ji Lianzhou was speechless. Every day after meals, he had been secretly bringing food to Chu Xuyun.

“Idling away your time, indulging in food all day—that’s your swordsmanship.” His father’s eyes were cold, tinged with a frightening disappointment. “When will you learn from Xuyun? He’s naturally more talented than you and works harder.”

Ji Lianzhou’s face turned pale, his hand gripping the sword trembling slightly, as if trying to prove something. He murmured, “I’m not lazy.”

He had always known that Chu Xuyun was stronger than him. Before meeting Chu Xuyun, Ji Lianzhou had no rivals among children of his age, even adults couldn’t defeat him.

“Not lazy?” His father’s next words struck Ji Lianzhou like lightning. “That set of sword techniques—Xuyun learned it after watching it just once, and he’s already mastered it effortlessly.”

Ji Lianzhou looked up at his father in disbelief, but his father said nothing more, turning away as if he no longer deemed him worth his words.

A bitter taste surged in Ji Lianzhou’s throat. He was only six years old and couldn’t understand why he felt so bitter.

—That set of sword techniques, Ji Lianzhou had practiced it for an entire year.

On the same day, at night.

At the Chu family’s wall.

Ji Lianzhou stood alone, holding a roasted duck leg wrapped in oil paper in his hand.

He thought, when Xuyun came, he would first discuss with him that he couldn’t bring food anymore these days. He needed to focus on cultivation, and he wanted Xuyun to study diligently every day too.

At the appointed time, Chu Xuyun effortlessly climbed over the wall and landed steadily in front of him.

Ji Lianzhou was about to speak when Chu Xuyun spoke first, looking joyful and slightly excited, “Lianzhou, I’ve figured it out.”

He didn’t know what Chu Xuyun had figured out, but seeing him so happy, Ji Lianzhou temporarily swallowed his words.

Chu Xuyun couldn’t contain himself and, without waiting for Ji Lianzhou’s response, immediately opened up, “Do you remember that day when you said it would be great if there were a Silent Path? I’ve been carefully thinking about it these days, and I think it’s feasible…”

Ji Lianzhou stared at him in astonishment, intending to interrupt Chu Xuyun and tell him it was just a joke.

But Chu Xuyun was immersed in his own thoughts, unaware of Ji Lianzhou’s increasingly stiff expression. “If one could cultivate without speaking, it would open up another path for ordinary people in the future. You would be the founder of this method. Lianzhou, you’re truly amazing, a cultivation genius. I wish I had half your talent…”

“Enough.”

Ji Lianzhou finally couldn’t hold back, his expression darkening.

“Why didn’t you let me speak first? Do you know how annoying you can be with all your talk? If such a Silent Path truly existed, you would be the one most suited to cultivate it.”

The words slipped out, and Ji Lianzhou looked at Chu Xuyun’s stunned expression, his eyes clear and penetrating, as if they could reflect Ji Lianzhou’s own ugly jealousy and inferiority. He instantly realized he had said the wrong thing, wanting to apologize, but the words of apology and his fragile pride got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t say anything and just walked away, leaving hurriedly as if feeling guilty.

Chu Xuyun didn’t say a word from start to finish, seeming almost mute.

Later on, Ji Lianzhou doubled his kindness towards Chu Xuyun, hoping to make amends for something.

But from that day on, Chu Xuyun suddenly changed. He spoke less and less, almost never talking in daily life, as if he had never let go of what happened before.

Eventually, they went their separate ways—one to San Sheng Mountain to study swordsmanship, the other to Taiqing Sect to cultivate immortality. The memories of their childhood gradually lost their vivid colors, never to be brought up again. Ji Lianzhou no longer felt frustrated for not being able to surpass Chu Xuyun, nor did he blame himself for his past mistakes.

In his eyes, Chu Xuyun grew more mature and reliable, yet increasingly aloof and proud, unlike before.

But it was a good thing.

The Taiqing Immortal Lord should be like this. With Chu Xuyun’s exceptional talent, what harm was there in being a bit aloof and proud?

He thought he had long forgotten, but everything in his memory was still vivid, even Chu Xuyun’s expression at that time.

It seemed… the way Chu Xuyun looked at him now was just like back then.

Ji Lianzhou put away his memories and stared blankly at Chu Xuyun. He knew Chu Xuyun wouldn’t be foolish enough to take those jokes seriously.

He never spoke again after that, perhaps because he wanted to prove to himself—

To prove that silence in the world truly exists, to prove that Ji Lianzhou was indeed formidable, not inferior to anyone.

Suddenly, his eyes welled up with tears. Ji Lianzhou looked up and murmured softly, “Ah Xu, you’re really foolish. Because of a childhood joke from me, you’ve been so persistent in trying to comfort me, willing to stay silent for over a decade. Back then, I was jealous and angry at you, so I intentionally complained about your talkativeness and pushed you into practicing the path of silence. I didn’t really want you to stop talking… I’m sorry.”

As the words fell, Yu Xiao’s face suddenly changed, his hand holding the knife handle as if it might break.

So that’s how it was.

He was the foolish one, thinking that Chu Xuyun was the kind of fool who would take jokes seriously.

It turned out that Chu Xuyun had stayed silent for over a decade simply because Ji Lianzhou had said he didn’t want to hear him talk.

Yu Xiao’s vision darkened, a splitting headache making him almost unable to stand.

A gentle hand lightly held his.

Chu Xuyun looked up at Ji Lianzhou, shaking his head seriously and earnestly.

No, really, the path of silence truly exists in the world, and it has nothing to do with you, Lianzhou.

He had truly mastered it—the path of silence was as precious as real gold. Similar to the Zen silence of Buddhist teachings, it could lead to rapid spiritual advancement. Those who achieved it could build a foundation in a day, form a pill in half a year, and reach the Nascent Soul stage in two years.

It’s strange… why hasn’t such a great cultivation method been believed by anyone?