ATPnovel Chapter 684 Farewell!
Chapter 684 Farewell!
On the third day at dusk, Chen Fan went to Morigen's tent to say goodbye.
The old man was sitting on a stone stool at the entrance of the tent, chiseling at a piece of bluestone. When he saw Chen Fan arrive, he didn't get up, but simply placed the chisel next to the stone and dusted off his hands.
"Are you leaving?" Morigen's voice was hoarse but calm.
Chen Fan nodded and placed the statue in front of the old man.
Morigen took the stone statue and examined it in his hands for a long time.
He examined it over and over, scrutinizing every detail, from the fingers gripping the hammer to the angle of his bow, from the curve of his shoulders and back to the old scar behind his ear.
After staring for a very long time, a faint glimmer of water suddenly appeared in those cloudy old eyes.
"I've taught dozens of apprentices in my life, but none of them could carve stone to this extent." Morigen gently placed the stone statue on his lap, looked up at Chen Fan, and said, "Chen Fan, you are not a stonemason, and you will never be. But the stone you carve has a soul. Wherever you go, the soul in this stone will follow you."
Chen Fan bowed solemnly to the old man.
He didn't say much, but simply took a small cloth bag from his sleeve and placed it on the stone stool. Inside the bag were several medicinal herbs that he had nurtured with his spiritual power. Ordinary people could extend their lifespan by several decades after consuming them. Although they couldn't grant immortality, they could at least allow Morigen's hands, which had spent their entire lives chiseling stones, to chisel for a few more years.
Morigen did not refuse, but simply placed the stone statue and the cloth bag on his lap and waved to Chen Fan: "Go. The road on the grassland is long, set off soon."
Chen Fan turned and took a few steps, when Morigen's hoarse voice came from behind him again: "If you ever pass by the grasslands, remember to come back and visit this old man. If I'm already dead, put a stone you carved on my grave."
Chen Fan paused for a moment, but did not turn around; he simply nodded slightly.
The next morning, before dawn, Chen Fan got up. He didn't wake anyone, folded his sheepskin robe and placed it on the low table, changed back into his gray-blue cloth robe, tucked the Black Soul Banner into his waistband, and summoned the Golden Cicada from his sleeve and placed it on his shoulder.
Jin Chan absorbed enough insect spirit energy on the grassland during the year and has now steadily reached the threshold of the Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul stage.
Once we reach the imperial city, we can find a quiet room with abundant spiritual energy and then begin to help it break through to the Nascent Soul stage.
When he lifted the tent flap, Batu's family was already waiting outside.
Batu stood at the front, clutching a wine jug, his eyes dark with the bruises of a sleepless night. Batel stood behind his father, holding Qiqige in his arms, with Surina leaning against Batel. Batu's wife stood at the very back, wiping the corner of her eye with her sleeve.
Chen Fan looked at the family and remained silent for a while before speaking: "We are just outsiders. You don't need to be like this."
"You're not." Batu strode forward and shoved the wine jug into Chen Fan's hand. "This is the best goat milk wine. I've been saving it for years, not wanting to drink it. Have a sip when it's cold on the road."
His throat felt constricted, and he swallowed several times before finally managing to say, "Chen Fan, now that you're gone, how are we going to tell Qiqige who named her when she grows up?"
Chen Fan looked down at the wine jug in his hand, then looked up at Batu. His tone remained calm, but it was warmer than usual: "When she grows up, let her learn to ride a horse. Girls on the grasslands who can ride horses can go anywhere."
Batu nodded vigorously, then turned his back and wiped his face hard with his sleeve.
Chen Fan walked up to Batel and looked down at Qiqige. The little girl was awake, staring at him with her bright black eyes. She seemed to know the old man was leaving, pouted, and then burst into tears.
Chen Fan extended a finger and gently tapped Qiqige's forehead. A very subtle stream of spiritual energy flowed into her body through his fingertip, forming an invisible barrier that protected her meridians and dantian.
This spiritual energy wouldn't affect her mortal body, but it could help her avoid many detours if she had the opportunity to cultivate in the future. He withdrew his finger, nodded slightly to Batel, and then turned and walked towards the grassland.
Behind them came the sound of Qiqige crying, Batu's wife sobbing, and Batel's suppressed sobs.
Chen Fan did not turn around.
He walked step by step, his pace steady and as usual. The morning breeze on the grassland made his robes flutter, and the grass under his feet was still covered with morning dew, making a rustling sound when he stepped on it.
The cicada flew up from his shoulder, circled him once, emitting a long buzzing sound, and then disappeared back into his sleeve.
Greymane let out a long neigh in the stable, which was particularly loud in the quiet morning.
Chen Fan's figure gradually shrank until it disappeared into the path leading south deep in the grassland.
The herders in the tribe got up one after another, stood in front of their tents and watched the departing figure, no one spoke.
The old woman sat at the entrance of the tent and began to play the morin khuur (horsehead fiddle). The long, desolate sound of the instrument drifted far away in the morning breeze of the grassland.
Batu stood there, staring blankly in the direction where Chen Fan had disappeared, his hand gripping the stone horse tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
Batel walked to his father's side and put his hand on Batu's shoulder. The father and son stood side by side, looking in the same direction, without moving for a long, long time.
Chen Fan traveled south along the grassland.
He did not fly away on a sword, but instead used the technique of shrinking the distance to move quickly close to the ground.
After breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage, his escape speed was several times faster than before; with a light tap of his foot, he could travel dozens of feet.
The scenery on the grassland rushed past on both sides, the emerald green sea of grass surging like waves in the wind, and occasionally a few herds of wild horses could be seen galloping past in the distance, their hooves thundering.
But the grasslands were no longer just home to cattle, sheep, and herdsmen; the atmosphere of war hung over the entire land like a dark cloud.
After traveling for about half an hour, several dark plumes of smoke rose on the horizon ahead.
Chen Fan spread out his divine sense and saw dozens of corpses scattered haphazardly on a grassland dozens of miles away. Some of them were wearing the black armor of the Zhao Kingdom's border army, but most of them were wearing the leather robes of grassland Gu cultivators.
The remains of Gu worms were everywhere. Some were cut into several pieces by sword energy, some were burned to charcoal by flames, and a few Gu worms that were not quite dead were slowly wriggling among the corpses, emitting faint hissing sounds.
Several tattered flags were stuck diagonally in the scorched earth, one embroidered with the black military emblem of the Zhao Kingdom, and the other with the blood-red insect patterns of the Blood Gu Tribe.
The two groups had clearly fought fiercely here, suffering heavy casualties on both sides; the survivors had fled to an unknown location. Several vultures on the grassland had begun circling in the sky, waiting to feast on the spoils of this war.
Chen Fan glanced at it once before withdrawing his divine sense, slightly turning his feet to avoid the battlefield.
Continuing south, they encountered several more battlegrounds. Some were skirmishes between small groups of Zhao scouts and nomadic witchcraft practitioners from the grasslands, with only a dozen or so people on each side chasing and fighting each other across the grasslands.
Some battles were large-scale clashes, with hundreds of cultivators fighting in the sky, their spiritual light and Gu energy intertwined, the roaring sounds causing the grassland to tremble slightly.