No one dared to come to the ruins of White Floating Mountain anymore.
Because everyone who had come before was killed, and their bloodstains still stained the rocks, unable to be washed away even by the rain.
Chen Xia was now left with only the lingering ghosts of the mountain as companions.
He didn't expect that a person could change so much, so quickly.
Perhaps from staying on the mountain for too long, his sense of time had become blurred, thinking change should take place over hundreds of years.
But for mortals, ten years was enough.
After all, a mortal's lifespan could be seen to the end with a glance.
Chen Xia sat in the little hut, still slowly waiting. He knew Xia Chan would come back, even if it took decades.
But Xia Chan would definitely come back. Fallen leaves return to the roots. This was Xia Chan's roots.
He silently observed the changes in Xia Chan's life, changes that also affected himself.
To comprehend, one must first empathize.
Counting by mortal years, Chen Xia was already over fifty, entering old age with white hair and a bent back.
Living alone in this little hut could be called lonely and desolate.
Luckily the mountain ghosts kept him company, though Chen Xia didn't recognize them.
Occasionally people would take refuge on the mountain, but most were not good people, and harbored evil intentions to kill Chen Xia.
Then the mountain would gain another ghost or two.
Time was relentless water, slowly flowing forward, then speeding up unnoticed.
The thirtieth year.
Xia Chan had taken over as the bandit boss. At thirty-five, she was ambitious, wanting to gain more power amidst the chaos.
The killing never ceased. Many times she narrowly escaped death by chance.
Perhaps fate had decided her time was not up yet. Xia Chan would often laugh self-deprecatingly at her luck.
A homeless person like her achieving this much was truly the whims of fate.
In the coming days she fought even more fiercely, as if unafraid of death, even directly battling the soldiers of nations.
But how could her ragtag bandits defeat the well-armed forces of great nations? Naturally they suffered great defeat, scattering and fleeing.
The homeless Xia Chan escaped into the depths of the mountains. Looking at the endless peaks, her eyes were filled with confusion. She didn't know where to go.
She was no longer the girl who had wanted to cultivate immortality.
Another twenty years passed.
Chen Xia's seventy-year-old body was frail. He made a rocking chair for himself, casually drinking tea when he had nothing to do.
The little hut was also nearing collapse. Chen Xia thought he should take some time to repair it.
He sipped his tea. Even the teacup was old and worn. Such was the power of time.
Footsteps sounded from below the mountain. An old woman slowly climbed up and looked at Chen Xia with complex emotions. After some time she softly called out:
"Senior martial brother."
Chen Xia nodded slightly, a smile emerging on his aged face. "I've waited for you many years."
Xia Chan pressed her lips together, wringing her hands. Her footsteps didn't move forward. She only looked at Chen Xia and asked like she had in the past:
"Can I really cultivate immortality, senior martial brother?"
"You always could," Chen Xia's aged voice slowly replied, tone very certain.
"Why is that?" Xia Chan was very confused. She had thought about this question for decades without understanding.
"What do you think cultivation is?" Chen Xia asked back.
Xia Chan was startled. Her clouded eyes looked at Chen Xia as she replied, "Abstaining from grains, ascension and immortality."
"That is not cultivation," Chen Xia shook his head in explanation. "That is transcendence."
"Heh, you're right," Xia Chan gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I've really lived a ridiculous life. I said I would never come back, yet here I am, shamelessly returning."
"It's nothing," Chen Xia's aged face smiled. "I was always waiting for you."
Xia Chan was startled again. Head lowered, not knowing what to say, she was silent for some time before softly asking Chen Xia:
"Can I come back again in the future?"
"This was your home to begin with. You came before me, why ask me?" Chen Xia replied.
"You're right," Xia Chan laughed and slowly walked down the steps, departing the mountain.
In the next ten years, she did not return again.
Chen Xia's little hut had completely fallen apart. He was too lazy to repair it, taking everything inside out and making a simple shelter to live exposed to the elements.
He was over ninety years old now. By mortal lifespans, he was nearing his end. He looked appropriately aged, all white-haired, back hunched.
Chen Xia waited to see the arrival of his final moments.
The thirtieth year again.
An extremely aged woman stumbled up the mountain, holding a cane. Her eyes were so clouded she could barely see. But she still made out Chen Xia and called:
"Senior martial brother."
"Mm," Chen Xia nodded.
"I still haven't figured out if I'm suited for cultivation or not," Xia Chan's trembling voice uttered this sentence. She was very old now, old enough for her hands to shake even when still.
"You are suited," Chen Xia nodded. Though just as aged, he was in much better condition than Xia Chan.
"Hehe, maybe so," Xia Chan gave a soft laugh. Her steps moved forward and she finally entered the sect grounds again.
She muttered under her breath:
"If I hadn't gone down the mountain then, would it have been different?"
"Or if I hadn't gone up the mountain back then, living a mundane life below, perhaps that would've been another scenario altogether."
These were things she had pondered for many years.
"When I was little, I always felt that with elder martial brother around, I had nothing to fear, even if martial aunt and the others didn't treat me well. Having elder martial brother was enough."
"But later even elder martial brother rejected me."
Xia Chan slowly turned her wrinkled face to look at Chen Xia, without any change in expression. She only curiously asked:
"Senior martial brother, did you really care about me?"
Chen Xia shook his head. "I don't know."
"Hehe," Xia Chan gave a soft laugh again. Her gaze was clouded as she nodded, "I don't know either."
Facing the rising sun, she climbed to the high ruins and slowly knelt down. Putting her hands together just like when she was small, she respectfully bowed:
"I bow to the Supreme Lord of Profound Yellow, the Great Dao of the Three Thousand, the Boundless Heaven and Earth, the Most High who grasps life and death and controls the five elements and divine powers. Great Heavenly Venerable."
Her aged voice was no longer as clear as in childhood.
Xia Chan's body did not move again.
She died.
Chen Xia stood stunned in place. This was the same as when he had watched the tree centuries ago, yet also vastly different.
A person's life was but an autumn of grass and trees.
Chen Xia made a coffin out of the broken hut's lumber and placed the clay effigy and Xia Chan inside to return to the earth.
After completing this, Chen Xia waited for a fine morning to arrive. Facing the gate, he slowly stepped out.
With one step his aged form turned youthful again, white hair becoming black, back straightening.
His figure that had stayed at White Floating Mountain for nearly a hundred years vanished without a trace.